During high school I took more serious art lessons, and it was hoped (by my mother especially) that I would find my vocation there. [My interest & creativity in photography came about later, after graduation from college, especially with the births of several nephews/nieces and the adoption of my 1st sheltie, Cimarron, etc.] As it turned out, my interest in caring for animals was greater, and required more education, so I majored in biology in college. [ Here's some examples of my visual art work, from a "show" I had in the late '80s. Just click on this thumbnail picture if you would like to see a larger view: You can see more of my individual pieces of artwork on some of my other pages linked below.] My interests were always scattered, and I was as easily distracted then as I am now, (*due to ADD, undiagnosed until 10/98). I was never satisfied with any single artistic or otherwise challenging endeavor!

At age twelve, I began another creative rebellion. First, I began to grow my hair long (against my mother's preferred Pixie style I shared then with my sister Sue, 5 years younger than me). Soon, I reactivated my interest in music. While I had taken piano lessons for 2 years in fourth-fifth grade (from an elderly nun who thought I was cute but never gave me anything challenging to play), this time I wanted to play guitar (which was considered "really cool"). I especially wanted to play songs I heard on the radio (ie. late sixties: folk, pop, rock). My first class, however, quickly proved to be yet another frustrating reminder of my physical limitations. As I sat there with my older brother's guitar (ie. "standard size"), the teacher (another, much younger, nun) just shook her head and started saying, "...I'm sorry!" My arms and fingers were obviously much too short to form chords or effectively strum that guitar. (*Besides that, since I am left-handed, I held the guitar upside down!)

Still, I was unwilling to admit defeat, and I begged her to let me try. Upon seeing my immediate disappointment and fighting determination, she offered a solution. She spoke of a type of ukelele, Baritone, she could lend me to play instead. She continued her description, that this instrument was somewhat like a "classical" (nylon strings, as opposed to steel for the "acoustic") four-string guitar, the exact notes as the 1st four of a standard, acoustic guitar (ie. E, B, G, & D, I think? ). While I wasn't immediately impressed with her offer -- because I was much more concerned at the time with how it looked rather than how it played -- I soon learned basic chords and started playing/singing popular songs (e.g. Country Roads & Leaving On A Jet Plane, etc., by John Denver)

When a visiting relative heard me practising one day and complimented me for my singing voice, my path as a vocalist and eventually a songwriter was born. [Soon, I'll be transcribing some of my poetry & song lyrics on my Artist_Etc site as well; you can check out that link below.] At the end of those lessons, my teacher sold me that ukelele for $10, and I played it for about ten years, through high school and as a music minor in college... until the day I saw a three-quarter size acoustic six-string Yamaha� guitar hanging in a music shop window. At that moment, "I knew we were meant to be together", so I bought it (the day after I purchased a set of downhill skis, with related accessories)-- and "we've been together ever since"!

By this time I had already been performing publicly in many settings: for family gatherings, at college and local coffeehouses, at school events and academic recitals, and at the annual LPA national conventions. Finally, finishing my college degree, winning as a finalist in a city-wide talent search, years of difficult therapy, support from new friends, eventually accepting myself and coming out as a lesbian, finding stable employment in the pet care field, and performing my original songs, have all helped me to overcome my basic shyness and most of my insecurities!

Often, people tell me that I appear quite relaxed and outgoing when I'm singing to an audience or speaking with customers about their pets. Although I am nervous at the beginning of each situation, these are activities I have truly enjoyed and feel good about sharing, so I can escape momentarily from the prison of my self-image. While the glow of my performance is still strong and I'm drawing attention, my confidence seems apparent. When my works aren't "on display," however, it's still very difficult & awkward for me to promote myself or my art (through verbal descriptions or even through suggestions to view these web pages), so I rely greatly on "word of mouth" from those who already appreciate my works!

It's easy for us (LPs) to be recognized and remembered for our size, so exploitation and/or rejection are the risks that Tekki and I fear or face most. As serious performers in the very competitive and phony entertainment field, these are the greater pitfalls and more exhausting aspects of our talents' survival.

Tekki and I feel strongly that someone (ie. a "really" talented/professional LP performance artist) must break the cycle of stereotype casting that history and the patriarchy have perpetuated: in our case, as "cute or grotesque" non-human, mythological, or alien, asexual beings. Even within LPA there is controversey over and with those who continue to participate in "traditional" roles for little people in the entertainment industry. While LPA continues to feature talent shows at our national conferences (to share our abilities amongst our own, as well as to inspire the younger generation toward diversity of talents), the organization continually tries to protect the images that get projected to the general public. Therefore, there is only minimal encouragement to those who might consider applying their performance skills professionally.

Physical accessibility has rarely been an issue for me personally in my performances or in the feminist womyn's community (ie.*until more recently). Conversely, attitudes -- both subtle and obvious -- are slower to change and filter toward me. Despite my ability, my looks do play a fundamental role in people's reactions to the performances and can affect the gigs I'm offered and/or payments I receive. {Many of the appearences/performances I am asked to play have more to do with my "success" as a disabled/LP artist, than my general appeal/perception as a talented singer/songwriter, etc.} Moreover, I am also instinctively distrusting of anyone who says they wish to represent me, for fear of exploitation (e.g. booking me as a "singing leprauchan, elf or clown" character for various saloon, holiday or children's parties).

Many do not wish to (or are unable to) see me as a whole human being: musical, intellectual, emotional, humorous, serious, and sensual. They are easily offended when I remind them in my words and actions that I am indeed all of these things, and more, in addition to being short statured.

I have found the womyn's cultural world to be more sensitive and open to change in these attitudes -- but I've found acceptance of little womyn as sexual beings to be a bit slow.

There is a need not only to accept the little womon, but also for taller people to accept themselves seen with that little womon as an intimate and equal. There wil be stares and uncomfortable attention received by anyone dating or keeping company with a little womon. My friends and I share optimism that my increasing presence and outspokenness in the lesbian community will help speed total acceptance of my difference and sameness.

Coming out as a little lesbian artist (or "the differently artistic dyke," as I sometimes refer to myself) was indeed my greatest challenge. It still feels scary and exciting as I come out different groups, such as LPA. There were many issues in my family life -- social, physical (such as my back surgery in '86), artistic, employment-related, and academic -- that took priority, but the issue of my true sexuality was always underlying. It surfaced periodically with intense anxiety until I finally accepted it at the age of thirty-two. Even after I stopped denying my feelings, it was difficult for me to meet lesbians and gays, because I was living on the far southwest side of town where the LesBiGay population was much more hidden than it is where I live now. There wasn't any obvious LesBiGay visibility (e.g. rainbow flags, pink triangles--, labryses, purple lambdas, and/or double women/men's symbols), much less tolerance or open discussion. Fear of being visible was an issue for me as well, and prevented my participation in many activities and events. New friends have helped increase my self-esteem, pride, and confidence levels. (I've since moved closer to Mountain Moving Coffeehouse, those newer friends, and the center of various LesBiGay activities, and I participate in whatever events I can.)

Since music was an area in which I felt somewhat comfortable, I began exploring the music of womyn not heard on mainstream radio. It's been in womyn's music and culture that I've found the most pleasure and pride. Since I enjoy being visible and breaking down the barriers of fear and ignorance, my performances have become an important aspect of my visibility. I'm singing at more gay events than to general audiences these days, and I really enjoy doing womon- and gay-positive music.

---

The need to end the silence of our existence continues to push me, as much now as in the beginning, (e.g. while making acquaintances with as many friendly LesBiGay celebrities/entertainers as possible). My first attempt was to inquire through a letter published in a '92 issue of Lesbian Connection, then to come out publicly during the '93 LPA national conference held in Chicago. For the annual talent show I performed my latest original song called Is It Safe To Come Out?, relating to anyone's secret insecurities. There I also facilitated a workshop about Other Differences that allowed me to bring up this not-so-visible aspect of myself (being a lesbian), while it allowed some others within our membership to discuss things that make them feel alienated. Although we didn't have time to cover everything, the agenda included topics like other disabilities, more rare types of dwarfism, physical or psycho-social addictions, being of a racial or religious minority, having a spouse/partner of average size, and so forth.

Indeed, it was a good first step, and I am proud to be one of the first LPs to open this closet door for us!

ABOUT THE WRITERS: Laurie Benz is/was a versatile singer of classical, folk, country, blues and sometimes rock & roll, performing covers and original pieces solo or in harmony with other friendly artists. For quite a few years she enjoyed a regular relaxed gig as a street performer on summer weekends at Lincoln Park Zoo. She also performed occasionally for Mountain Moving CH, other queer/straight venues around Chicago and/or during womyn's music festivals' open mic. opportunities.

*More recently Laurie has taken a prolonged hiatus from her music due to increased disabling conditions & the medications (side-effects) she must take for them. -- Still, with the age of the internet, she has found other ways to share her creativity, as well as her enthusiasm for increased Q-LP visibility with the whole wide world (i.e. WWW)!

Tekki Lomnicki, on the other hand, can't stop writing, even in her sleep. She can be seen performing on & off stage in Chicago with friends and strangers alike. She believes that there's a poem hiding in every situation!