![Snow White, looking surprised](https://static.wixstatic.com/media/31c0e7_779de37d9f234229a0b04a16aee91a0a~mv2.jpg/v1/fill/w_980,h_656,al_c,q_85,usm_0.66_1.00_0.01,enc_auto/31c0e7_779de37d9f234229a0b04a16aee91a0a~mv2.jpg)
Did you ever have an idea that seemed wild at first, but you couldn't stop thinking about it?
I bet you have!
Well, much younger me had a WILD idea more than twenty years ago when I was on the submarine ride at Disneyland, feeling trapped inside that tiny, claustrophobic space. As I hyperventilated inside that metal death trap, I remember seeing a sculpture inside the water that helped me sit still instead of clawing my way out of that submarine.
The sculpture looked an awful lot like something I recognized as a Polynesian sculpture. My art historian brain immediately wondered why it was selected to be in this (horrible) Disneyland attraction and what it added to the story Disney was trying to tell. What were the Imagineers up to?!
That sculpture sparked an idea.
A wild, crazy idea.
An idea that has haunted me for decades.
I should document all the nods to art and architecture at Disneyland and write a book about it!
![Text reads Hello reclining nude pirate lady at Disneyland](https://static.wixstatic.com/media/31c0e7_e2d4aeca539b48c0ac8a0687afdbc654~mv2.png/v1/fill/w_737,h_438,al_c,q_85,enc_auto/31c0e7_e2d4aeca539b48c0ac8a0687afdbc654~mv2.png)
An idea for Disney art history takes root
The idea rooted itself, though I resisted it. At the time I was barely twenty and I believed I needed to be perceived as serious and only write very serious academic books. In my mind, surely anything related to Disney wouldn't be perceived well.
And you know what?
I was right.
Any time I mentioned art history and Disney in the same sentence, people would snicker or laugh or chuckle, as if I was some cute weirdo with a strange hobby who they pitied. So, I kept the idea (well, the obsession really!) to myself.
Where I allowed it to come out was in my teaching. I found that students were incredibly receptive to hearing about Disney's fondness for art history. We could chat sources and inspiration, storytelling techniques, nostalgia and idealism, and so much more.
At various points I'd start outlining this Disney book, but I'd always get defeated by my own thoughts. Mindset, it turns out, is important. Who knew, right?
![Inspiring Walt Disney exhibition at The Metropolitan Museum of Art](https://static.wixstatic.com/media/31c0e7_9864177b41574371a6c07f0ae3b415f1~mv2.jpg/v1/fill/w_980,h_502,al_c,q_85,usm_0.66_1.00_0.01,enc_auto/31c0e7_9864177b41574371a6c07f0ae3b415f1~mv2.jpg)
A turning point and embracing oneself
Then came a turning point.
A moment where I felt such shame and embarrassment that I never wanted to feel again.
A few years back (and couple decades older than young me on the submarine, gulp), I was doing some work at The Metropolitan Museum of Art. It coincided with the traveling exhibition Inspiring Walt Disney. I was recording some materials about Spanish art that happened to be installed in the galleries where the show ended. You could hear some Disney music and the excited chatter and laughs of museumgoers. It was so . . . happy.
But the two other art historians who I was with at The Met kept saying unkind things about the noise, the chatter, The Met's decision to host a Disney show. They made fun of the people attending the exhibition. They loathed Disney.
To my great shame, I even agreed with them.
I instantly regretted it, but wanted to hide my own secret: I wanted to see the show. I wanted to join the fun. I mean, what a GREAT way to get people excited about French Decorative Arts! (Side note: do you know how HARD it is to get people excited about French Decorative Arts?!)
I later snuck back to the museum to see the show, and the entire time I both enjoyed it and berated myself for keeping it a secret. I was so ashamed of myself. And that I'd somehow participated in shaming others (even if they didn't hear me)—that just compounded my own shame.
NEVER AGAIN.
That was the moment where I vowed I would just lean into being a so-called "Disney adult" and I'd find a way to write the book. Being in your 40s has to have some perks, amiright?
Fast forward a few years and I am finally doing it. But it turns out, it won't just be one book, but an ENTIRE SERIES.
Because I am just embracing my superpowers—connecting everything to art history and Disney. And I am writing up a storm! Besides the books, I am blogging about Disney movies, Disney parks beyond Disneyland, and a lot more.
I've got some big plans underway that I can't wait to share!
![Famous Spanish castle influenced Snow White](https://static.wixstatic.com/media/31c0e7_f715e9ba92ae4de48d8993adcb73830d~mv2.png/v1/fill/w_980,h_716,al_c,q_90,usm_0.66_1.00_0.01,enc_auto/31c0e7_f715e9ba92ae4de48d8993adcb73830d~mv2.png)
I can be serious about art history and writing about art history at Disneyland
You want to know another secret?
It turns out that I can be a serious art historian who focuses on Disney. I can write about Disney art history AND other things; they aren't mutually exclusive. I can still be a scholar who writes about Latin American art. I can write for non-academic audiences (and have a blast doing it!). I can write non-fiction and fiction. I can be an educator without having to stay within academia. I can use all the obscure movie lines and .gifs I want!
I can just be . . . me.
We can all be so many things.
If you've read this far, then you'e undoubtedly guessed that this newsletter is all about embracing who we are. It's about letting go of other peoples' opinions of us.
I hope you will join me on this journey of writing about art history at Disneyland. And if you know anyone else who wants to join in on this fun, please help spread the word!
As always, drop me a line and let's chat.
P.S. Remember, adventure is out there!
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