 Hi, welcome to the All Things LGBTQ interview show, where we interview LGBTQ guests who are making important contributions to our communities. All Things LGBTQ is taped at Orca Media in Montpelier, Vermont, which we recognize as being unceded Indigenous land. Thanks for joining us and enjoy the show. Hi, everybody. I'm here with Lydia Streich, who is an illustrious writer in many genres, including essays, dramas, and now fiction. Welcome, Lydia. Thank you, Anne. I'm thrilled to be with you and with your audience in Vermont, a city I've never visited, but a country. Yes, a state that I have never visited, but it's like my dream to visit. Well, it's a beautiful time of year. We almost met in New York. We're in June over your book launch, and I was able to zoom in for it, and it was a lovely occasion. The novel we're here to celebrate, The Teacher's Room, was launched in June, so it's been four months, and you've been touring around the world, really, with it on Zoom and in other venues. So congratulations on the novel. Thank you. Thank you, Anne. Let's start, tell our audience a little about you in case they don't know. Award-winning playwright, Lydia Stark, was born and raised in DeKalb, Illinois. She trained at the Drama Center in London and pursued an acting career in New York. You went to Hunter College in New York? I should mention that I pursued an acting career for one year, and then I couldn't bear it. And I went back to college just by accident, and discovered Hunter College was nearby and just started taking classes, and that really changed my life, and I realized there was, you know, I had a bit of a mind, and I like to think, and I like to write, and yeah. So that, that acting career was over, and it was only after studying other things, history and education, and journalism that I came back to the theater as a writer. And you also mentioned in one of your interviews that you felt constrained by the roles that female actors are assigned, or were assigned? Were assigned. Things have gotten better now, but yeah, I didn't feel comfortable in the the roles that were available to perform. I didn't, I didn't understand the emotions, because they didn't feel real to me, and so I didn't want to keep doing it. So you took the pen in hand and created your own roles? Oh yes. Huge roles for women. Always unusual roles, I hope. Many, many women who love other women, but not only, you know, just large, interesting roles for women. That was my goal. Well, let's continue with your bio. While completing a master's degree in journalism, Lydia wrote a first play. She has taught in schools and colleges, and her plays have been produced across the country and beyond. A teacher's room is her first novel. I have had the chance to talk with two other novelists who began as playwrights, and they both kind of said, yes, they have this career in fiction now, but their first love will always be theater, and they try to keep connected with it. Has that been your experience? No, no. My experience is that I had no connection to fiction at all. I was a playwright. I didn't, and it's embarrassing to admit, I didn't read hardly any contemporary fiction because most of my reading was involved with research, nonfiction related to whatever work I was completing, and somehow in the back of everyone's mind, I don't know, is the idea maybe one day I'll write a novel because it seemed to me a long process, something that I could take a long, long time to write and think about whereas a play comes fairly quickly, and then the opportunity came when I had four months to spend in Taos, New Mexico, which is a magical place at the Wurlitzer Foundation, and I started what would become the teacher's room, but I'd never, ever had a fiction course. As I said, I had not even a, you know, when I was little I read the classics and so on, but you know, so it was very difficult, and I really, my first draft of the novel had a summary and then dialogue. A summary and then dialogue was like a massive play, and I had a friend who happens to teach a wonderful, generous friend who happens to teach writing, gave me a kind of a 101, she said, Lydia, you have to show not tell, and you know, I had to wrap my head around that concept, and then I began to think a little bit like a camera to watch the characters move across the room, to look at what they were wearing, how they moved. These are things that a playwright leaves to the actor, you know, so it was all foreign to me, and so that I enjoyed very much, and then, you know, I heard from a, I sent it to an agent and she wrote back and said, you know, I like some of this, but there's no reflection. And I was like, reflection? I don't know what reflection is, how am I supposed to do this? So my friend again, very patiently said, pointed to places in the script and said, what does the character feel here? What does she think about this? And I was like, well, you know, again, that's what the actors do. So it was a very learning by doing, as they say. And it was probably the hardest thing I've ever done. But eventually, it really began to grow on me. So I think that, you know, I don't have a yearning to go back to theater, I'd like to keep trying this, you know, and see what happens. It's an interesting challenge, and I like it. And I was quite pleased to hear, although a bit chuffed to hear that some people felt it read like very, like it was written very easily, like it was, you know. It is a page journal. Yeah, yeah. But, you know, for me, just the idea that somebody actually used the word novel in describing this thing was miraculous to me, because I had literally, it was, you know, I had, was like from a blank page, you know, I had no, no conception of what I was doing. So how long did it take from when you sat down with your pen or at the computer until you were finished? Finished is a word. An abstraction. I was looking for scenes to read today or something to read, I thought, oh no, I should have used this word now. If I, you know, I could keep reworking things, add infinitum actually, but I started it, I think it was, I was in Taos, I believe it was 2015. And it took me, as I said, I had to learn how to do this. So it took me about three years, I think, you know, putting it aside and always thinking it was done, you know. And then once I began looking for a publisher and so on, I would go in again and yeah. And then, at some point, the publisher had to put the brakes on me and say, no, Lydia, that's it. You can't do anymore. Which is good. I know. I, you also mentioned in one of your interviews that you had to kind of stop doing the research into the life of the teacher in 1963. Or maybe I'm, maybe I'm mistaken about that. No, no, I didn't do a ton of research for this book. It's set in, okay, it's my hometown, though I never mentioned the name. I play a little game and never actually mentioned the name of the town. But and the characters are not based on the live stories of people in my town necessarily, but inspired by them and share characteristics with them. It was a world I grew up in. You know, so the research was fairly limited. I was inspired to write it by Lillian Faderman's work, brilliant work on lesbian life in America. And passages she devoted to teachers and their, their, the way they lived in secrecy and the profession. And otherwise, very little research for some of the specific moments later in the book that I, for not to talk about, I needed a bit of specific research, but generally speaking, just in that sense, this book was easy. I have one more question, and then maybe we could go to the reading, and then I have many more questions. Who is your audience, would you say? Okay, good question. Um, I'm greedy, probably, and I would, I would be happy if everybody who enjoys a good story would pick it up. You know, obviously, I was my intention to, to reveal the lives, these women's lives, who have been not not so often depicted in their full humanity, with all their passion, their desire, their intelligence. I'll just say that I grew up at the end of an era when, and in my little grade school, almost without, almost without exception, the teachers were what were traditionally called spinster school teachers. They were unmarried women. And of course, this was, they were some of the last teachers, spinster teachers, because the marriage ban, which had been in place throughout the late 1800s, and even through World War II, had been lifted. So around the country, more women who were joining the profession who could marry or wouldn't have to leave if they chose to marry. And so, but I had this lucky last moment with these dedicated, brilliant teachers. I loved them. They scared me sometimes, but um, and I wanted to kind of celebrate them. And uh, yes. So let's move to the reading then. Okay. Okay. So having said that, um, I'm going to read a little bit from near, near the beginning of the book. It's not right at the beginning. And if there's anyone in the audience who doesn't like to know anything about a book, what's going to happen before they pick it up, which is me. I then, you know, turn off your volume until I put the book down in about five or 10, less than 10, about seven minutes. Okay. But this is near the beginning of the book. And I wanted to, um, there, there are many scenes set in, in the school. And I use the school and we'll probably talk about this later as a, as a, everything that's going on in 1963 is seen through this one small school. And, um, and many scenes are set in the classroom where we watch the protagonist teach from inside her head. And there are many scenes set in the teacher's room. Uh, some very dramatic scenes as well, as you know, and, and some in the principal's office, because what school there's always scenes in the principal's office. And then there are scenes in the town and in the protagonist's home. And I'm going to, uh, start with a scene that begins in the classroom, not her classroom. This is an exception. It's a fellow teacher's classroom briefly. And then skip a little and continue. So let's see how this goes. I'll just say the reason I chose this scene is it, I hope, as naturally as possible introduces some of the themes of the book. We have to take things slowly, she says, so as not to lose our heads. She'll call as soon as she can. Days pass in which she greets me in the hallway or the teacher's room, like a friendly, distant colleague. I invite her to dinner, but she politely declines and hopes she can take a rain check, she says. And then the charade becomes too much for me. I stop outside the door to her classroom, which is always open. She has nothing to hide, she says, and peer in. The children are lined along the windows, carrying clipboards and pencils, straining for a view, some on chairs, the others on tiptoes. Esther is standing behind them. Look up at the sky, children. What do you observe this morning? There's authority and ease in her stance, her voice exacting and yielding at once. Clouds, Miss Jonas, they call out. Circles, stratus or cumulus? Cumulus? Will it rain? No, why not? The clouds are white. The children respond as one, well-mannered, content with themselves. Take your time with your sketches, she tells them. She turns to look up at the clock and notices me. I've caught her by surprise. She bows her head and makes her way purposefully to where I'm standing in the doorway. I'm longing for you, I tell her under my breath. There's a flash of irritation in her eyes, which are scanning the hallway. It will all work out, she says, with a breezy air, like a nurse calming a patient. She steps back into her room, glances back at me with a sigh, and closes the door gently, but firmly behind her. She's parked on the next block, she says, closing the door behind her, quickly, and walked over so as not to draw attention. She insists we close the windows, lower the blinds. She arranges her books on the table as if we're getting down to work and turns up the volume on the radio. Okay, she says, undressing me, we're safe. Safe from what? I want to ask, what is there to fear? But I can't form words, I can barely stand. You're safe with me, I manage to say, as I lead her up to my bed. But safe is the last thing I'm feeling, my desire for Esther is wrought with danger, the danger of losing control. In fact, I abandoned reason and every other faculty that holds a school teacher together. I go ape in her arms, I babble and shriek. Below my bedroom window, a car pulls into the driveway. Esther jolts up in the bed. Esther, it's okay. I'm laughing delirious with loving. It's only Bill, my neighbor, coming home from the late shift at Wurlitzer's. I reach for her, but she resists and pulls the covers tight around her. It's a very small town. People here notice everything, even things they don't understand and can't explain. It's nobody's business how we lead our lives, I assure her. I'm desperate to have her back in my arms. My body is bereft, but she's not convinced and keeps her distance. He seems startled, in fact. She's looking at me as if I'd said the world was flat. Your life is not your own, Karen. Surely you know that. You're a school teacher, a pillar of the community, a moral authority, whether you like it or not. I'm panting, tongue hanging. I'm not in the proper state of mind. A teacher should be judged by her behavior in the classroom, I answer, my own behavior in the classroom, notwithstanding. Esther looks up at the ceiling, then down. She clasps her hands. I can't tell if she's at a loss for words or praying. She gets up from the bed and walks to the window, glancing out from behind the curtain. Satisfied that Bill is not lurking outside. She sits on the nearby chair and takes me in with a perplexed expression. We're like those nuns of yours. They put us on a pedestal. We live for the children and the children alone. One false step, Karen, and down you fall. Even the slightest deviation can compromise your standing in the town and lead to your undoing. Our present conduct is grounds for dismissal. Esther's words are preposterous to me. Love is one thing. Work is another. My life is my own. I refuse to care what other people think, but I don't say anything. I nod my head. I'll stand on my head if I could. Anything to get her back in my bed. Her brow is furrowed, but she's coming round. She's in my arms. We make love. The holiest of acts. Heart pounding against heart. A pure communion. We are not immoral. I inform her as we comb. Our conduct is a form of devotion. That does it, apparently. Esther is sitting up purposefully. I want to tell you a story, Karen. It doesn't have a happy ending, I'm afraid. Thank you. That is so 1963. That's good to hear. I was 12 in 1963, and I think it was in seventh grade. In one of your interviews, I understood you'd say that you chose 1963 because it was a dangerous year. Well, yes. I think the reason I really chose that year, setting myself quite a task, was because of Kennedy's assassination, which I think everyone, of course, knows where they were and remembers that. I thought that would be a very potent moment in a school and in a classroom. Many children remember that moment as well and how their teachers explained to them what had happened or didn't. Surrounding Kennedy's assassination are many, many tumultuous and some positive and some very like Kennedy's assassination, very terrible, very moment. We begin with nearly part of 1963 with the Feminine Mystique, Betty Friedan's book. I mean, just the very beginnings of feminist thinking, just these ideas of the housewife is just beginning to appear. Then you have the March on Washington in the summer. Wow, what a huge, huge event that was. Then the bombings, the church bombings and the death of the four little girls. Mobile, I believe. Birmingham. Birmingham, that's right. Birmingham. I think James Baldwin wrote The Fire Next Time in 1963, too. I mean, you're right. There was so much percolating culturally, but it was all under the surface. All under the surface. What struck me, there's another scene that intrigued me, which was too long for you to read, but the scene within Chicago when Karen goes to the meeting of the daughters of Beletus. I have said, Beletus my whole life, but I guess it's Beletus. And all the discourses percolating in that meeting about lesbianism and assimilation versus. Well, invisibility, the dress code and how we should behave and whether we should demonstrate or how we can move into the society and become accepted, whether we should do it cautiously in our high heels and dresses, or whether we should go onto the street and be who we are. But that scene is very, very late in the novel and comes as a kind of a culmination in the development in the character's understanding of herself and that world. Yeah. What also struck me about that scene is, Karen, a lot of lights go off in her head, but the sense of community, lesbian community that she feels in that meeting. And that kind of resonates with me, certainly. But then I began to think more broadly about communities. And as the novel develops, the teachers in this little town who are all various in approaches to things also form a kind of community. Oh, yes. Yes. So my question to you as a writer is, do you feel like you have a writing community? Well, a very small one, but I do have some very dear friends who are writers and it's not the kind of community where I meet with them all the time and sitting cafes and so on because I have often lived separately and apart from my community. So in a way, I haven't had that the joy of being fully in a community and meeting up constantly and so on. No. But I did want to say something else about the daughters of villagers and that idea of community. And this is something that what wonderful Carla Jay brought up. You know, I somehow, I don't know, instinctively, I was working a lot with instinct and then found out, you luckily I got it right when Carla spoke and when this wonderful young historian of education, Rachel Rosenberg, when I met her, but I before that I hadn't done the research about teachers and I didn't know that there was a connection between large cities and small town life. And what what Carla Jay pointed out was that the only times that these teachers, lesbian teachers could feel themselves part of the community and be themselves were to drive to large cities. If they lived in small towns, their only moments of freedom to express themselves were to drive as groups into or, you know, then separately into the city and meet up in various times bars, clubs, and then with the daughters of villages in 1955. Finally, the idea that women's could meet in form their own sort of social clubs in the cities so that and as, you know, and that they could meet and gather apart from the bar scene. But of course, most met in the bar scenes, but to be together, they could dance together. But it was always brought with danger, absolutely brought with danger because these bars were being raided, they could be discovered. So it was a very great act of bravery and desperation they had to find outlets for themselves. So and this was particularly true for these small town teachers. And yeah. Well, the other point of interest in Carla's remarks is that she commends you for all the timely depictions, like of the bars and of as a reproductive choice element of the book that arises and the, you know, all the almost foreshadowing of current events that occurred in the novel, even though it's 1963. Oh, yes. I'm not, I'm not, I can say that there is a scene of illegal abortion in this novel. And I did that's where I had to do some research and I was shocked at the conditions women were undergo to have an abortion. But I had written this before the Supreme Court decision. So I was just flabbergasted because having done some research about the consequences of illegal abortion, I could not believe that we were being sent back to that period again. It was terrifying. But yes, so, you know, I think it's important that I learned a new term the other day, presentism. It's a historical debate now. And I think that I was trying very much just to imagine and relive, relive, you know, relive my childhood, but also to imagine what these the lives of these people were like in that moment. And then to see it come back, you know, we didn't talk about there's Karen teaches some things that she's not supposed to teach, because, of course, then there were certain topics that were off limits in the classroom. And here we are again. I mean, that never goes away. I know. And I suppose we should note that bar raids are no longer occurring, but repressive forces are offering lurking. I don't want to be apocalyptic, but you know, your novel is prescient in that way. You know, I'd really wanted to try and recreate as honestly what it would feel like to be a young woman in that world. And you succeeded, I think. And on a lighter note, at the end, when yardly soap appears, one of the students gives her a gift of yardly soap, I thought, oh, my gosh, yardly soap, of course. That was all the rage in 1963. Yeah, I used to give that to my mother every year. We all gave it to each other as gifts in the family. What a hoot. So it was delightful to be reminded of that. Yeah, getting or believe it or not, we're getting to the close of our conversation. What are your current projects? You're going around with a book all over the world. Yeah. My current projects are to, right now, I'm in the process of looking for some translations of the book, foreign publishers, and I'm still with this book. Other thoughts, feelings are going on in me, but it does take time for me. And I'm not really sure what my next project will be yet. And world events, you know, being over here right now in the middle of Europe, right, just, you know, a stone's throw from Ukraine. That's what's on all of our minds, you know, so it's a little tricky to try and imagine something else, but I think it will be helpful if I can, if I can get caught up in another world than the one we're in right now. Lydia Streik, thank you for joining us. Recently, during the Central Vermont Pride Festival, the Senior Center sponsored an exhibit of LGBTQ plus artists. And I will tell you that there was one portion of the exhibit in particular that as a gay man, I could not merely walk past it. Its composition and the emotions and response it provoked in me made me stop. So joining us today is the person who was responsible for the creation of those images. Please welcome Nate Buck to all things LGBTQ. Hi, everyone. So I want to start with, you know, talking a little bit about you. And I understand that you have a very strong connection with Vermont and specifically with Montpelier. Could could you share a little bit about that? Yeah, I grew up in the central Vermont area, grew up in Berlin. Montpelier is where I loitered as a high schooler. Some of you might remember me. I've always been in love with that town, but it didn't offer me what I wanted at that time. So I'm very humbled to be back. And I understand that you spent some time in Colorado and that you also spent some time at both Savannah and then the main college of art studying photography. So could you share a little bit about how photography came to be your medium for artistic expression? Yeah, I would say ever since being a little boy, like I was obsessed going through the archives, if you will, of my parents, like photographs from the 70s and everything. They are old. And it has always just tickled me to see how effortless like a photo can be or how you can really make it a composite image, what you want to be. So and then when I would have the chance in high school to take a photo class, I was in it and obsessed and I truly felt like that was my calling. It sounds kind of cheesy, but I had a really great instructor who is a Montpelier resident, Amy Koningbauer. Shout out. Lovely, lovely person and teacher and really influenced me to study photo. So do you use or did you then use both traditional film and digital or digital or? Yeah, I mean, part of the photo class was learning the film process, which is like very fun. But I've always felt that film is more fun when you don't have a deadline. So like classes like being in high school or even in college, it's a very like, it's a long process to really work it through those chemicals and everything and get exactly what you want. It takes a lot and I respect people that that's their main focus and their photography. I do stick to digital mostly, but I respect film. So you talked a little bit about composition. When you're approaching creating or you're starting to think about creating a photograph, is it a completed idea in your head? Is there a degree of spontaneity? From looking at some of your work, it looks as though you've done some extensive studio work, but you've also been outside doing some landscape photography. So do you go back and forth between inspiration and a deliberate composition? I would say I start with the idea of what I want to achieve and I allow spontaneity to be a component in making my composition. And then in editing, like post-me shooting, I'm a big perfectionist of just where the edges of the photo meet. If I learn anything from my classes in college, it's just consider every bit of the photo. What do you want in it? What do you not want in it? And I apply that to my compositions, but I would say there's plenty of room for spontaneity and just the unknown to happen within the shoots that I've had. When you're in the process of editing, do you find that you're looking at an image and by virtue of what you're just talking about doing, sort of shifting the focus a little bit, or how things are centered that you find yourself creating something totally different? There has been instances where that has been the case, but I really try to hone in on the original image and not completely change what was already there. There might be just a little bit of cropping and I don't use filters and stuff on the photos. Those are all from the work we'll talk about lighting that I was set up. But I try to make sure that I'm capturing the image in the moment and not making up for it in the post. Okay, thank you because that answers what was going to be my next question about, do you go out to an image and then rely heavily on what you'll be able to do with editing? And it sounds like no, you have this vision and it needs to remain clear and clean for you. Now, do you prefer doing work in the studio? No, most of my work is not in the studio. It may look like it, but I bring the studio with me wherever I go. The majority of the work that was showcased at the senior center was just LED lighting with color gels over the lights in my bedroom and someone else's kitchen or whatever it may be, none of them were taken in a real studio. I was going to say you are, have done incredible work perfecting your craft because that's not what I would have expected as to where those images had occurred and your expertise is clearly showing. So traditionally, this is where I ask people how their gay or LGBTQ plus identity has influenced their work. But in your student profile from the main college of art, you make a clear statement about trying to document the impact of the internet on gay culture. I absolutely would love you to expand on that. Yeah. So growing up in rural Vermont and kind of feeling like a fairy and not really knowing what to do with it, I resorted to the internet and no one knew about it. No one was invited into that except for the strangers I would find comfort in talking to. And I found that to be a pattern throughout the rest of my high school years and then even into college where I was finally able to express myself. And I was not ready to do that here in the full extent that I wanted to do it. And it was just a learning process to expand my horizons like really like dig into like what kind of gay am I or whatever that means and let it kind of just bleed out on my work. It was very important for me to leave Vermont for a while and have the experiences that I had with the internet as it changed. I mean the internet never stopped being a part of my experience. I mean like I didn't know Grindr existed until I got to Savannah and I was like oh god I'm in another platform but here we are. And it's just like commentary on how everyone participates in it and how I also want to like express that like I'm not ashamed of it and no one should be. Part of your narrative talks a bit about how you thought the internet had actually created greater distance between you know gay men interacting with each other and intimacy and lust. Could you talk a little bit about that and then I'm going to bring up the photograph that you said we could share so you can talk about how that came into being and what you hoped people would see in it. With my upbringing on the internet I mean it was very much a hindrance of me understanding what a real real relationship is or how to just come about come about other gay men and like strike the conversation. So I did find it a hindrance I do find it a hindrance still but it is one of our outlets so it was always just like kind of a I was torn in between both and like the lust and love it's just like sex at your fingertips with these apps so you can easily just get distracted if you wanted something more out of a relationship so that's really what I was diving into is that we all similarly utilize these platforms but I think part of us doesn't just want sex and some of us don't just want love and it's just kind of all there together. And then we have to figure it all out so I'm going to bring out the image now that you had given us permission to share and I'm saying that because I want people to be respectful of artists and their work in giving permission but this is a phenomenal image it provokes some very strong emotions what is it that you were trying to capture or what were you hoping people would see in this image? So this actually goes back to spontaneity. I knew I set up the lighting how I wanted it and got the self-timer on I had a friend helping me along with my subject I'm also in that photo but with the tattoo so it was it was challenging but it worked out I this was like the perfect mix of what I wanted from that project I see both lust and love in this and that's what made it really challenging this is the photo that started that project I would say this is the photo that gave me the vision and had me figure out what the concept I was making because the concept wasn't there entirely until I made this image and then how to move on from this image and make a body of work so this is a very important image from that body of work and everyone's favorite and it's one of probably my favorite photo I've ever made. Okay that's good to know that it's one of your favorites and because I from having looked at that entire series you could see how the emotion started building from image to image to image and having said that if somebody who is watching this interview says I want to see more of his work how would they be able to do that? At this moment I've got an Instagram page so it's pretty low-key at the moment um but I will say like I am creating more work and I've kind of been on a hiatus for a couple years and I've not really put the energy or effort into making work and I feel re-inspired and there'll be a website soon once I feel like I've started creating a body of work. So when the website comes into being you of course will let us know so that we can promote that. If I wanted there were several of your images that really spoke to me if I wanted to obtain copies of those is that something that somebody could reach out to you and say I you're shaking your head like yes please support this. I have an external hard drive with all the files I know where I can print so absolutely I do have a lot of copies just stored here as well but a fresh print is very possible. Is there any chance that there will be even a small exhibit in the near future similar to what happened at the Montpellier Senior Center or is that something that's a distant project? I would say a little bit more distant. I really want to I like I mean the reason I showed at the Senior Center with this work from my senior thesis is because it did not get it didn't get a life here and I kind of wanted to reintroduce myself to the art scene and well I guess I was never really a part of the art scene in Montpellier in central Vermont and I wanted to just put it out there of what I have and I'm very proud of the work but I am you know definitely in a different direction but I still have the same values and there will be similarities I'd like my signature stamp in some way. So I want to ask you to expand a little bit about some things that you reference reintroducing yourself to the arts community here in Montpellier what is it that we could be doing to be more supportive of queer artists and what could we be doing to create opportunity in space for queer artists to exhibit their work? I would say that there's a lot of talented artists in this community but I don't think there is enough shock factor I think that there needs to be a little bit more opportunity for younger artists. I see a lot of great work in Montpellier but I feel that I don't know where I fit into that I feel like it's very like PG-13 and you know I could be like not rated in some of this some of the content that I have and I think that there should be more opportunities for like that to exist and I know that you don't want to show your kids like a certain amount of things but I think there's a place for it and I think everyone should have an open mind and collaborating could be so cool and I'm excited for the future of what I can do with other Montpellier artists. Okay so what we need to do is give our artistic community permission to be edgy to maybe make us feel a little uncomfortable to squirm a little bit in our chair and perhaps expose each other to things that we hadn't necessarily experienced on our own. Yeah I think there's like a lot of vulnerability in my work and I'm not going to say that there's not vulnerability in the work that I've seen Montpellier but I and it's probably a lot more abstract than the way I'm throwing myself out there just because I'm a photographer and it's very like straightforward like portraiture and whatnot. Yeah I think that there could be a little bit more edginess in the area absolutely um here to shake it up. All right I'm I'm going to be looking forward to being shaken so with that thank you for spending this time with us and I look forward to announcing your website and your inclusion in an exhibit. Thank you so much it's been really fun. Thank you for joining us and until next time remember resist.