letters....

" Four and Twenty Blackbirds"
Photopolymer etching

I am totally overwhelmed with little letters that are arriving in my inbox....

I am simply a pool of tears by the stories the I am trusted enough to witness.

I am so thankful to know such amazing women

My parents had their private view of the show this evening....both were moved to tears, my father fell silent and had a hard time looking into my eyes, but simply hugged me and told me he loved me. My mother wept openly and loudly, and kept saying I am so sorry. It took my husband off guard, and he became weepy too.

I feel very raw, very soft and slightly afraid.

I am gonna need some waterproof mascara tomorrow night.

All Quiet Tonight...

marquee wall

I spent the day hanging the show in the gallery....totally absorbed and distracted from the emotion.

It was a blessing, as now I am simply tired and numb...

like I need a long soak in the tub but it will never be hot enough, sweet enough or long enough.

I was assisted by a dear new friend whose husband has terminal cancer, she knew this show was emotional for me, but insisted on helping anyways...her heart monitor beeping every now and then.

It served as a reminder for me to simply breathe and be present.

She told me after it was all up that it was a lovely show.

It went quickly, like a wedding after months of preparations.

The I was simply left in the gallery with my work, still cloaked in the plastic covers to protect the plexi from smudges and dirt.

Another new friend arrived and helped me lay the letters on the marquee wall

and

that is when it seemed so much more real.

Now instead of having this in a safe cloistered place, I have neatly framed, hung and lit the moment.

I have displayed it in a room for people to look at and possibly judge, but what I really hope is that I might have also helped someone understand what it means to be infertile.

How it has ruined the party, left a stain on the floor and dented the car.

All evidence that it is there and you can now see it.

Ask questions if you want, I will only give you the truth.

I wanted to make more comments on IComIleave week, so sorry ladies

I confess

I think I made a terrible mistake tonight....I was out to dinner with hubby and was trying really hard to simply relax, as my lack of sleep this last week has left me running on empty.

I am thrilled to have the whole show ready for the gallery but the stress will escalate Sunday and all of next week...so tonight was a "break" a date and a little relaxing.

As we were leaving I saw a woman who I know thru other people and her hubby. She smiled and started a conversation, "are you ready for the show?" I said I was closer and happy to have it open this next week. She said that they were coming to the show as they are personally familiar with infertility too. I said " I had heard, us infertiles seem to know one another" at this I saw the look of confusion and a little shock, then they were told that their table was ready...it was awkward and we said good night quickly and left.

I felt horrible...I have spent the last two days talking almost nonstop to people from news papers and online magazines about my infertility and I guess my sense of social graces has dropped. I need to honor her and realize that she doesn't talk about her infertility or refer to herself in the same way.

We raced home and sent an apology to her:

"Dear sweet lady whom I just barely know,

I realized as we were walking away from our short and very sweet conversation that I might have hurt your feelings...I am sorry.

I should have said "I am sorry that we are in the same crappy sorority". I am sorry that you and your hubby have also not gotten the results you had hoped for.

I have been speaking a lot about my own struggles with infertility,

that I guess some of my filters have dropped and I did not mean to make you or your hubby feel uncomfortable or angry.

Please forgive my misstep in words or actions,

I do hope that you still come to see the show, as hopefully my work will speak better then I did for myself.

The Barreness"

I have made a promise to myself that I will be

far far far better at being present and conscience in my words.

I hope she can forgive me...

Thanks friend

I saw these thanks to "This is more Personal"

they are so bittersweet...although they are funny, they are so right on.

Thinly Coated

My Grandmothers Hands

I am feeling so very raw.

Like I have the thinnest protection and yet I am walking thru a knife shop.

I am proud of my work, I do think it really speaks to the pain and loss both emotionally and physically that infertility makes.

As I look again at the work as I tuck it into their frames and mats...I am moved again.

Frightened and moved.

I simply feel like I need to be touched...that sense that you are not alone,

the quiet comfort, that someone else is there.

I am missing my grandmothers dearly and keep calling to them.

In moments of panic I find myself looking at pictures of them to soothe me.

My grandmothers are both gone from this world.

One a little over 4years, the other just shy of 2 years.

I had very different relationships with each, but both were close ones.

I was terrified when I told them about our childless future.

One simply wept...openly and deeply.

Then never mentioned it again, but asked once if I was still in pain.

The other wanted to make it all better,

she hugged me and sent me a card with money in it

suggesting I go buy myself something bright to wear.

I want to share this show with them...but I can't.

I have already decided to wear something to the show opening that reminds me of them,

a quiet personal reminder that they would be there if they could.

At least that is what I am telling myself

Awakened

I am feeling tired...stressed and tired, but there is still a lot of work ahead of me over the next week or so.

I feel asleep on the couch again watching cartoon, I watch cartoons in order to free my mind before bed and not think of the news or my body or anything.

My night was filled with dreams of testing, medical tests...reliving some and creating new ones.

Running from an ultrasound machine and looking for a bathroom, thru long corridors of mazed rooms. All while finding people I haven't seen since high school and trying to be polite but still needing to pee and all the while knowing that I only had five minutes to get back to the ultrasound room to finish the exam.

While naming my work yesterday, I dove back into the meaning of the piece; the inspiration, the element that drove me to make it. I know that a lot of my dream is about that.

My therapist use to joke that I had the thinest veil between worlds. I am thankful for that...but sometimes it just doesn't give me a break from myself.

I was feeling quite overwhelmed with emotions yesterday, but had no outlets for them. For some reason I wanted to carry them in my hands like a fluffy baby bird, peeking every once in a while at them from between my fingers. Never really opening my hands and letting it see the big sky. I never cried yesterday...but I feel a long soak coming around the corner.

I have awakened all the emotions, fears, troubles and pains from this road.

I know how deep into the woods that road goes.

The Barreness is standing at the entrance, she has candy and stiff drinks to tempt me.

I think I might make a signpost for myself, as I know how seductive that path is...

I do not want to get lost again.

Pick me up

show card

I picked up my prints from the photo lab yesterday.

I had to flip thru the images, to make sure they looked as I had intended.

The first image on the stack is that of a baby stroller, on seeing this, the photo tech said:

 "oh how cute is that!"

this made me cringe a little inside.

As I continued to flip thru the images her conversation turned to how they are the lab that processes the pictures for the crime scene investigators.

 (I thought that was a more appropriate response to images of loss)

She went into gruesome details of what they have seen and processed recently...it left me feeling weak and sad. As I had gone there excited to finally see the work printed.

I left in search of a pick me up...

I stopped by my garden and watered the sad, confused summer veggies and picked a couple baseball bat sized squash.

Then I went back to work and continued dropping off gallery cards to local venues.

When I made my last stop and placed my cards on the podium with the others,

the gallery sitter looked at me and said "I've seen this"

She was excited and frankly it was a great pat on the back!

all that postage and emailing was not in vain

She started telling me about her losses and what people said to her.

The good the bad and the simply mean.

Then she looked at me and said:

 "This is really important and it is a wonderful thing"

I didn't cry until I got back to the car.

Imagine

I am sitting here, trying to figure out details for my show...and trying to ignore the laughter and squeals from little people outside. Enjoying the last days of summer.

Alas, I could bare it no longer and had to see what was making them so so happy. Maybe in an attempt to feel that way too...

I saw a group of girls, all under 12 wearing bathing suits and taking turns running into a fountain of water that is spraying a slip and slide.

They are all so beautiful and unaware of their bodies, simply laughing and playing.

I stood there for a moment and tried to imagine that I was simply looking in on them, checking to make sure all were playing nicely. Sharing and taking turns...

After simply a moment, I felt the warm tears running down my face.

The idea was so so big, like when you realize how big the universe really is.

It was too much, all I could do was simply cry in awe of it.

Nerves

It feels as though every nerve in my body has been touched to a point of fraying.

Like a crazy old wire from a cloth covered cord in the 40's.

I have been bathing heavily in my history for weeks now and although it has been wonderful for my artmaking, it is starting to enter other aspects of my life again...the lack of sleep, the joy that doesn't linger too long, loss of hunger and loss of clarity.

I was talking with hubby and it seems that we are both nervous about the same thing. Watching the reactions of our family to the show. Watching them cry or tighten up and not speak to us again. Well, we know they will talk to us, but making them have to process their grief and loss in a more steadfast manner. My mother already cried at just the image from the gallery card. Hell, how will she or my father react when they see the far more personal work. I am nervous for them as well.

The one year anniversary of my first of three miscarriages is right around the corner and I am feeling the heaviness in my heart.

As I am trying to plan past my show to the next project/art idea, I am thinking about my Dia De Los Muertos altar. I wasn't able to make one last year, but this year I am.

Shortly after loosing the being...I found myself in a shop purchasing a little mexican folk art piece of a skeleton woman holding a baby. It seemed to comfort me, acknowledging our loss to myself. No one wanted to talk to me about it or their feelings. 

With my most recent recollections, I found myself seeking comfort again. My hubby told me that he feels it was and will be again, in some way, some where.  

I stumbled apon the Mizuko Jizo, a Japanese Bodhisattva.

"Jizo is the protector of children, expectant mothers, firemen, and travelers. Most of all, he is the protector of deceased children, including miscarried, aborted or stillborn infants. In Japanese folklore, Jizo hides the children in his robes to protect them from demons and guide them to salvation."

I am not a religious person(that is a whole other story), and finding this information brought me to tears.

I bought the snake oil and I now have a statue and it will be included in this years altar.

Hell, it made me feel better and that is all I was looking for.

I am coming out of the closet,slowly, but going public with our infertility on my other blog and social media sites. I hope it will mean something to someone other then myself.