Time after time

 ICE is in my town

I can hear the helicopters daily

My neighbors are all on edge, and terrorized.

There are trucks chasing down people, ripping them from their families at school drop offs or at work places. They come in unmarked cars, with people spilling out of them some in uniforms, some not. 

They are terrorizing the local farms, greenhouses and field workers. My area grows strawberries, celery, broccoli, avocados that not only feed our county, but the state and the nation.

I am forever wounded from what I have seen broadcast across community protection live-streams, help your neighbor, film what you see, encourage them to be silent and not allow entry.

One of my senators was handcuffed for trying to ask a question yesterday.

I am immunocompromised and exhausted, but today I am printing postcards that will be addressed and handed out at the protest tomorrow, in hopes to get more people to contact their representatives; write their rage to the white house and supreme court.

These most recent days have re-awakened a level of generational trauma I didn't know I carried.

I have planted food, I have touched earth, I have sat in contemplation and I am so deeply enraged.

I will not make excuses or ask for forgiveness for it.

I am shouting and screaming and fighting in any way I can.

My neighbors deserve better, children deserve better, the world deserves better.

Super Callus Fragile Mystic Existential Doses

 I am thankful to say we have faired well through this latest round of fires...

I had completely lost my shit multiple times in absolute fear, triggered by my past evacuation experience. There have been multiple fires since the Palisades and Eaton fires that created a complete hell-scape for so so so many people. Erasing their homes, security and sense of identity.

I have never been a real organized person; I thrive in chaotic environments it seems. I like to have a lot to look at, be surrounded by and feel enrobed in. This makes for a cozy environment, a creative looking home and wild artmaking. Many times needing to protect the finished works from myself because I have created a huge mess making it. Storing it out of the way while I clear the clutter that created it.

I have been the final stop for the families photographs, a century of them! I hold the responsibility of caring for them and that responsibility has recently created a heavy burden. With each evacuation, I have grabbed them and have often forgotten my own wedding photo, or some other precious item. To help me work through the constant onslaught of sadness, fear and grief  from the fires and the election I started scanning all the images. I can share them with my cousins and niblings. That way I would not be the only one to hold them and there will be other locations to view them/save them. 

These photographs are some of my most precious memories with my grandmother and great Aunt, as they were the ones who made most the albums. Using the photos, or snaps as they called them, as a sort of trophy of times spent. They would have gotten on the social media bandwagon had it been around when they were younger. My grandmother printed everything, wrote the name of the people in them and until the prints were dated by the photo developers, she dated many of them and glued them into albums. Spending days scanning them is like spending times with my grandmother again, It turned into an emotional, sacred and bittersweet experience, as I was scanning the 100's of photos I started wondering if I was the only one who these images really mattered to. Does anyone else really care about them? Will these memories die with me?

Last week I went to a dinner with fellow women artists, hosted in a home of a ceramic artist. One of the attending artists lives in Los Angeles and spoke about her experience during the first days of the fires...recounting how on the second morning she went outside to assess the smoke and the sky turned dark and it began to rain pages from books! She said they were recipes, songs, hand written pages falling from the sky...these pages had traveled 10+ miles and were falling in her front yard. 

I had read an article that more artworks had been lost in these two fires than ever before. The loss of artwork is monumental and has left many artists without homes, studios and their life's works both in process and finished gone forever.

 I can only imagine it from what I had experienced but I can not imagine the profound sadness, fear and emptiness that the fleeing created in each unique experience. The loss of generational wealth, memories, personal space, HOME...I can empathize, but I am reminded it will last for generations.

Animal support

Help a Seed Library

Artist Aid

We sat with each other, talking about our fears, concerns, shock and how to move forward from this point. All of us shared ways we disassociate when things get to be too much. At one point, I suggested we take a group photo with my instant camera. All agreed and after balancing the camera on many different surfaces and makeshift tripods, I was able to get a group photo. I mentioned the silliness was like being in a slumber party and that made all the ladies giggle with memories of time gone by. A photo was captured of me, bending in half to try and see through the viewfinder for one of the photos.

It was called the "human tripod"

Between the fires, staying off social media for a week to regain some sense of calm to focus, I came up for air just in time for the ICE raids today in my town! I know the next 100 days will just be shock after shock in an effort to make us all apathetic and so burnt out we don't respond anymore...but it is not going to happen. I know others that feel the same and it is in those people who I set my light to.

Although I am super callused and done with a lot of things

I am still fragile but also believe in magic

even amongst all the back to back existential crises

Still

 It took the Barren 16 days to clear the virus....16 days of sleeping on a couch for me, 16 days of fretting and worrying, but we got through it and he even had a consult with a doctor about removing his gall bladder and in the end decided to keep it for now.

Meanwhile my parents have refused any and all assistance my brother or I offer to them directly. I say this because I still book and confirm all my fathers appointments "behind the scenes", so he is prepared for each appointment. He has started seeing a psychologist,  and my mother has pinned floppy hopes that it will "help him". I have become far more jaded and based on what he has refused to do ANY homework/self-work for all his occupational, speech and physical therapies...I would be VERY surprised if he creates the opportunity for himself to grow...but I would love to be surprised.

My relationship with my parents has been altered in a significant way. In fact I described it to The Barren the other day like this: it is like I have lost both my parents, but they are still here and I am left watching it all disappear each day in a new way. Like an extended period of grief and mourning. It breaks my heart in new and different ways every time I call them. 

Yesterday I acted impulsively and decided to drive the 40 minutes to their place and offer a CPAP pillow I had sourced for my father thinking that it might make it more comfortable for him and then he would wear his CPAP longer than just a couple hours a night. I hadn't seen my parents in well over a month and when I arrived and knocked on the door; it swung open with great force and my father was standing there, without a cane or walker hunched over and glaring at me. Then said hello, looked at the pillow in my hand and said what brings you here? I said I had gotten this for you to try...I was..., before I could even finish my short sentence he responded...NO, DON'T NEED IT. (he said these words in a short, loud and stern way) I started to show him the features of the pillow and again he said "no, I will not use it. Thanks though" and that was that. Like we didn't say much else after that.

My mother, peeped around the corner, said it looked like a comfortable pillow and that she was sorry he turned it down. I was interrupting their dinner that my father was microwaving. I had not even entered the house yet... I was standing on the front porch still...

I left them to their dinner and got back into my car....I felt so much. I felt so...I was glad I had invested so much in my fathers recovery, but it was like a neon sign that I was far more invested in his recovery than anyone else. That is where I am trying to heal from right now.

When The Barren asked how the visit went I said "Abruptly" 

I am struggling to get past all the trauma of the past three months. It has left me numb and uninspired and fumbling to find myself again. I have developed a new side effect, I am not sure if it is from the new infusion medication or stress but I am now learning about Burning Mouth Syndrome. 

I feel like I am falling apart; all my seams have come undone and I do my best daily to wake up and focus on anything other than everything else. My therapist use to refer to it as the " chop wood carry water" of life. Picking yourself up and doing tasks in an effort to keep moving and giving yourself time to do everything else that needs to be done so you have space to work on yourself and your thoughts.

The Barren is at his annual music week away for the summer and is having an amazing time. I am so excited he has this time. He is with his bestie and they are learning all sorts of new techniques and music theory from the best of the best. I literally could not be happier or more proud of him for taking this time for himself.

I am home solo trying to pretend I am at an artist residency....and make something. 

I have put film into several cameras and have shot some images...I have made some green developers and I hope to see if the pinhole photos I took today created any images. I have been feeding myself clean food, I have participated in a community garage sale, but only for an hour and a half, as the people who started coming freaked me out...hahah I have been writing down ideas and contemplating new materials. I am catching up on admin work for my website, etsy shop and wrote a newsletter announcing what the latest was.

I guess the whole reason for this post is that I am still here. 

I still have not gotten the virus, I still mask in most public spaces, even with glares. I am still waking up with a smile each day, even when my whole world is tilted and new things seem to gather around the edges. I still have a sense of hope that one day I will be able to travel again and feel lighter in mind and mood.

I do hope that if you got to the end of this post that you are doing alright, holding on to the edge of your day...finding something sparkling in it....because that little bright thing is meant for your to notice and hold.

Fear and sadness

***trigger warning-FEAR HATE****

Stream of consciousness writing

I am trying really hard to keep my shit together. I feel like it is harder than normal.

I am shocked and terrified, these are the closest words to wrap around the unthinkable... by what has happened in Israel...and the response that will continue to punish the innocent people of Palestine.

I ingested too much news, a thing I haven't done since the election.

I can't read accounts, I am dizzy and sick to my stomach and scared...I haven't been scared in a long time about being Jewish. The anti-Semitic chants, and behavior and actions and silence in the face of it all is a lot to try and process.  

I used to have nightmares on the regular as a teenager of SS soldiers busting down my bedroom door while I slept, while I hid, while I shook...I'd awake in a sweat and was too afraid to share what haunted me. Maybe it was generational trauma...but it changed me. 

I have that same fear today, I read something about a day of death to all Jews tomorrow. I told The Barren that I am frightened and that our door is marked so we are extra easy to find. I sound insane, but it is a real fear...

I have my first real artist talk in a major city Saturday, and I am trying to prepare for it, but I am frightened...I want to be professional and brush aside fear, so I am writing here in hopes to unload some thoughts and clear my mind to think more clearly.

I feel lost, and confused and scared and unsettled.

I went through my jewelry this morning and found my childhood star of David, I used to wear it a lot when I was younger until I got comments and questions about my Jewishness. I am far from a practicing Jew, but have always been proud and aware of my Jewishness and how complex that was.

Today while making a medical appointment, the person asked where I was from to have such an unusual name...I said Eastern Europe. It hit hard.

Today I am simply a human, a person trying to make sense of the upcoming senseless killing, the senseless hate, the senseless pain for so many people.

I have woken up multiple times this week and looked at the outside of my building fearing there would be hate graffiti on it...it makes me feel insane...it is like all my hairs are on end...

Real estate

 

© The Barreness
A crowd gathered around my work on display

There is nothing to complain about...

Isn't amazing how the one bad thing can ruin the month of good things. It frustrates me, as it gets too much real estate in my mind and then I have to spend so much energy trying to not let it have so much space. It is exhausting.

My work has received so many kind, generous words. Unprompted from strangers and friends alike. 

Many of which as surprised by my capabilities, or creativity.

I spend three hours answering questions, and repeating information to visitors during the artists reception. I wore a mask and only got guff from one visitor, to which I responded that I wanted to remain healthy after the evening was over (it was a man, and a figure model at that...)

I was hoarse and overstimulated when the night was over, I spent the following day quiet and writing thank you notes to all who came out the night before.

A success in many ways. My art sold, I was the first sale of the show, and remain to the most sold artist in the exhibition so far. I am hoping that a review will be made my the local paper...I have learned how to make reels of my images on social media. I have been publishing new bits about the work online on a regular basis to keep people engaged and interested in the work...I am soaring with humble pride from months of focused work and it landing well. 

The night of the artists reception, I was chatting with a well known painter, and she looked at me in my shimmer and pride and said: " well, how are you going to top this?!" It landed like a javelin, I feared that question. I feared I would have to face my next step instead of enjoying where I had landed....I just smiled and said, I am brainstorming that now.

Two days later I submitted the work to a magazine for hopeful publication, a hope to continue to move the images forward...and this morning (weeks later) I was awoken to a little ping of an incoming email. It was a rejection notice. I stayed in bed longer than normal, feeling the weight of my failure.

I should be happy...and in many ways I am. I am still very proud of the work and hopeful it will grant me more opportunities but in many ways I can't sit and enjoy the moment; I need to think of new things to do, places to email, exhibitions to apply to...it is a frantic pace. I often feel as though, I am in the slow lane of the freeway trying to not get hit by passing cars.

It is exhausting.

So it came as no surprise, that I caught The Barrens cold on the return from his business trip. I nursed him for a week, thinking I was safer than safe...I wiped every surface, wouldn't let him in the kitchen, washed all the blankets...but still I got it. I managed to keep it at bay until after receiving my infusion...and then I crashed. My first cold in over three years! The Barren was stressed from his cold and travel, so I needed to fend for myself and I did my best to not be grumpy or ask for anything while I nursed myself back. Last night was the first real night back to a more normal sense of things...and I am back into the rapids, the fast lane on the freeway, the craziness that is normal for me.

So I am like a surfer, riding waves of joy and sadness. 

Thankful in many ways for it all

Myopic

 

I made the mistake of leaving this at the thrift store.

I thrift. I have been a thrift store shopper since High School. 

One of my recent goals is to not buy new clothes, but to thrift as much as I can. 

Fast Fashion/ Clothing is a large polluter so this seemed like an easy life shift.

I thrift shop for The Barren too, as he is in between sizes now and it is cheaper than buying new clothes.

He is cool enough about it.

I was going through the racks and came on this, I even stopped and took a photo of it, 

then put it back on the rack and continued my myopic search of particular sizes...

When I got home I did a quick search and then put my palm to head and just about cried.

this $8 shirt can get up to $200 on the used market!

I am finding that my sights are set to a myopic level as of late.

I am having a hard time seeing past the present, and although my meditation teacher would be glad to hear that, it is not really a good way to view a career or a way to set long term goals.

I am trying to set goals again, as I tend to respond well to them.

I have been rejected from EVERYTHING I have applied to this year...

the streak remains, and the most recent rejection hit hard...harder than I thought it would.

I have enrolled in remote classes to learn new techniques/processes 

and take free courses when and where I can.

I have signed up for free courses offered to artists to refine and update skills.

 My last two pursuits turned out to be much like a timeshare talk...

I lost a couple hours of time and was fed a sales pitch with pressure to buy into a program.

I was more disappointed in myself for not seeing it sooner:

The first was to "teach" you how to successfully apply to residencies. Artists residencies are spaces offered to make work uninterrupted, all require detailed applications and essays. 

The course was supposed to help you refine your documents and increase your chances of acceptance. 

The presenter, spoke slowly for an hour plus on how great all her residences were and what kind of perks, amenities and processes were involved. Some she paid large sums of money to attend and others were juried and she paid less for. 

The people attending were all rejected for all of the ones they had applied to and the lecturers words of advice was: keep applying, keep paying the application fees, and increase the number you are applying to.

I was beyond frustrated and I don't think I was the only one who felt cheated of the time.

The "low cost" ones recommended were a minimum of 3K at reduced rates, plus travel and art supply costs. 

Frustrated, I finally asked:

" being an artist with an inconsistent income, what advice do you have to applying as often as you are recommending?"

The response was: "don't apply to as many"

SIGH

My second attempt was an one hour talk about how to land more shows.

 An artist coach was leading the conversation. Pre-prepared lecture notes were sent ahead of the talk; and once logged in, I was greeted with a pre-recorded talk that ended up being a sales pitch

(see the actual screen shots above)

SIGH

I have had some success, as I took a couple photo classes via zoom and have had fun with the new techniques...but boy oh boy...the admin stuff have been total flops!

It has left me feeling quite defeated and sorry for myself.

Here I am trying to pull myself up from my bootstraps and I just feel fed to the lions of consumerism.

Mind you, I am trying to play in the deep end of the pool, and I am trying to update skills so that I am more consumable...

I was also supposed to be in an academic book about infertility, two of my artworks were selected, this has been in the works for over a year...and the authors are in the home stretch...and sent out forms from the publisher for all the contributors to sign. I read them over, and then had The Barren read them, and then a friend read them because....in them the publisher wanted all rights to the work for all eternity!

So I had to send a letter saying I needed to be removed from the upcoming publication, as I was not ready to hand over all my rights.

(it felt really horrible, especially after Roe v Wade)

My bestie was in town for a couple days, and it was nice to have tea with her before she returned home. We talked about everything including our aging parents. I told her how I feel pushed away by mine. My daily calls are now twice a week and they only talk about my brother when I call. I offer time and cooking and I am turned down. I told her how I've changed my tone, theme, and frequency of conversations...all in an effort to connect more, but nothing seems to work. So I am confused and hurt.

She understood and we both know that the moment anything goes amuck, we both just jump into gear to fix things...zero hesitation. In the meantime, her mother eats food that is mis-delivered to her home, and my parents have long talks with phone solicitors and send group texts of puppy photos.

So this little engine is feeling pretty low, and lost and sad.

But I am trying to see past that...ideally my myopic vision will turn into something else soon.

Until then, I'll just keep my eyes on the railroad line.

Another year-less hair

 

This was that moment when things got …

weird, and downright surreal.

******

We went to The Barren's moms place for a meal for his birthday. We brought lunch and we sat in the backyard, at a table, 6ish feet from each other with our double masks on. 

His mom and her longtime partner have both gotten the first dose of the vaccine, and were a bit more caviler about keeping their masks on the whole time...but thankfully, I am TOTALLY OCD about it and kept mine on which rubbed off on The Barren too and we were safer that way.

I have been giving a gift to his mom for decades on his birthday, a thank you for making the man I love. I call it her birthing day gift. It is usually something small, a token trinket. Mostly just acknowledging her part in the day. She has grown to love it and expect something. (I am totally fine with that!) There are FAR worse things a MIL can expect from her DIL. 

After the meal these two jars were placed on the table, and The Barren was told to pick which ever one he wanted...it was part of his bday gift. My MIL and FIL have begun to grow their own. They were crazy conservative about drugs in the past and this overt, boldness takes a moment or two to adjust to.

They are both engineers by trade and so they are trying to crack the code of dosing edibles and those stories are quite funny. They are trying to make a brownie that is big enough to satisfy their chocolate craving but also not make them so shitfaced that they spend the rest of the day facedown in the couch.

Since cannabis has become legal, it has been a funny transition in our social groups. The parents, who were all hippies, but really pushed hard against their kids using drugs in college are now asking advise about strains and doses. While all us normal stoners, are kind of gobsmacked at their enthusiasm, after receiving so much shit from them for too long.

After the strangeness of the canning jar of pot, the conversation was all about how protected they are now that they have the vaccine. I couldn't help but feel like I was reliving a conversation with a former lover about how he shouldn't have to wear a condom because I was on birth control....maybe it was my own  mindset, but things felt strange and almost funny.

These days things seem off center, tilted and lit strangely.

It feels like I am floating through most days and the repetition of actions is feeling like a movie scene replaying over and over. I wake up, pee and get into yoga clothes, check email for work and personal tasks, then do exercise and then errands, then eat something, try brainstorming, do laundry, do more wall gazing then try and think what to make for dinner and watch tv and clean up dishes, take a bath or shower, maybe have sex and then go to sleep and do it all over again.

What kind of life is it that we are living these days?

Maybe that is why these encounters with backyards and parents is so surreal. Life is downright surreal.

I got my parents appointments to get the vaccine this week, it felt like I had just scored the best concert tickets ever....they were thankful and then my mother said she wanted a different vaccine than what she was scheduled to get. We looked up the data and then I had another half hour call with her explaining how the vaccine works, the effectiveness of this one she is supposed to get and how she might not even have access to the single dose vaccine. It was stressful.

I am stressed out by my parents recently. My shifting role with them and what that looks like. In that daily routine, I would say a good few hours are covered in stress with my parents activities and making sure they are safe and have food in the house and that people are not taking advantage of them. 

(ex: installed solar panels have created leaks in the roof, and the solar company offered them a flat fee to fix it, instead of fix it for them!)

*Sigh*

I am tired, and melancholy and am trying to see a light at the end of this all...

but it is hard.

I daydream of running away, and into the big memories of travels and sunlit days of the past. Laughing more and feeling alive...my actual dreams are dark and sad and scary and i am often left wondering how long it will take to shift into a new direction? 

anyone else feel this fatigue? This shift/tilt of life?

Gone

*** trigger warning, a post about grief and loss ***

 

We held him as he fell into his final sleep. 

17years and 2months after bringing him home; my constant companion for all those years. 

I made choices over these past years to not travel on business trips or even multiple days away, as he got stressed out and I would be distracted by not seeing he was okay.

As he aged I was his primary caretaker and huge portions of my day were spent checking on him, and making sure all his needs were addressed before he knew he needed them. It was something I didn't even think about as the days ran on. He loved me and I loved him.

He was my friend, my confidant and a true companion.

Quarantine made our time together more structured and we napped at or around 1:30pm almost daily together, as I sleep lightly at night, it was an easy way to give him attention and get some soothing from him for my anxiety and sorrow. 

Around mid October, something happened. The Barren and I were chatting and he let out a strange meow, which had us rushing to him. He lost all mobility in his legs, leaving him unable to stand or sit. we took him onto the patio and spoke to him as he looked confused and tired. Our daily hummingbird looked on at him and the scene unfolding. Xander tried to stand and walk indoors and I supported him and took him into my studio where he laid on a pillow on the floor and settled into what we thought was going to be his final moments. Over the next three hours he regained the use of his legs and was able to walk again and eat. I laid awake most of that night checking on him and soothing him through two more mini episodes. I asked The Barren if all my hair had turned white from the shock.

As the next days past, we was totally self propelled....but I started noticing he was more and more tired.

His breathing became more and more labored, he needed to take a break walking down the hallway. He got winded turning around in the seat. He drank less and ate less...the time had come.

A lovely vet came to our home and with one looked said she understood why we called her.

While they prepared his sleeping medicine, he got up from his patio chair, walked into the house, greeted them and then motioned to be picked up. The Barren held him, then handed him to me. I walked back outside and sat with him. The hummingbird returned and sat on the leaf above his feeder and watched.

Xander got a sleeping medicine shot and then the euthanasia shot. He fell into a slow sleep, hearing my heartbeat and his head being covered in kisses.

Simply put, this cat was magic, as I am sure most peoples companions are to them...how lucky we are to be able to walk with them. How lucky I was to give him dignity and a peaceful death.

I sat in the chair the next morning, crying and mourning. The hummingbird arrived and sat on his leaf. He looked at me, then the door and the deck and the chair, waiting and searching for Xander. I watched this for 15minutes...and wondered how do you console a hummingbird?!

Xander's ashes were returned two days later, and we built our annual Dia de los Muertos altar.

The silence in the house is deafening, and maybe that is why I can hear the hissing in my ears so well these days. Today marks one week since he left and I still awake in the middle of the night looking for his fur to pat, peek into rooms to see if he is sleeping quietly...We are donating his food, new cat toys and some cat beds to the rescue we got him from.

The hummingbird comes and sits on his leaf daily still, singing and watching me as I sit in the chair Xander use to sun in and that he took his final breath in. I talk to the hummingbird and thank them for their songs and tell them what a good friend he was to keep Xander company on the patio while he slept and sunned himself in his final months.

Although I have yet to take a nap since he passed, I know that I will eventually...maybe he will come to me in my dreams while I doze and think of him.

**you can hear the hummingbird chirp as he arrives off camera

One on One time

It seems to have become an annual event.

Every July we get some serious one-on-one time with our closest nephew.

Closest, meaning proximity.

*(there are two other nephews, but their parents and years of no responses to requests or cards...has created a distance in what we had hoped to be a relationship with them.)

ANYWAYS.....

this year was the longest amount of time with our nephew, he was at our place for three nights.

He is 11 and totally into Manga comics and video games and cartoons and KITTENS

Our old man cat wanted nothing to do with his attempts at snuggles or pats...

he chose to spend his time curled under my desk sleeping on the power strip and sulking

 at HIS unwanted company. 

So I suggested that we go to the Humane Society and check out kittens.

I am not sure I totally thought the idea through when it came to my own mental health about seeing touching or interacting with kittens....

I am still quite broken from the loss of our kitty back in February and now the aging cat at home...

I am dealing with a lot of mortality in felines.

We went for half an hour on the first visit because we were meeting Uncle for lunch and and needed to pick up food before seeing him....I thought it would be and easy in and out...

It was easy to get in and out...but I was very standoff-ish with all kitties.

The following day he mentioned he wanted to go back and visit them again....

I figured it would be fine and it took a chunk of time of the day and it made him happy.

We returned and there were twice as many kittens and cats...

9week old kittens, to mature cats...

he wanted to snuggle them all...it made him so happy and smile so big...

I watched him, and offered help when claws were too sharp or wiggles too strong.

This sweet little kitty is the one that made me cry.

As I was handed this kitten, so he could play with another eager soul...

I held it close to my chest and it melted into purrs and I turned away from my nephew...

tears welling in my eyes, feeling the soft fur and rumbles of the purr against my chest.

Before the tears could fall, I told him that my heart hurt and that we should move on to the older cats...or dogs.

He was a little confused but was willing to move onto the next room.

The second visit was all about making sure to see and say hello to every kitten and cat, and then hello to every dog. That sweet little boy even sat with a dog that had a "I'm shy" sign on her kennel for almost a half an hour to make her feel better.

When the time came to leave, he said goodbye to every dog, cat and kitten.

and told me that he felt badly that he could not take them home.

I assured him that what he was feeling was empathy and compassion and that those are really wonderful emotions and that means that you are a loving person and capable of loving other beings.

The next morning I saw that one the kittens he was crazy about was adopted, and shared the news with him, his smile was huge...and he said- that is so great!

He is still to young to volunteer without and adult....but I mentioned it to him and his parents.

I spent three days, all day with my nephew...in the evenings The Barren made sure I took some quiet time for myself before bed.

I was exhausted, the nephew would have active dreams at night and call out waking The Barren and myself. He was fighting with his sisters in his dreams...having things taken by them. He remembers none of the dreams and awoke each morning happy and ready to be entertained.

I loved the time, and tried really hard to give him loads of space and time to just be.

Pool time, puzzle time, reading time, park time, making cookies, we even watched surfers and he declared he wanted to do that too.

I listened to exaggerated stories and claims, I sat and watched cartoons and simply soaked him in.

I introduced him to Bob Marley music and we sang along to Queen songs.

I do hope that he remembers being able to just be himself when he is with us.

I really love being his Auntie

The Letter

"Yoga Goddess, 

I have debated reaching out...but felt it was important for you to know that you have a secret ally in your corner.

I am sorry life is sucking so very badly...

This is not the way you imagined....anything.

I can not imagine what you are going through, but I can empathize as we spent nearly a decade trying to build a family.

When we were trying there was not a lot of resources and still a lot of stigma.

I found this site very helpful for resources and knowledge:

she has organized everything (left side) under topics and it might help in some way.

https://www.stirrup-queens.com

Please forgive me if I have overstepped or made you feel like you haven't thought of this yourself.

I am happy to answer any questions you might have or 

help in anyway you might find you are in need of.

I continue to be a dedicated yogi, and friendly face in the crowd.

Smiles and hopes,

The Barreness "

I was haunted with words of advice for the owner of the studio I practice at when:

 she made the start of her IVF journey public knowledge. 

Then came the public spreadsheet of drug costs 

and 

then came the crowd funding page set up by a friend. 

I was going to tell her that pain does not equate your desire to be a mother.

That simply putting the desire out was enough 

but then I realized that she is most likely getting an earful...so I sent the email above.

She responded soon there after, kindly:

"Thank you so much Barreness this means a lot to me!

I’m proud of you for reaching out, and so happy you did. 

I will definitely check out the site you sent over. 

Love you tons!

Xoxo

Yoga Goddess"

At the end of the day I saw it as a call to action.

It was more important to reach out to a fellow woman in need than

sit and watch how this all unfolded...

Mouth guard

shirt credit

With the combination of the election and the fire and mudslide

I was fitted with a mouth guard that I wear at night

because I am grinding my teeth at night.

So badly, I chipped a tooth.

I have been wearing it every night, but have made a point 

as of late, to wear it even more 

religiously.

I am furious, I can feel it in every bone and oozing from every pore.

I have never been so ashamed to be an american.

The amount of sexism, racism, xenophobia, and blatant hate is inexcusable!

The government in place is a total embarrassment.

The old white men have had too much power and all this bullshit

has carried over into what might be a liar elected into the SCOTUS.

I watched Dr. Ford give her testimony, and I watched Brett cry and scream his.

I watched too much....

I have since turned off the news 100%

I vote and thankfully am in a state where my representatives feel the same way I do about 

Brett and women'r rights, health and immigration and take the time to answer the phones when I call in and thank them for supporting or voting against things that are brought up. 

I have had emails answered and these women do not run away from their constituents

they listen and respond.

Like responsible representatives.

That being said

after watching Dr.Ford, I experienced for the first time a true whole body trigger.

I remembered my assaults with great details.

I told The Barren for the first time, in our 26 years together, 

about the first one when I was about 8 years old.

Only my parents and my therapist(who was treating my grief from infertility) know about it, 

and they never mention it.

My father told me( at 8 years old) after hearing and seeing who did it that 

" I had an active imagination, and that this never happened"

So I buried it deep

Angry and confused as to why he chose to not believe me

I also told The Barren about another one that happened 

when I was a teenager, that no one knew about...

except me and the people involved.

He was deeply shook, and super supportive about being brave enough to tell him.

He knows about my sexual harassment incidents

 from workplaces that have happened since...

Dr.Ford made me remember

She made me strong enough to share my story 

she reminded me that these situations are not me, I am stronger and bigger than them.

They are nothing to be ashamed of

and nothing I did and nothing I need to carry responsibility for 

I think I will keep wearing my pride 

and wearing my mouth guard until this world is turned right side up again.

the future is female

Triggered

" I can not imagine what these people are going through. 

It is mostly the packers on the floor, almost all women"

A dear friend has organized a shipment to her company's packing plant just outside Houston.

She put a call out for supplies and she would ship them tomorrow.

So a bunch of us have gathered things and

 have been dropping them off at her door, since last night.

I went out this morning and got two huge bags of supplies.

Soap, toothbrushes, toothpaste, pads, baby wipes, dog leashes and harnesses, and socks.

I felt a deep trigger when I grabbed multiple packs of little kid and baby socks.

I almost didn't include them but then let the sorrow wash over me and went deeper and 

thought of the parents that just want dry socks on their kids feet.

Natural disasters like the ones we are experiencing are hard to process.

They leave us feeling so fragile and helpless.

I made a donation to a local animal shelter too...so many animals have been impacted too!

Then there is the flooding in India and Nepal and I am lost again.

I sent a text to The Barren:

" I feel so emotionally spent, I need to calm down and focus "

So, I came here.

I feel like a puddle of myself.

How do you process so much grief around you and inside yourself as well?

Cycles

The proceeds from this t-shirt help provide menstrual hygiene kits to people experiencing homelessness

I only get my period four times a year now.

It is part of the agreed plan to control my endometriosis, fibroids and cysts. 

It has been working well, and retarding growth on the current fibroids and any creation of new ones.

It has also allowed me to keep my uterus instead of having the suggested hysterectomy.

At first I thought it was like being neutered; taking away something so sacred as a monthly cycle.  The monthly pain left me unable to stand upright, or eat or sleep, so the idea became a welcome retreat from pain and in many ways a space to grieve my lost fertility.

I had to walk away from my efforts twice in 8 years of trying to make a family. 

When I first went off the monthly pill to dive into the pool of trying, I was almost immediately faced with a wall of pain and only after half a year was I able to advocate for further testing which first revealed my fibroids and the sudden growth had me at an oncologist. 

Back on the pill to shrink them and try to give me a window to try to get pregnant again.

The second dive into the pool had me in the ER and multiple trips to the doctor to find answers to the miscarriages. Suddenly 8 years passed and it was too much loss and too much pain to live.

I went back onto the pill after my removal of a large chocolate cyst, and an ovarian cancer scare;

that confirmed my stage 4 endo that had head-locked my ovary behind my uterus, a septum in my uterus and calcified fibroids.

The road was shut.

I grieved and celebrated this information at the same time.

I did nothing wrong in my efforts to get pregnant, but my body that I had lovingly cared, for had decided that no child shall survive in me.

Now 5 years later, I am facing a new kind of knowledge.

My periods which only come quarterly,  will eventually stop coming all together.

I am prepared to grieve that as well.

a bitter sweet party

I have my period now, I have always been a full moon bleeder.

I guess I am a druid that way, an earthy girl, a wolf woman.

I can now not have to decide if the pain is bad enough to need to go to the ER, 

instead I can sit on the couch or sleep away the mood and aches.

Still honoring the need to take care of this body.

My period arrived later than normal this cycle, and for the first time in a LONG time, 

my mind did not go to the "maybe I'm pregnant" thought...

in fact it never even entered my mind.

Instead I thought, soon there will be no more.

Putting feet where my heart is

I have become an voice in the fight

I am making choices everyday to speak up, regardless of my fears.

I am actively choosing to attend marches and sign petitions and make calls.

I was quite overwhelmed for a couple weeks, 

slipping into the door of depression for a time and again.

I felt the weight of my white privilege and 

the responsibly to make sure others acknowledged theirs.

I felt angry and heartbroken at family that said they loved me and the world around them,

 but then stood in support of Lord Marmalade and his racist, sexist and xenophobic choices.

I have made the choice to be a voice, 

I am fighting the BIG fight, looking at the BIG picture.

I am thinking about the generations after me, 

I am trying to secure the rights and safety.

I am learning and growing.

I find being infertile in this struggle has given me a unique voice

in this conversation. 

For that I am thankful.

Anniversary-many years later

It is the anniversary of my 1st of three miscarriages on tomorrow

and then 

It is our wedding anniversary on Tuesday

We will be celebrating 24years together and 14years married. 

In the meantime I am quiet...I feel kind of sideswiped/wounded.
I woke up feeling okay,
started about my day, but something feels off.

Muscle memory maybe?

My heart has been beating along as normal.
but there is a heaviness.

As of late, I have been referring to our never to be child as our star child.
Made of love and stardust.
It is in an effort to include them as a element into our living lives,
but understand that they are not physically here,
but still able to be seen and felt deeply.
The Barren seems to be okay with this new development.
I think this is me hoping it is another step towards feeling alright.

I am set to work a photo-shoot tomorrow, doing a family shoot for a friend with a toddler.
The one who named her child the name we had secretly picked for our own child.

I assume after the job is done, I will need a nap or a drink or both wrapped in a cuddle.

Even after all these years, I still feel it so deeply.
but....
One thing I do differently, is that I give myself space now to feel it.
Feel all of it, deep and dark and big and bright.

That is the reminder of stardust.

Time marches on

Source

Ducklings in paper dresses....lets start here.

Okay

I have been wanting to write here.

I just got back from a weekend visit with my bestie.

We live several hundred miles apart and so visiting often is quite involved.

This time, we made arrangements a month+ ahead of time 

and I got an AirBnB 

and had The Barren take an extra day off to recover from the travel time.

When we arrived we hit the ground running.

My bestie talked my ear off <3 p="">

She was sooooooooo excited to see me that she just kept talking and talking and talking....

It was great and exhausting.

I ate like a queen, 

and covered The Barren in kisses of appreciation 

for making and supporting the time away.

The Barren was recovering/processing of sorts, 

from a sudden and unexpected death of a coworker.
This time together was needed.

We spent the time away talking and being quiet and just being.

Bestie has a child, who we are close with and who is the most well adjusted 

young person I have ever known.

He is an only child and has been treated as a human from day one 

and it is reflected in his mood and demeanor.

The Barren and I are listed as caregivers should something horrible happen to his parents.

He was able to choose, and we were happy to be those people for him.

So it is all legal and stuff...

He is growing up fast and has landed firmly into tweenhood

Time marches on

I got this photo in my email today:

"do you recognize the blanket"

I made that blanket for her older brother as a baby shower gift.

It was a reminder of how far down this road I have traveled.

How long ago I was making blankets for friends babies, and wishing for my own.

Like a moving meditation, make a blanket, earn more points to me getting a baby of my own.

The above child was conceived while I was having miscarriages and I threw her mother a shower, thinking I could still do it all. 

Once this little lady was born, I told her mom (who I've known since we were 14yrs old)

that I could not be what she needed of me...

she has respected that and we send hellos every once in a while.

Time marches on

Then today I also got an email asking if someone could use an image from my Infertility Art Exhibition....this exhibition was 6 years ago and I am still getting requests for image use.

AMAZING

time marches on

Here I am three weeks away from my first miscarriage anniversary and I am getting reminders of how long ago we left the path for parenthood but also how far we have traveled.
Time marches on

The dreams continue....

I am still being submerged in dreams of my child that never came to be...

I saw this and it made me weep and be thankful that I am able to watch this
and keep my chin high
and my heart open
to still thinking about a child that I never got to hold...
and still thinking about what I desired for them

I have grown stronger 

Things I can do

So I have been busy with my personal self created to-do lists. 

Top on that list was (see I did it) updating my personal artist website.

My old website was managed and maintained by a friend...and by friend I mean ex-boyfriend.

I maintain a relationship with my ex, it has been over 25 years now.

The Barren has zero issue with this, and I am beyond thankful that one of the many fine qualities is that he understands that people mean something to me, and that my past comes with me.

 So having a relationship with my ex totally makes sense to him and he respects that.

We (ex and I) decided long ago that we could not throw away all the time we had spent together,
 so we would stay friends, plus it was the adult thing to do. 

I know that this is quite unique and makes some people very uncomfortable...but that is just a fact.

He decided to sleep with someone else, so I left him (had to get a jab in there somewhere)

 I met The Barren about 6months there after.

I am not going to say that we had a perfect relationship, or that this friendship has not be hard at times, but we both feel it is worth maintaining it.

We were young and said hurtful things, I lost myself in the process. Some of what was done/said has taken a long time to grow past or let go of...but time marched on and we seem to always go to one another for some sense of support or creative guidance.

His partner (the same one he was with when we were together) had a hard time getting on board with it, but has come to understand that this friendship is not going anywhere 

and it is not a threat to them or her.

Over the years the ex has helped me make creative decisions, and is a good editor and creative sounding board and reference guide. We help each other out with creative things as we seem to understand each other that way still.

I had been wrestling with website design options and he stepped in and researched all the pros and cons of each, helping me see the highlights of them. I get overwhelmed with minute details and he helped clear that up.

We had decided to met face to face to discuss the final player/options and styles etc...at a coffeehouse he'd never been to before...I had been emailing and texting with him constantly but had not seen him face to face in over two years! 

When the time came for us to meet, he was no where to be found...

I could feel my heart pounding and all these feeling from when I was a teenager came back...

he is blowing me off

he "forgot"

his partner had a tantrum and he is not coming

I texted The Barren and asked how long to wait...he responded that the ex is notoriously late, and to give it a half an hour. I paced in my mind while trying to maintain my composure in my seat...slowly sipping tea. When the half hour mark arrived I slowly packed up my things and decided to walk around the block, thinking I'd catch him just arriving or check another nearby coffee house that maybe he was there instead.

Turns out that he was, at another location...the first one we talked about meeting at...but changed from that place to the new one.

When he saw me, he gave me a look that made me feel like a silly 19yr old again...he was disappointed, frustrated and convinced that I had gotten it all wrong.

I took a deep breath maintained a smile and said, "I'm glad we found each other."

He said he had looked into the coffee shop I was waiting in but, didn't dare enter it as he had never been there before. So he returned to the original local assuming I'd be there.

(I was sitting at a table that was blocked by a stone column so he could not see me from the outside).

We walked back to the coffee shop I had just left, in time for me to continue finishing my tea (they hadn't even cleared the cup and pot yet)

He sat down and we began to catch up a little. I mostly listened, he was nervous and it was awkward...needless to say we chatted and switched to a smaller table when we realized we didn't need a wall plug as originally thought.

 The morning sun was out and beaming me right in the eye and side of my face...making me sit back farther and farther..the ex noted that he could see the sun beaming me, but that he was in the shade and so didn't stop conversation, it did make me realize a simple and sweet thing about The Barren*

The talk of the website was minor, as I had most of my ideas clearly set and when I had had enough of the sun and the conversation had turned to filler I offered to drive him home, so he didn't have to walk back. We drove back to his place, I dropped him off at the curb and waved goodbye.

I then proceeded to go home, set up my account, and begin designing the new website.

In the last week it has formed into a completed vision, that I made all on my own.

The kick start was a rough one, mostly filled with self doubt over my abilities, 

but that turned out to be smoke and mirrors and trick doors.

I even designed a new name logo....

I sent a link to the ex last night declaring that it was live, and he responded that it looked great!

I was quite proud of myself.

I feel as though I am free from a shadow.

Like his control over my web presence is no longer over me...

I have taken back control over me again.

I doubted my abilities but I was wrong....

I can do it, and well at that!

*The Barren always makes sure I am out of the sun, if I was at this table with The Barren, we would have packed up and moved to another with no words or fuss...just a matter of fact and no pause in conversation.

It is amazing how things from many years ago can still feel so fresh and accessible in our hearts.  

The ex has never wished any ill will on me and always expressed his desire that nothing come in my way, so I continue to pursue my art...in fact when I told him I was getting married, he wanted to make sure that The Barren would never snuff out my artistic desires or freedom of motion.

Then declared he was off to join the French foreign legion...hahaha

When I told him I couldn't have kids, he sent a sweet note that it was super sad, and wished it would be different for us.

He broke my heart 25 years ago, but in the middle of it all I had the strength to march onward with my head held high and find myself again and the person I was meant to spend my lifetime with. 

I am thankful, he in turn found his life mate too.

We have grown since then, said a lot of "I didn't mean that" and versions of "I'm sorry" and can now joke about things...

at least I can, in fact I still refer to a painting he gave me when we broke up as
"what I got in the divorce settlement"

I can hold my head up high, feel smart and do things without hesitation.

I can do all these things!

Time passes

As time passes I am finding myself identifying less and less as an infertile woman 

and simply a woman without children. 

Maybe those words place less blame, or guilt. 

Maybe that is simply growing.

I have even considered unsubscribing from some websites and blogs that are in the middle of their discovery. Not because I do not want to offer support but simply because it is energy I have spent and can not afford to spend any longer.

I guess this time passing, has distanced me from the central heart of the pain.

The pain is no longer raw

The pain only appears in small short moments.

I am no longer consumed by the monster

The Barreness seems to have stopped poking me

at least that is how it feels right now.

I had a successful exhibition, in fact I sold one of my pieces before the show opened 

and the other on opening night!

I felt like I was floating on a lily-pad, afraid to move to quickly 

and fall into the cold murky pond.

But it was real, I really did it.

A fellow art friend told me I was no longer allowed to feel surprised by my art sales.

I had sold work every year from that show and it was time to get over it.

I smiled

 and then told The Barren, over sake shots after the event, that I liked 

life surprises, and that not feeling a bit of shock and disbelief seemed unnatural for me.

I deserve this success, and I deserve to feel proud

but I also can enjoy the surprise and glee associated with a sale.

We have been running non stop for most of this month already,

social commitments and events.

Now we are done, and just have the holidays to figure out.

We went to our last social commitment last night and it was hosted by a painter friend who has a big show opening in New York on Tuesday. She filled her home with friends and family for an annual get together. Since last years event, she has had a baby and so have many of her friends. In fact at one point, the house was filled with little kids and toddlers screaming, running and slamming doors while two very patient boston terriers watched and avoided them. I sat on the couch with three friends across from The Barren who was chatting with the spouses of the the friends and found myself unconcerned about the chaos.

In fact, totally unfazed.

I didn't need to find my kid, or ask the kids to stop....

not my monkeys, not my circus

As we were gathering up to leave I looked down to put on my coat 

and saw a little green chair, with a pair of little shoes in it.

it was sublime and sweet and 

The Barren and I both just exhaled and moved on to saying our goodbyes

It is moments like that, that I realize that time has passed.

The moments of a magical childhood for our never to be child have begun to age.

We are learning to live life again, be who are suppose to be after all that we have been 

and all that we can still be.