Being Out and proud is not a privilege I have. I have told reporters and film makers to be cautious of elaborating on my relationship with my life partner (13 years now!) because of the dangers of the street.
I worship the street, it is our Agora, a bustling mix of sanity of madness. On one side of the street is a multimillionaire dealing in the stock exchange, on the other is a homeless man openly smoking meth in a crack pipe. The extremities of the street is something I have to deal with every day, it is something I deeply respect and really it does take a toll upon me emotionally. I quite literally sit in the middle of it and draw pictures upon the ground. Not only am I in the middle of it, I soak it up like sawdust on a pile of vomit.
Now with that in mind, I hope that one can understand how vulnerable I am on the street. On the ground, hunched over, back turned to the mob itself, meanwhile exploring the alternate reality of Art, (which is transversive of the universe and mind in its mere function).
Being Out and Proud is not a priority, nor a concern. I don’t consider myself a gay artist, nor do I really don’t care about the whole subculture. I am gay. It’s as simple as that, it is how my brain works and what appeals to me. In actuality, this fact should not affect anyone, I’m a monogamous dude and dedicated to The Wayne, my beloved.
Australia is still one the few Western countries that has not legalised gay marriage. A topic I don’t actually care about, but it inadvertently affecting me as it’s now going towards a postal vote. The first serious attempt to deal with the subject.
On Saturday I was working by myself. Some thirty meters, on a amp, is a preacher. I know the guy, his name is “Dusty” and is a former alcoholic, gambler and abusive parent. He was an orphan and suffered from sexual abuse from Catholic priests when raised in a mission. Now that he has found God he transfers his self-justified anger and hate upon the masses on the street every Saturday. His offenses against me have included calling me an Idolater, a pervert, “semen spitting abomination” (which is a titled I take pride in!), telling people not to give me donations because, “I worship the devil”, that my art is “rubbish and should be destroyed” – you get the point. Anyway, he’s a fucking nuisance nutcase I have to put up with every damn Saturday.
Well last Saturday was naturally topical, on the “Wrongs of Gays” and “Gay Marriage”. How homosexuals are unnatural sinners before god – blah, blah – how voting Yes on gay marriage is a sin before god and an insult to our Christian nation.
Here I am *trying*, like really trying, to draw this beautiful reproduction of Bouguereau and being forced to listen to this shit. This same shit I’ve had to put up with my entire life. So I cracked it, I unplugged his amp and threatened the guy if he doesn’t shut the fuck up I’m going to knock his fucking teeth out.
He did shut up, but called the cops on me. I told them to fuck off, but explained to them, I am gay, I suffer from PTSD and a long list of mental problems because of people like that preacher, (a truthful statement: I suffered another severe mental breakdown a few days after this event). Being reduced to animals, child abusers, being told I’m not untitled to basic human rights is what is called “Triggering”, used in its proper context, not in the way the term is thrown around online flippantly.
What “straight” people reduce to a political topic is an actuality to gays. Being gay is not being political. Expecting to be entitled to the same rights of others is not political.
Now, as my religious role dictates, I must be apolitical. It’s a really hard task. But I do not believe this is a political subject.
In my own religion marriage is a sacred act, it is holy and universal, it’s literally like death. Sex, gender does not even compute in the equations of what is marriage. So male/female only marriage is actually against my religious beliefs. By Australian laws on freedom of religion, I should be entitled to be married to my partner for religious reasons, regardless of if it is commonly recognised as being legal or not.
Anyway, being exposed to this garbage from this preacher, this despicable man, I came out on the street. I wrote in big bold letters “I am gay!”
As I mentioned at the start, this is a statement that can have serious repercussions to me. I’ve already been gang bashed, and Wayne has had his jaw broken for less. So it’s dangerous for me to do this. But fuck it. It needs to be said and I did.
I’m fucking proud of being homosexual, I think it is a sacred thing, it brings me closer to my god, to my love for life and to my partner. It’s about time for this backwater country stolen by whites and called “Australia” to embrace the universal rights of homosexuals.