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We All Shine On – Helena Hann-Basquiat
Sometimes people write so vividly their character detaches itself from the page and begins to live in your mind, giving you clues to the writer’s spirit. Even when the writer is a self-confessedly covert operator, such as our guest today, it can be possible to build a genuine relationship with the person at the other end of the screen. This submission comes from the incredibly elegant, ineffably chic and indubitably compassionate mind of Helena Hann-Basquiat, Dilettante (and, if you’re fortunate, damn good friend).
Some time ago, I stumbled across some poetry, and the poems were accompanied by some really stunning visuals – nothing fancy, just simple Photoshopped pictures using stark colours, often incorporating the poet’s face in the images. I thought they were fantastic – they had a very poster-like quality, and the Warhol freak in me did a very minimalist dance of joy. (Probably something slow and lingering — you can’t really get your freaky boogie on to something like Venus in Furs.)
I left a couple of comments in response to the poems, expressing my appreciation, and encouraging her to explore the idea of turning some of the art into posters or prints or T-shirts.
I think my enthusiasm was at once both appreciated and unexpected – that it overwhelmed this person, who has a very difficult time accepting praise.
That was my first encounter with Hasty, and I don’t even know if she remembers that.
Since then, we’ve written to each other via email, we’ve read each others’ stuff, gotten to know a little about each other, and as much as I believe people can become friends over the Internet, I think we’ve become friends. We’ve talked about our good sides and shown each other a bit of our ugly sides, and there’s a mutual acceptance there.
I’ve come to realize, as she’s very open about it, that she has real issues with her appearance. The other day, she wrote about being able to find evidence for whatever you believe you want to find. She was talking about being critical of our appearances, rather than looking for the good things.
As someone who suffers from depression, I know full well the cycle of shame and loathing and embarrassment. Hasty posted that, and received all kinds of really well-meaning support. Yet she still felt guilty for complaining about herself, because that’s what depression does – it’s a spiral that you can’t escape from – you feel guilty pretty much all the time.
A lot of people told her how beautiful she was, etc.. etc… and I’m sure they all meant well. But it really isn’t about whether Hasty is beautiful or not, and telling her that she’s beautiful invalidates the way she’s feeling. If someone says they feel ugly, the solution is not to tell them that they’re not ugly. That’s like telling a depressed person to cheer up, or to not be depressed, because life’s wonderful. Because that’s not their perception. That’s not how they’re feeling. I say this not to berate anyone who tried or tries to encourage someone who reaches out and tells you they’re depressed, or that they feel ugly, or that they hate themselves. It’s a hard thing to deal with, or to know how to respond to, and I’m just trying to shed some light on that. When someone says they hate themselves in some way, they’re not looking for you to contradict them, and they’re certainly not looking for flattery — they’re looking for some understanding.
Hasty and I got talking and she mentioned how she had been called narcissistic because she frequently posts pictures of herself. People questioned the seeming contradiction of someone saying that they don’t like the way they look and yet posting pictures of themselves all the time.
And yet, what I notice is that all those pictures have been run through filters and painted on, and tweaked – and not in a fashion-magazine airbrushed to remove all pores and blemishes way. In a bold, dynamic, colourful way.
It got me thinking about John Lennon. (That’s how my mind works, darlings, I can’t help it.)
I read an interview, or an article or something once that said that John Lennon hated his voice. He was also terribly sensitive about his weight, after some asshat journalist referred to him as “The Chubby Beatle” but that’s another matter. He hated his voice, and often insisted that it be masked, filtered, layered in reverb. This is especially apparent in his solo years, once he had more control over his sound.
Filters, layers, masks…
He hated the sound of his voice, but that didn’t stop him from singing. So, there must have been something there that he found worthwhile – he just needed dress it up a bit in order to be happy with it.
If someone like Hasty looks at her face and wants to photograph it, and then filter it, layer it, and mask it, and turn it into something she can look on with pride and declare beautiful, why, that’s not narcissism; it’s art.
If it was good enough for John Lennon, it’s good enough for Hasty. After all, John Lennon was a genius.
What is your insecurity? What can’t you stand about yourself? And I’m not just talking physical attributes. How could you filter, layer, and mask that thing to make it something you could be proud of, or at least tolerate? I’m not talking about hiding it; I’m talking about making it shine.
The enigmatic Helena Hann-Basquiat dabbles in whatever she can get her hands into just to say that she has.
She’s written cookbooks, ten volumes of horrible poetry that she then bound herself in leather she tanned poorly from cows she raised herself and then slaughtered because she was bored with farming.
She has an entire portfolio of macaroni art that she’s never shown anyone, because she doesn’t think that the general populous or, “the great unwashed masses” as she calls them, would understand the statement she was trying to make with them.
Some people attribute her with inventing the Ampersand, but she has never made that claim herself.
Earlier this year, she published Memoirs of a Dilettante Volume One, and has finished Volume Two and is in the editing process.
Volume One is available HERE in e-book for Kindle or HERE in paperback.
Helena writes strange, dark fiction under the name Jessica B. Bell Find more of her writing at http://www.helenahb.com or connect with her via Twitter @HHBasquiat
The SisterWives 
Lovely post, Helena! I love how you see (what some people would perceive as) narcissism as art (in her case). I completely understand what you’re saying, and your comparison to Lennon was spot-on. You’ve actually got me thinking about my own (perceived and/or real) flaws! Your compassion and understanding for Hasty is admirable and sweet. I can see how this blossomed into a *real* friendship. Gorgeous. (I used a shit-ton of parenthesis in this reply. I blame Lizzi and Scott)
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All artists are narcissists — why would anyone question that? But it’s artists that make the world more interesting — seriously, think about the greatest writers, musicians, artists of history, and which one of them is not completely fucked up in some way. The best ones find a way to embrace their insecurities, problems, and neurosis and turn it into something beautiful. (Parenthetically speaking, that is.)
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I love parenthesis. They are beautiful. ))(())(())((
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Hasty IS a beautiful person, and by that I mean all of her. I’ve known her for a long time now and having talked to her, seen her art, written with her, and just gotten to know her, I feel confident in saying that.
Anyone who thinks she’s a narcissist just because she posts pictures of herself is judging her without even knowing her, which is a trait all too common these days. People, frankly, need to mind their own damned business. If photoshopped pictures bother them, that’s their issue and they can simply NOT look at them. If people fail to understand depression or depressed people, that’s not our problem. And people who hate so much and so openly really need to open their hearts. There is too much hate in this world already.
Well said, as always, dearest dilettante. Your eloquence always amazes me.
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Not knowing Hasty that long yet, I did not feel qualified to say anything. I agree with Twindaddy here.
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Much anger with this one… anger leads to hate, hate leads to the dark side… (Sigh.. kidding, but I know what you’re saying.) People are full of envy and misunderstanding. To presume you know someone by their online presence — is to me, the greatest insult.
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Well, I’m a bit jaded by people who hate for no reason. Or, at least, some nonsensical reason. I mean, I hate someone who abused me, but I couldn’t imagine hating someone because they post pictures of him or herself online. That’s just stupid.
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Did someone say jaded?…sorry, I had to. I responded to Hasty’s beautiful post with an I understand. I admit I’m intimidated.by her poetry. It makes me sound like a kid learning rhymes. I try to accept a compliment but it is difficult when my mind tells me that the compliment is Bullshit.
Hasty is beautiful, in my eyes. I hope her eyes will see it too.
As for guilt, it wakes me up and puts me to sleep.
Thank you for this, Helena.
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Pingback: Filters, Layers, Masks — Your Favourite Dilettante Visits the Sisterwives | Being the Memoirs of H̶e̶l̶e̶n̶a̶ ̶H̶a̶n̶n̶-̶B̶a̶s̶q̶u̶i̶a̶t̶,̶ ̶D̶i̶l̶e̶t̶t̶a̶n̶t̶e̶ Jessica B. Bell, Creepy Fucker
Firstly Helna’s writing is really good.
What is not my insecurity? Making it shine? I’m trying my utmost best with that.
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Oh Helena! It’s LOVELY to see you here!!! You are such a fantastic writer.
I get what you are saying. I’m very self conscious about my skills as a writer. I read what other people write and am in awe by how insightful and touching and funny and amazing they are..and then i compare.
But it doesn’t stop me, I just keep going.
Not to be creepy…but I must say again…so glad to see you here!
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Not creepy at all! I was actually just reading your post about things you’ve cried about… damn, girl!
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Helena, thank you so much for writing for us, and what a brilliant post. I, too, love our Hasty, and I find her to be beautiful in all ways because she shows her soul to me…in her writing, our conversations, and her overall presence. How fortunate are you and I that she’s in our corner?
I love the comparison to John Lennon. As an avid music lover, I appreciate any time someone can weave a historical music reference into her prose.Well done.
As for flaws…where do I begin? I could talk about my wrinkles, but then someone might say they are a result of laughing and smiling. I could talk about the soft skin on my belly, but then I might have to point out that it’s soft because it stretched in order to hold my two children. I have all kinds of flaws, but as difficult as it is to admit (especially here) my biggest insecurity is my writing. When I read posts like this, or posts from my fellow SisterWives, or really from any other incredible writer, I want to hide under the covers and delete my blog all together, scratch my manuscript and go on drifting just below the radar. How can I make that shine? Good question. I will have to think on that one.
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I relate everything to music, darling. Thank you for having me here. Make your writing shine by ignoring the doubts in your head. Write what you want to write. Break rules. Speak your mind. Learn to know yourself, your own opinions, feelings, and thoughts, and own them. If you want to try something new and experimental, I’ve heard — I mean, I have no personal experience, darling, but I’ve heard — that one way to try something new is to write under a pseudonym. Of course, if it takes off, you might find yourself stuck in it…. just a thought.
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If you relate everything to music, then we will get along quite well. Thank you so much for the advice. I have considered the nom de plume route, and it’s still not completely off the table, but sometimes I just wonder if I’m doing all of the work, then shouldn’t I get the credit? I guess that’s the narcissism in me.
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Yes, but you get to feel good about being a narcissist, because it’s not really “you”.
But yes…. I’ve had those struggles myself. Every third week I threaten to “out” myself.
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I can imagine. Also though, it must be nice to have that kind of anonymity.
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I get my share of flack. I quote: “Must be nice to be able to be hide behind a cartoon face and go around starting shit and then hiding, excusing your behaviour as that of your character.”
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That’s just because there’s an asshole lurking behind a computer screen ready to pounce when he has the opportunity. That’s the problem with the internet. It makes it too easy to spit words out that one can’t take back.
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I’ve been that asshole, too, I freely admit.
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Well, not *you*.
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Are you making fun of me? 😉
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NO! Not at all. I’m sitting here trying to come up with my own alter ego. Sounds like fun to me. (I’ve only ever done it in the bedroom.)
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It comes with its own set of headaches. I had people following both of my personas (or I’d be following them with both personas) and had conversations with them with both personas…. I could only keep that up for so long.
Of course, they were none the wiser. Eventually, juggling it all became too much, and I had to start focusing my energy on Helena (all the while writing the horror stories as Jessica). Now, Helena is pretty much my online presence, while my fiction writing is in full gear. I’ve got Volume Two of my memoirs in the can, and it needs editing and such, but I’m focusing on finishing my novel right now.
Who says you can’t bring Mistress Saucipants out of the bedroom and into the blogworld. (Just please don’t do cheesy erotica, darling, the market’s flooded. Seriously, I have to roll my pants up to the knees every time I go on line.)
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Such a wonderful post, Helena. One of my best friends in High School was absolutely gorgeous, model-like, but she did not see it no matter how many people told her. It’s so much about what we feel about ourselves on the inside.
I am glad Hasty has a friend like you. 🙂
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I don’t remember you from High School, darling… did we know each other?
Thank you for reading and joining the conversation.
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I recognise this picture at the end. I think you once did a guest blog for Aussa Lorens?
I do appreciate you writing so beautifully about this issue. Self image problems are becoming more common but seldom are understood.
I can’t believe John Lennon hated his voice! He’s ah-mazing. I guess it just proves that no matter who we are, no matter how famous we all have insecurities and we should all learn to accept them if not display them proudly.
My insecurity is that due to some vitamin or some deficiency, I walk with one foot slightly inward. Because of that my knees are different. I avoid wearing tights because then my knees are too apparent.
It’s treatable. I practice walking in a straight way. It’s fine. My family points it out quite often but that’s okay. It’s a part of me and I’m embarrassed sometimes but can’t do much about it.
Thanks again for a lovely post!
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This reminds me of Jewel (the singer)… not that I’m a huge fan, but apparently she has a tooth that’s out of whack — and as she’s got the money, she could “fix” it, but she maintains that there’s nothing wrong with it. It’s part of her — she even named the company she publishes her music under as “wigglytoothmusic”.
There is no such thing as perfection — you sound like you get this.
Yes, that was me guesting on Aussa’s blog. Do drop by any time.
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Wigglytoothmusic exactly. Accepting your flaws 🙂
Oh I will 🙂
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This post is a breath of fresh air. Or a spray of Febreze, if you will.
I have trouble seeing much good in myself. The truth is, I only know it’s there though accolades I’ve received. Maybe this was true of John Lennon, too. Maybe he persevered because of everything everyone else said.
By the way, I’m quite obsessed with John Lennon. It makes sense that you would write about him.
I think, once I recognize these things in myself, as opposed to having it validated from the outside, I will achieve happiness.
That really just occurred to me today, reading this post. I know happiness is not a destination, “I’ll be happy when…” I know happiness is what happens on the journey. But I never knew how I could attain it.
I think not being able to find the ways in which I shine has everything to do with it. I would say, I’ve had a breakthrough here. Reading your post. This would qualify as a “moment,” darling.
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I replied to you, but for some reason it posted my comment as a new, separate one.
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–Superb, thought provoking post.
We all have our shit, stuff we are dealing with, our evolving process.
Those people who judge, seriously, are probably envious as hell & dealing with their own so-called-insecurities.
Sort of like the Freudian theory…It’s really about “YOU, NOT THEM.”
*narcissist* is utilized too often nowadays, don’t you think?
What artists/writers should truly be identified as are **Effing Super Stars!**
btw, if Hasty wasn’t so stunning, nobody would have said she was a narcissist. They would have said, “oh, what confidence that girl has!”
xx Kiss from MN.
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That’s what Warhol called his actors/actresses.. Super Stars (in fact, if I’m not mistaken, he coined the phrase).
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As long as it’s a citrus-y scented Febreeze. I hate all those made up “Tropical Wind” or “Lilac Sunset” ones. I could bathe in grapefruit oil, though (and frequently have) as I just adore the smell of citrus.
But I digress. I do that, darling. I also do a pretty mean Debbie Harry circa 1975 CBGB (fuck Malin Ackerman, I should be playing Debbie).
You don’t achieve happiness in my experience. You find a way to either accept and enjoy your situation or you spend your life railing against it. I’ve done both, and the railing is exhausting, let me tell you.
I accept all sorts of good things about myself — I just wish I had the validation of millions of strangers — that’s MY neurosis. I’m a fame whore. That’s my “moment”, darling. Glad I could assist with yours.
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Even your comments are better than most posts I read.
Is anyone who blogs NOT a fame whore?
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I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again — if I didn’t have to blog, I wouldn’t… not that you all aren’t lovely, you are, but I’m such a neurotic when it comes to socializing. I’d rather just be in a locked room full of records and my stereo and a desk to put my feet up on while I churned out writing that once a week, some publisher guy (preferably a well-built twenty-something with excellent oral skills) would come pick up, declare me a sexy genius, and bring back to the world, and then leave me the fuck alone.
But sadly, my dreams have not yet come true.
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Me. Fame scares me. Don’t want it. I… just feel I have some things to say, that’s all.
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These comments are amazing. I want to like every single comment but then I feel like a stalker without a voice just poking people so they know I am here. lol I love “My Inner Chicks” comment because it just dawned on me…the people who said I am narcissistic might in fact think I am “pretty” but on the flip side they must thing my insides are ugly to call me a narcissist. Just a thought.
OH and I kind of feel super starish today and that feels awkward and amazing at the same time. Kind of like a peanut butter and mustard sandwich. And really this post isn’t about me but about the strange reality of image and self-image.
I will never get tired of reading your musings and the imaginings in your head Helena…such a great post!
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Hasty… I’ve been stalked online. By some… well, she was silly, and I’m not sure what her problem was. Seriously. If you liked my comments, I would not feel stalked. I would be flattered.
There is a difference. I’ve experienced that difference. You don’t have that stalker vibe, at all. Whatsoever.
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I love this comment for the simple fact that I have been accused of having that stalker vibe lol.
Seriously though what one person see’s has being kind and friendly another could perceive as creepy.
I have to be careful because I am sometimes over friendly.
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Cimmy is sometimes over friendly… http://wavemistress.wordpress.com/2014/07/29/my-story-im-a-crazy-stalker/
(shh, this is the story of our courtship)
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Hasty is my sister… and some other stuff… inside my head… we have done poems, and some of them were pretty weird. We had a war and did funny pictures of each other in Photoshop and posted them. I wish she saw herself like most of us see her, but then she would be arrogant and conceited and full of herself… and we already have me here to take care of all those roles…
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LOL I love being your sister…and other things…inside your head!
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well… you say that now… HA!
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I am learning much about you here, Helena, and more about Hasty from your words.
I did have doubts, but I see (as I had before) that I was mistaken. I’m sorry for that, but I thank you for enlightening me. It’s a good thing… the more I learn about all the SisterWives, well, the more I feel safe, appreciated. As I said before, I’m still sharing my own story, and it will make more sense then.
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I love when you write like this. The fiction’s an immense pleasure to read, and maybe that makes these rare moments of reality even more special.
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You want the truth? YOU CAN’T HANDLE THE TRUTH, darling. (If I’d played that role instead of Jack Nicholson, I would have added the ‘darling’.)
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If there’s anything I can’t stand about myself, it’s my utter inability to compartmentalize. I’m sitting here, by a pool, with my husband, celebrating his saying hello to me 12 years ago yesterday.
But what am I thinking about?
A drama that’s unfolding in spectacular fashion in my volunteer life. How I’m hurt and feel marginalized and not valued.
Why can’t I be a waffle and shut that shit off?? Instead, I’m spaghetti. Everything always gets mingled together in a big, inseparable blob.
My current experience would be a great post for this site, as I am being marginalized by men who are classifying my studied advice to course changes in an organization (I was a leader in that organization for 10 years) as emotional, personal reactions rather than objective business advice from years of experience. I only became upset when those things were said to me, as that is sexist behavior. Hence, the fight to be a waffle when I’m spaghetti.
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You are an encouragement to me, it upsets me that people are disrespecting you.
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It upsets me, too. But I’m a big girl. While I may not wear panties, I know how to wear metaphorical big girl panties when necessary. 🙂
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TMI, darling, but if you’re drunk, I’m sexy. Lol.
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The horrible things is…..I’m not drunk. I should be, but I’m not.
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Just sent you a short email
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When I first started blogging, I didn’t do it under my own name or persona. I was someone else, kind of. I have always doubted myself as a writer and as a person. I can understand John Lennon and Hasty’s attitude towards themselves. I also understand when you say just throwing compliments at them is not understanding them. You are a smart woman Helena, whoever you truly are. We are all such insecure creatures aren’t we? But we are beautiful in our own way in those insecurties. I don’t say much, but just wanted you to know I do understand.
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Thank you, Jackie. These are just things I know, and I gave up beating around the bush a long time ago. I figure if no one ever says what they’re really thinking, they’re always going to be misunderstood.
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Helena, I think these are the most superb words. Hasty is beautiful, inside and out, and I love her. Having voiced that opinion, I do agree that we (yes, we) sometimes need someone to simply say, ‘I understand.’
I am all too familiar with ‘dressing it up a bit to be comfortable with it’. I spent many years doing just that in one form or another. At 46, I am finally able to look at myself and be okay with what I see. Some days that is easier than others. I struggle a little more with the inside. I don’t always like that person. Fortunately, I’ve learned to shut her up even though it can be a struggle.
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You’re never going to be able to please everybody, and chances are, there is someone out there that actually hates you, or is just completely critical of you. My challenge to myself right now is to try go come to terms with that. I am currently letting one person ruin my day some days without them even saying a word.
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Boobs. Manboobs. Moobs. Larry wants plastic surgery.
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At Jack White now. Will respond to lovely comments tomorrow.
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You are both beautiful, both artist and muse, the brush and the canvas. Your homage is like balm and your words a salve unto the broken heart in all of us who struggle with adequacy in any form. Deepest respect. Love Red
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You made an excellent point that simply telling someone they’re “not [insert insecurity/perceived flaw]” doesn’t fix anything. It’s nice, sure. I don’t think people should be lambasted (not that you did that in any way) for trying to be comforting and encouraging. Like you said, sometimes people don’t know how to deal or respond, and compliments seem like a good salve for the wound. But if telling someone the way they feel about themselves (in whatever facet) is wrong and they’re actually [insert compliment/encouragement/smiley face/puppy gif] could remedy things, then everyone would just look at puppy gifs and put on a smile and go about their day. I think one of the wonderful points you made here was looking at the way we put a spin on what we see as our flaws. A lot to think about here and, as usual, you address a serious and sensitive topic with grace and intelligence.
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Lovely Helena … your post is lovely and so are you. Yet, it is this comment in one of your replies that resonated with me: “To presume you know someone by their online presence — is to me, the greatest insult.” I struggle with this every day, even when I’m not posting or commenting. While I’m being “Me” online, that is, not using a persona or a character from my writing, I’m not entirely Me. I could never be entirely Me online. So perhaps it’s my own fault if people presume to know me well since I don’t set them straight when they get it wrong. But I have my reasons.
I know I’m a narcissist. Would I even have an online presence if I wasn’t? I haven’t been to Hasty’s blog, but given how you describe her photos, I think it is courageous of her to post them, to explore layers and masks. We are judged first by how we look. For someone like me (vain, narcissistic), having a disfigured leg is still the hardest thing I deal with every day. It’s been over 30 years, but it’s only because I live in a f*cking hot climate that I go bare-legged and suffer the glances and curiosity of others.
I compensate by obsessing on my hair. I nurture the hair on my head and rip the hair off the rest of my body. I have been brought to tears by the cruel twist of fate that gave me both hairy legs and one disfigured leg. Okay, now I’m being too much Me. But this seems to be a good place to let it go.
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Helena, you articulated this more beautifully than most people could. I agree with what TwinDaddy said above. Anyone that knows Hasty knows she’s far from a narcissist. What an ugly thing to say about such a shining person.
Hasty dear, I know I was one of the people that gave you a “you’re gorgeous” comment but you know I also tacked on there that I understood. I really meant what Helena expressed so much better than I ever could here. I get it. I just wanted you to know that you are loved and I see you in a different light than you may see yourself.
As for filtering and layering myself? Oh, how one can count the ways…
I hold back a great deal. I find that lately I’ve been peeling back the layers, though & it’s left me feeling pretty damn naked/exposed. Some of you wonderful ladies here know exactly what I mean.
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