Super fan or stalker

At what point does a super fan turn into a stalker? I mean there must be a fine line. Considering that all of the typical stalker characteristics (e.g. following, reaching out for communication, and keeping tabs on them) are considered all right if you have a person who is famous enough to handle it. If a person decides to completely lose themselves in the minutiae of someone else's life does that make them crazy? Obsessed maybe, but crazy? Is obsession immediately a bad thing? I feel that if there is no desire to camp outside of anyone's personal home then things should be fine. Should be... possibly?

I have an addictive personality. This is, of course, a self diagnosis. I may find under certain psychoanalysis that the only thing that plagues me is an obsessive personality. I wonder if that is a strand of OCD, obsessing over things in phases. I also wonder if obsessive personality and addictive personality are two pages out the same book, cause let's face it, when you look at the definitions of the two, what is the real difference? You're addicted, you're obsessed. Can you be addicted to obsessing? Apparently I'm addicted to rambling, so I digress.

I go through phases where I decide to put my complete focus on one thing. Whether it is a person, place or thing does not matter. I've had bands keep me up at all hours of the night. Individual people have been the reason for me to glue myself to a search engine during work. How-to-fact scavenger hunts have put my name on the FBI watch list. It goes on and on. These moments come in spurts. I have a week or three of an intense drive to get my hands on everything I can, and then I peter out. Now I am faced with such a phase. And again I must get back to the point.

I went to a concert about two weeks ago and found that I hadn't known skilled musicians until then. These five gentlemen are incredible. They instill in a person the drive to go home, blow the dust off your own personal instrument and figure out a way to become a fraction of what they are. I burn with the desire to have music coming from the fingertips once more. As I'm sure you can guess these men and their skills are the object of my latest obsession. I scour the internet for interviews. YouTube and I are best friends, doing a dangerous tango to get to the sweet nectar that is the music (believe me; I know how ridiculous this sentence is, but it’s true). Nothing in my music collection sounded right or good for that matter. They are the only thing that I want to hear, talk or even think about. My friends are getting fed up. I've gone from multimedia to written literature and back. I am still very much impressed and left begging for more.

Believe it or not, I am aware that there is a point that I have yet to get to. Now that the back story is laid out, I'll redirect back to said point. Since I enjoy (to say the least) delving into fact seeking missions (about people is where my point lies for this instance), where is the line drawn between super fan and stalker? In the past when I've focused on a person there was a desire to meet them. Maybe have a great conversation. Never, however, was it to the extent of what I'm feeling now. I am not sure if it's because my initial exposure to my obsession was triggered by a live performance which seems to put them on a more reachable level, or if I can relate more to them (doubtful) than the other things I've become fixated on. I want to see them again. I find myself looking up information for festivals that they will be attending. I want to take a class taught by them. I want to learn their craft in order to be able to talk shop. No concert seems too far away. Soundtracks they have contributed to become much more appealing. It's obnoxious.

But what's the difference? Wanting to follow them around on tour is intense, yes. However any given super fan with enough money can say that they have done this at some point. (Money is the true reason I haven't toppled over the deep end.) I want to hang out outside the venues they play at in order to possibly have a shot at a spontaneous picture and meet-and-greet. This, I have found, is something that has been done by their fans before and something that they are more than tolerant about. These guys have even put a spark back in my desire to date a brilliant musician, even though I know I'll most likely be widowed to their craft in the end. (This, I know, is where we start dancing along the borders of creepy. I'm not practicing signing my name with theirs or anything like that. It can be any musician, not just these guys. I just want to be that close to someone that driven and brilliant.) I have a sudden desire to find out everything I need to know about camping and attend music festivals. I just want to experience the music in any way I can. A fan of any genre of music, let alone the band itself, would want to experience as much. So where is the line drawn? I'm not writing letters to them, begging for their attention. I can even resist the urge to send them multiple tweets. There is no desire to surprise them at home. All of the information that I seek out, (interviews, music videos, and documentaries) are things that they put on the internet (sans a few fan posted performances) for people to find.

They are inviting me into their craft. Not their life personally, per se, but the life that they have built around what they do for a living. I'm just taking the invite and running with it. Like a cheetah. I just wonder if I've gone too far. Farther, I'm sure, than anyone I know would deem healthy, but everything I have done is open for the general public to do. Nothing was hacked for me to get my facts. In most, if not all, of these cases I am not alone in seeking things out. I may be the only one going after all of it this intently and all at once.

I don't know why I pounce so fiercely. I have no idea why the minutiae of these guys are so important to me. All I know is that it is. It is the object of my desire. Being fueled by their music is what I want. The feeling that things make more sense with their music in my life makes me eerie. The feeling obviously isn't much of a deterrent. It hasn’t slowed me down at all, actually. I'm going to ride this out to the end. I never have before worked to quell the desire once it starts and I have no intention to start now. I'm interested to see how long this carries on. All in all though, I still stand by thinking on myself only as a super fan.

Don't blame me.

I am into Pin-Up art. I love the artistry of the many artist. I love the fluidity of the body movement captured by oil paints on canvas. I love the life placed into the drawings. I love the story and evolution of the iconic pin-up girls, from the Armstrong girl to the Vargas girl. I love Pin-Up. The sexuality of it. The blithe and seemingly lithe qualities of it. I love the art of it. I know from experience that to deny the sexuality of it will turn me into the the-girl-who-denies-to-much. I also know that with the title "Pin-Up" comes the understanding of what some consider soft-core porn. That is not my problem.

Over the years Pin-Up has fascinated me. I couldn't truly tell you why without making myself look or feel bad. With everybody trying to place me under certain labels it was hard for me to stand by and express myself freely. Now that I have delved into the history of the art I find myself facing further scrutiny. Everyone has an opinion on everything. That doesn't bother me until I feel trapped. If I throw something in your face that you don't agree with it is your right to let me know.

Situation: I got a new book on the art of Gil Elvgren. I brought it to work. This book is believed to have 98% of his art compiled together. I took the dust jacket off to avoid and issues about the risqué art on the cover. The book without the dust jacket is black with only the title. I had someone take it upon themselves to open the book and flip through the pages. There was no time for me to explain what it was. There wasn't even time for me to warn about the nudity. They flipped through the book stopping to look at the nudes and giving their opinion. I later was given a talk about how in the future I shouldn't have that book or ones similar to it with me. Someone could take offense and report me.

Reflection: You took it upon yourself to peruse my private property. If you had left my things alone or looked only instead of touched, you wouldn't have known about the racier content (for the book was closed). This is not my fault. You cannot chastise me for something that you took upon yourself to indulge in without invitation. I feel that the advice that was given me was not earned. Instead I shall return the favor: in the future, do not take it upon yourself to go through things that do not concern you. If it isn't yours, leave it alone.

Situation: In the event of needing somewhere to send my items bought online, I have it sent to a friend's house who also happens to be the host of my weekly bible study. The person whose house it is does not mind the art. In fact her only request is that it is not flaunted in front for her son. As much I understand. My sole appreciation of the art of Pin-Up does not fall in the nudes. It is not my mission to sway the steadfast beliefs of the men of that house. Or even to trip them up. This is not for them, it's for me. I recently had two more books sent to their house. I left them both sitting on the the table where I'd removed them from their packaging. One of the other guest saw them, chose to pick up the book titled 1000 Pin-Up Girls, flip through it and cause herself to become angry. I then received a stern talking to about the objectification of women. How these images were all there to give men a happy thought to masturbate to. How it belittled the motivation behind WWII and Vietnam war because the pin-up girls was chosen as a mascot of many troops and plastered on planes. Every argument I had was shot down. This person happens to be apart of a coalition to get women out of the terrible ring of prostitution. As much I was aware. She hates everything that stems the thought that the only thing that a woman can offer a man has to do with sex. That is an amazing thing to stand by. She has placed herself above all things that objectify women. She feels that the only image a Pin-Up girl can give is a sexual one. And yet, she still took it upon herself to open the book that clearly labeled itself for what it was. A walk through the top 1000 pin-up girls.

Reflection: You hate things that objectify women. You see something lying there that has every clue that it will go down an alley that you do not agree with. Do you leave it alone because it isn't yours? No, you take it upon yourself to start finding where you should point the blame. You then choose to not only, point premeditated fingers but to pick up the book to confirm if it is as awful as the title preludes. When it is, you are hyped up and ready to fight. I am thankful for the words of the young man originally accused for owning my books. After the person expressed the continued fact that the women are objectified by men, he states that some women chose to allow themselves to be objectified so the blame isn't all on men. I then remember words from a favorite movie of mine. "Since when is women simply a helpless animal?" We have just as much control over our lives as men do. Just because there are some that are lost in the thought that they are not worth anything, doesn't mean we are all confused about where we stand in the world. She hates that the book was about women selling they're body images, but she took it upon herself to look at the images. I did not shove it in her face. I merely forgot to put it away. If she feels so strongly about it, she should have left it alone. Do not rebuke me for having a part in the process of teaching girls that sex is their only image. Do not take it upon yourself to go through things that do not concern you. You looked at the book, took in it's title and immediately started forming your negative opinions on the subject. Then you got mad that the images in the book followed suit to what the term Pin-Up means to you. Don't get mad at me because you can't let sleeping dogs lie. If it bothers you so much, then by all means don't partake in it in any fashion. That means don't look at it, don't touch it, don't give yourself reason to talk about it. Translation: don't look at my books, don't touch them, don't fuss at me because you can't leave well enough alone.

Why do people feel the need to touch and remark. It isn't yours. Leave it alone. Leave me alone, unless I deserve it by shoving it in your face when you do not agree. If you can't handle it, keep your opinions to yourself. No one's asking you to undergo this great ordeal. If you want nothing to do with it...by all means LEAVE. IT. ALONE.

How amazing, how creative! But I was just trying to get by.

In the many thoughts that went through my head today (is this rocket science, I need to comb my hair, is it spiked...hahaha, dang it I need to get back to work), I found myself remembering a project that I did for my fifth grade science class. The teacher gave an assignment to take a twenty six words from the glossary, one word per letter, and illustrate or find a picture for each one. Then we were to bind it together into a book. We were allowed to make it as professional as we wanted. Take it to Kinkos or whatever, she even showed us a couple of examples. I wanted to do something along those lines, however I one of three children in a single parent household and we didn't have the extra money to throw at a book binding. At the time I didn't have a way to get picture of these things either so I had to figure a way around that also.

Upon looking around the house I found construction paper and crayons. I decided to rely on a skill that I had (though never nourished) and drew all of the images for the words that I chose. My mother, always helpful when it came to homework, decided that since we didn't have the rings to bind it we would instead use some brown shoe laces that she had. Now that I think about it, I have no idea where she got them. I can't remember a single pair of shoes that would warrant brown shoelaces, but I digress. I turned in my book along all of the professionally bound ones. I don't remember being ashamed of what I had. I do, however, remember being slightly unhappy with some of my drawings. But what was I going to do? *shrugs*

A few weeks or so later we got our graded books back. When the teacher got to me she took the time to squat down and tell me that she was extremely impressed by my creativity. She loved that I chose to draw images for all of the words and that I bound the book with shoelaces. She was actually at a lost for words to describe how she felt. I never thought that with all of the spirals that were turned in that mine would be the one that stood out in her head.

I love that my teacher saw an amazing, creative feat when all I was doing was getting by with the resources that were available to me. It's surprising what people notice sometimes.