bookmark_borderThe statue family expands…

On Tuesday, April 2, at about 9:30 p.m. a large black truck pulled into my driveway. Inside it were two new statues, coming to live with me. 

That’s right, two.

One of these statues was Robert E. Lee. This statue, I had been anticipating for a while. About a year ago, I paid the deposit for him, and over the course of the year I received pictures documenting the process of creating him, from sketch to clay model to molds to finished product. Watching my statue come into the world was such a cool experience. Once the finishing touches were complete, I put the delivery date on my calendar, and I was eagerly anticipating seeing my new statue in person.

Four days before Lee’s arrival, the company that makes the statues asked me if, by any chance, I might want a statue of Nathan Bedford Forrest as well. This statue had been made at the same time as Lee, for a different person, but the original buyer had backed out. I thought it over for about 24 hours and, being me, said yes. 

So, wrapped in blankets inside the truck on that cold and drizzly night were two new statues: one that was made for me and one that I adopted. Forrest was closest to the door, and a little ways further inside the truck was Lee. The statues were lifted out of the truck and placed in their new home. 

Here is what they look like in daylight. In my opinion, they are the most beautiful sight imaginable. 

From left to right: 

General Robert E. Lee. He’s 4 ft tall, weighs 130 lbs, and is based on the statue that used to be in the state capitol building in Richmond, Virginia, as well as the one that used to be in Washington, D.C. He is one of a batch of 10 Lee statues that were made.

General Nathan Bedford Forrest. He is 4 ft tall, weighs 90 lbs, and is one of a batch of 5. Because he was a cavalry general, most statues depict him on horseback, and this is the first time a standing statue of Forrest has ever existed.

And of course… General Thomas “Stonewall” Jackson, who has been with me for one and a half years now. He is happy to have some friends!

I am having some landscaping work done in the yard, which is why Stonewall is not in his usual spot. For now, the statues are hanging out in this gravelly area off to the side. The weather has been rainy and yucky for the statues’ first week in their new home. Hopefully they don’t mind it too much! Once the weather improves, I will get them set up in a prettier, more permanent way.

I love the statues and am so happy to have them here. They mean so much to me.  

bookmark_borderPhotos and videos from Lee-Jackson Day

This past weekend was Lee-Jackson Day, the holiday honoring Generals Robert E. Lee and Thomas “Stonewall” Jackson!

One day, I would love to go to the celebrations in Lexington, Virginia honoring these two amazing heroes. But because I live too far away for that to be practical, I enjoyed looking at the photos and videos on social media. The celebration of Lee-Jackson Day confirms to me that there are still some people who believe in honoring heroes and doing what is right.

I also thought this would be a good time to introduce my new project: The Historical Heroes Blog.

There, you can check out photos and videos from the ceremony at Stonewall Jackson Cemetery, parade, and flag ceremony at Lee-Jackson Park, to give just a few examples.

This new blog will be dedicated to sharing content that I find around the internet about my favorite historical figures – art, quotes, statues, birthdays, holidays, events, news, and more. Unlike the content on this blog, the content on the new blog will focus solely on the positive. Given the horrific events of the past few years, positivity is a concept that often seems elusive. For the first two years of the statue genocide, it was almost entirely absent. But gradually, I have become able, through various avenues, to find small glimmers of hope that make me smile. Not by moving on from the historical figures whom I love, but by celebrating them and honoring them and incorporating them into my life as much as I can. (I wrote more about this concept in my post about Christmas and New Year’s). It is the desire to collect these glimmers of hope, of beauty, of goodness, that gave rise to the creation of the new blog. In the darkest days of the statue genocide, the idea of creating such a blog didn’t occur to me, because I assumed it would be impossible to find suitable content for one. Everything relating to historical figures was dark, sickening, horrifying, and negative. But the idea for the new blog began to take shape in my mind last year, and shortly after the new year I finally launched it. I am hopeful that the new blog will be a place for hope, beauty, and goodness, and a place to celebrate and honor historical figures, for years to come.

I will continue this blog as well, as a place to share my opinions, thoughts, and experiences about the things going on in the world. Over the years, this blog has undergone many transformations. At first, I pretty much stuck to sharing my opinions about current events, with a little bit of sports stuff and a little bit of history stuff thrown in. When I became interested in watching high-profile trials, my first-hand reports from the trials that I attended became the primary focus of the blog. Then the blog went relatively dormant for a while, when I lacked the time, energy, and inspiration to update it. Over the past few years, the horrible things happening to historical figures affected me so deeply that my writings became centered around this subject and the personal impact that it had on me. Recently, I’ve spent more time thinking about my identity as a person on the autism spectrum and how this is intertwined with the statues. I feel that my autism, my imaginary world, and my love of historical figures are strongly connected. Given that the majority of autistic voices seem to express political beliefs that are the opposite of mine, I feel that I have a perspective that is unique and different and therefore important to share. In the future, I plan to write more about my personal experiences with autism and mental health, as well as statues, historical figures, individual rights, and anything else that I have a strong opinion on.

As always, thank you for reading.

bookmark_borderPhotos from a snowy day

Here are a few photos that I took yesterday, during the first snowfall of this winter.

Stonewall Jackson braved the storm, and received a light coating of snow on his head, chest, and shoulder.

At the park near my house, people went sledding and made numerous snowmen. (It is always a mystery to me why people would choose to spend an extended amount of time outside in the cold, especially when the snow is still falling – I only stayed there for long enough to snap a few pictures of the scene before the wind, and the snow being blown into my face, became so uncomfortable that I had to head home.)

The Christmas tree was still on display, and adorned with a dusting of snow.

Ducks, geese, and swans bobbed peacefully in the half-frozen water, with the trees’ bare branches framing the scene.

Yet another family of snow people waved to me from beside the path.

The snow during the first half of the day, when these photos were taken, was of the wet, heavy, and soggy variety. The overcast sky lent a gray and gloomy feel to the day. But as the snow continued to fall, it became light and dry, flurrying through the sky. At work, people wearing fluorescent yellow vests frantically shoveled the parking lot and cleared the walkways with sidewalk plows. When I got out of work, flakes were still drifting down through the black sky, performing a delicate dance as I waited for my train at the train station. The parking lot, now empty of cars, was filled with large vehicles, plowing and sanding.

As I trudged up my driveway, the snow formed a glittering blanket beneath my feet, so beautiful that I felt bad to spoil it by stepping in it. Behind my house, Stonewall watched over his kingdom of snow, so pristine and white that it was somehow as light as midday, even though it was 10:00 at night. The flashlight, which I customarily bring when I visit him, was completely unnecessary as I walked through the peaceful and eerily bright scene beneath the gray sky.

I will leave you with one final picture: Stonewall this morning. The snow is now marred by footprints (mine!) and has started to melt, but hopefully this gives an idea of what it looked like last night.

bookmark_borderA poem (of sorts)

Crickets chirp quietly

And leaves waft down from the trees.

Branches cast shadows

Through the moonlight that bathes the yard.

The serene oasis

Stands in sharp contrast

With the atrocity that took place earlier

Somewhere far away

Yet somehow close at the same time.

My statue waits for me,

His bronze skin glinting in the soft light.

Dead leaves crunch under my feet

As I go to tell him what has befallen his comrade

But there is no need;

He already knows.

“I don’t have to tell you, do I, Stonewall? You can feel it. You know what happened. Your heart is sad, and mine is, too. We will grieve, and mourn, together. You are the one thing that makes me feel just a tiny bit better, that makes this pain bearable. Things like this, are why it is so important that you exist. Things like this are why I decided to bring you into the world.”

“Don’t worry, they can’t hurt you here. I own this land, and I will protect you. I will keep you safe.”

“I’ll try to get some sleep tonight, and I hope that you can, too. See you in the morning.”

Excruciating pain

Serves also as a reminder

Of the path that I’ve chosen.

This land is mine,

A world that bigotry, intolerance, and cruelty cannot touch

In which a little statue lives

Safe, protected, beautiful, magnificent

Who wouldn’t have been born otherwise.


bookmark_borderMoonlight – a poem by me

Moonlight shining down,

Spotlighting the bronze statue

Who stands calmly at attention.

The tree’s branches

Cast shadows across the peaceful scene.

Crickets peep

And katydids chirp

In a gentle symphony.

From a neighbor’s barbecue,

The smell of smoke wafts through the still air

Devoid of wind though a chill can be felt,

Signaling impending winter.

Cars rumble down the street;

A truck adorned with Christmas lights

Catches my eye.

I look closer and see

The name of a liquor company

And an ad for margaritas.


(Poem written by me, 9/27/2023)

bookmark_borderStonewall Jackson’s 1 year anniversary

Today, I am not going to focus on all of the horrible things that horrible people are doing and saying. That is because today marks one year that Stonewall Jackson has been living with me in Malden. In a world filled with beyond infuriating and beyond awful happenings, Stonewall’s existence is one thing that is 100% beautiful, magnificent, magical, and good.

I hope that you enjoy these photos of Stonewall over the past year as much as I enjoyed gathering them.

May 21, 2023
Me and Stonewall, May 29, 2023
Me and Stonewall, May 29, 2023
Me and Stonewall, May 29, 2023
February 23, 2023
February 24, 2023
May 9, 2023
September 24, 2022
October 24, 2022
December 12, 2022

bookmark_borderThree years

This weekend marks the three-year anniversary of what I often characterize as the destruction of everything that makes my life worth living.

The past three years have been filled with anguish, grief, rage, and excruciating pain so extreme that the pre-2020 version of myself not only had never experienced such pain before, but would never have believed such pain was even possible.

My pain is something that most people do not understand. People do not get why someone would be this upset about the fact that statues were taken down. They don’t get why metal and stone sculptures are what I focus on, rather than real people who have lost their lives. I have been called a psychopath, a terrible person, gross, disgusting, self-centered, lacking in empathy, racist. People do not understand why statues of Christopher Columbus, Confederate generals, and other controversial historical figures are so important to me that I feel that life is no longer worth living without them.

But this is exactly how I feel, as incomprehensible as it may be to others. This is who I am. If it makes me a terrible person, so be it. My love of statues and historical figures is a part of me, just as a person’s gender identity, race, religion, and sexual orientation are a part of them.

For approximately the first two and a half years, I felt essentially no happiness whatsoever. (A few possible exceptions: the 2021 Columbus Day ceremony, finding out about the possibility of getting my very own Stonewall Jackson statue, and receiving updates on the progress of the statue.) My emotional state ranged from unbearable, indescribable pain at worst, to neutral at best. In other words, in addition to being filled with horrific pain, my world was also completely devoid of beauty and joy. For this entire time, I seriously considered the possibility of committing suicide. Logically, it was the most sensible option. Why, after all, would a person choose to continue living when everything that makes their life worth living has been destroyed? When there is no reason to expect the future to consist of anything other than a mixture of excruciating pain and feeling just okay? Yet some combination of cowardice and faint hope, as irrational as it seemed, held me back from doing so.

I hesitate to write this for fear of jinxing it, but over the past six months I feel that I have very slowly begun to heal.

For example, one effect of the genocide is that I hate America, because this is the country where the genocide took place, the country whose people committed the genocide, the country that allowed the genocide to happen. American flags, patriotic songs, and red, white, and blue decorations, all of which I used to love, have turned into a source of heartbreak. But this past week, when I visited my grandma at her retirement home, the entire place was decked out in flags and star-spangled decorations, and patriotic country songs blared in the dining room. Somehow, instead of making me feel like a knife was twisting in my stomach, they made me smile.

Healing is not linear. There have certainly been instances of excruciating pain in the past six months, and I am certain there will be more in my future. But overall, they seem slightly less severe, and they seem not to last as long.

The past three years have changed me.

In addition to the anniversary of the most horrific series of events that has ever taken place, this week was also my 34th birthday. I am the same little girl who adored history and art, who never fit in, who was excluded and bullied, who loved historical figures more profoundly than any friend or family member. I am the same, but different. I will always have an imaginary world, in which historical figures live alongside completely imaginary people and creatures, talking, interacting, and having adventures. But now, in addition to that, I have brought a historical figure into the world. Or at least, a beautiful, shiny bronze body for a historical figure’s soul to reside in. A second one will be arriving either late this year, or next year. Instead of doing whatever society expected of me, and escaping to my imaginary world in my spare time, I am making changes, in various ways, to bring my real life more in line with my wishes, preferences, and needs. Although most people don’t understand my pain, and although I am not a very social person, I have made meaningful connections with people who share my views. I am taking action to bring my imaginary world into the real one.

So in addition to inflicting anguish, grief, rage, and excruciating pain, the past three years have made me into a more genuine, authentic, outspoken, courageous, wise, introspective, and self-aware person.

Our society decided to destroy everything that makes my life worth living. But I made a new thing that makes my life worth living, where one didn’t exist before. I had to use my own funds and my own land to do so, because our society decided that the things that make my life worth living aren’t allowed to receive public funds or be located on public land. But I did it anyway. And I’m kind of proud of that.

bookmark_borderGreen and gold

Golden light
Slanting through the branches;
Dry pinecones crunch underfoot.
Green leaves
Form a canopy over the bronze statue,
Glinting softly in the sun’s rays.
A wall of stones
Encloses his domain.
Ivy coats the trees,
Blades of grass spring up,
And little plants sprout from the ground
To form a lush, green carpet by his feet.
Birds’ chirps ring out
Through the still-warm air
As squirrels scurry,
Causing leaves to rustle
Beneath tiny paws.
In the distance a dog barks;
Cars zoom past,
Their drivers eagerly fleeing work.
The aroma of steak wafts
From a nearby grill.
Sunset will soon descend,
The world of green and gold
Gradually turning dark.