Your Body Hates Itself

 With my most recent visit to the ER, oh yes there has been another...

The Barren was away and so I took myself at 4:30am. As I sat on the ER bed, with multiple band aides from missed pokes for blood and IV, holding back tears from frustration and discomfort and trying my best to keep a brave face I texted my brother to let him know where I was.

He in turn came the distance and kept me company as I waited to find out what the newest test results were and to be happy to learn my appendix was still okay, but my Crohns was still busting my intestines up like a rock star in a hotel room.

When the doctor came into the room to explain that things were the same as my last hospital stay a month earlier, and they were increasing the steroids and I needed to contact my doctor about changing medications as my infusion drugs were not working.

My brother asked why this was happening? The doctor looked at me (like, you wanna tell him?) and then turned to my brother and said "her body hates her" Then smirked and said he was off to call in the new prescription. My brother was kind of shocked and then I explained how my autoimmune disease is attacking me and is being extra aggressive at it. With a better understanding he and I were discharged and he walked me to my car with the overnight bag I had packed just in case. I arrived home shortly after The Barren, who had driven 6 hours to get home to me. The next couple of weeks were filled with calls to insurance and pharmacies and now I am on a new drug. 

My bestie texted that she needed to see me and that she bought a ticket to see me. It made me cry and feel MASSIVELY touched, special and awkward about the attention...but I was looking forward to a mellow weekend with her.

It also just happened to correspond with me stopping the newest round of steroids while maintaining the new medication, another bump so to speak. The Barren was once again booked to be away for a week and I thought it a good idea to not be alone. She arrived on the afternoon after I awoke with mild discomfort...and as the weekend progressed I was more guarded with my abdomen. 

She had all the energy in the world! We went to as many thrift stores as we could handle and I barely ate or rested the whole visit. I had arranged for a massage for us both, something I try to do when we see each other (as it only happens a couple times a year) and I quickly realized that my abdomen was quite tender, so I could barely lay face down for mine.  I think I hid it well, she talked about how amazing hers was 💓 we ate afterwards and when we got home I told her I really needed to lay down. She snickered a little and then we said goodnight and as I was crawling into bed I could hear her snoring from the other room 😏

The next morning I made homemade waffles and we chatted a bit before I needed to shuttle her back to town...on the way she asked if we could hit a couple more thrift stores...which we did and I found a couple things and after dropping her off. I was glad to give her a vacation and she was quite relaxed when I drove her back, prepared to deal with her parents and the 6 hour drive home.

 I drove in total silence on the way home. 

I collapsed into a HOT bath and bed after feeding the cats. I was so touched she came to see me, it is rare we get that much time together anymore without partners injecting themselves into our activities or plans...she had a lot on her mind and we had space to talk it out. In the end, though...

I was left exhausted, in discomfort and spun.

I spent the following day in bed with a heating pad, when I woke up I considered calling my doctor who was on call all weekend, but I reminded myself that things were gonna be bumpy...I sat and spoke to the little scared girl in me. Spoke directly to my brain and we had a long conversation.

I moved slowly, put on a new pair of thrifted super soft, loose bright orange pants (like a traffic cone) and only left the house to water my garden and get some melon from the market.

This morning with the help of a heating pad I am feeling better, not perfect but better and I know tomorrow will be another step away from bad.

The fundraising art exhibition I worked hard to get into opens Thursday, so I am focusing on feeling good for that so I can stand and be social for hours! 

This disease has taken advantage of my good nature, my kind soft edges and run me over repeatedly. 

I am actively fighting the depression that accompanies pain.

I am trying hard to flip the script with my brain and focus on how hard my body is working, how thankful I am that my body keeps showing up for me. How strong it can be and how it is able to rest and heal.

I am not allowed to travel (according to my gut doctor) I am too fragile, and that hasn't sat well in my heart...but I understand it. So when The Barren takes a BIG international trip for work later this year, I will be at home...focusing on my stillness, healing and hope that the next one I will be holding his hand the whole time.

The Quiet

 It is quieter than normal today...

it is election day, the polls are open, the postcards have been sent, the calls have been made, the hopes are running at an all time high.

I, along with EVERYONE I know are waiting. Our stomachs are filled with acid, our nerves are burned, we are all exhausted, there is so much anxiety you can feel it in the air. 

My bestie and I exchanged texts this morning recounting what we are doing to pass time and not look at the news or think or hope. 

I woke up this morning, and before much thought, found myself doing 108 sun salutations trying to honor the energy I wanted to focus towards the day. Saying over and over President Harris.

I feel too many feels, thinking too many thoughts...

we wait

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.

Fatigue and the new year

Stream of conscience writing-and reflecting

I am here, still here.

Thankfully less frightened than my last post.

******below written at the end of last year******

I gave my artist talk and three people came; well three besides my DH and the social media person that was recording it for the guild.

There were marches all over the city that day, so it was a tough day to get around. The three who came were a guy I went to high school with and his daughter and a friend who were interested in art. It was a nice audience and made for an intimate experience for his daughter to learn about the art making practice.

I had too much chocolate and carbonated water, but it is better to be over prepared than under.

My hubby recorded the talk, as it was requested.

So far 10 people have watched it, and two told me they had a hard time hearing what I was saying.

So it was a learning lesson and an act of presence. 

I did enjoy the act, but the build up was A LOT.

Afterwards we went to a middle eastern restaurant,  and quickly realized we were a minority, as the place filled with protesters and we were watched quite closely the whole time. I think I asked hubby a couple times if food was on my face as I was getting so many stares.

It was tough, and heartbreaking and only a few days after the kidnapping and so my Jewishness was obvious to many.

I returned home to focus on my next task, make new work for my annual submission  for the next big event. No pressure, no stress....no terror.

Hubby got a cold, and I had had my infusion coming up so I slept on the couch for a couple nights so I would not get breathed on all night. I added it to my internal dialogue of "suffering artist" narrative in my mind and after several months of struggling, and working and crying and wanting to burn the whole place down...I created some new work.

It was the most challenging experience to date.

I submitted work a day before the deadline and walked away knowing that I had tried everything in my power and wheelhouse to create something new, unique and that I loved.

The Barren planned an anniversary getaway for us...and it was 10000000% needed and a complete surprise. We celebrated 21 years married and 31 together this year. We went to the desert and a very nice hotel...there was a soaking tub on our private patio where we took turns soaking by a fire, we got a massage and had a fancy dinner out. Mostly we got quiet, a reprieve from our own thoughts and reality.

*****

After the return from the desert, I was faced with another wall of stress...

which had me dealing with the logistics of switching pharmacies that 

 supply my infusion medicine. I spent a month trying to get one office to submit a signed document. The delay was so prolonged, it delayed my medicine for an additional 10 days, which doesn't sound like a lot until you factor in that I get this medicine monthly. I ended up going to the office personally, twice with a copy of the document, the line highlighted in hopes to get it resolved. The second trip was the keystone, and I broke down into a waterfall of tears when I had the signed/faxed document in my hands. 10 days after my medicine was due, I got a needle in my arm.

I was so absolutely spent from the process, I had broken down multiple times with people on the phone. I lost my shit, I apologized for it and then grabbed my bootstraps and took care of business.

I sat in disbelief for a couple days afterwards, not really saying anything and just staring into space.

The new year opened with a rescheduled MRI after The Barren had taken the day off to support me, and showing up at 7am to have it. Someone changed he date and location and neglected to inform me. I showed the front desk person the confirmation, but told them I understood that didn't change anything, so please just tell me where and when I am supposed to show up fasted and ready to drink insane amounts of contrast fluid. I go Tuesday now...3 weeks later.

The December art show was well attended and my work sold in the first two hours of the opening. Another of the works I had submitted for the show was selected for a separate exhibition which is open now. That was a lovely happy response to all the stress and sorrow of the prior month.

Now I am in a holding pattern again, trying to refill my energy reserves and start making work again. In the meantime, life has laughed at me over and over, delivering tasty tidbits of stress and worry. 

I start to wonder, is this what my 50's will be,? 

I know the world is an absolutely chaotic place and there is so much horrible outside my door; it sometimes feels like I am being a glutton for punishment when I wake up everyday...greeting the day and thinking of all the best for the time ahead....and even if I am beaten down over and over again, I still greet the next day with hope for something better. Does this qualify as insanity?

A woman I have meditated with for these past pandemic years just found out that she has breast cancer...and when she told me, I was numb. This woman is a peer, she adopted her kids, she is an artist and she had an ultrasound because she was told she had dense breasts and they found over half her breast had cancer growths in it. I was flattened by the similarities.

 I told her that I have been on infusion therapy for the last year and when I started I didn't want to be seen as a sick person. So, in an effort to not say "you are in my thoughts" I told her that I will focus on her making all the best choices for herself, and being given many options and strength to do what aligns best for her goals. I rethought about that encounter many times over, and feared that I had diminished her experience. 

I am finding myself at a loss for many of life's most difficult moments.

What is wrong with me?

Last moon cycle of the decade

I have had my final cycle in this decade...it was early and unremarkable.

 I am a full moon bleeder and thanks to my bestie for pointing it out, a gift from the Goddess!

I had a whole other perspective on it when she said that!

I like to mark time with connections and this December on the full moon I had my period for this last time this decade. that seemed magical or special in some way.

I had vivid dreams about lost loves and mazes...

I moved slowly through the air, and space.

I spent the beginning of November taking family photos for friends that wanted images in time for Christmas cards and kids graduation from school...four weekends of time...four different locations

two toddlers, two teenagers and four adults trying desperately to keep up appearances.

I had fun, but was exhausted

I in fact, was taking photos of the toddler with the name I had picked out for my never to be born baby...that was surreal to say their name so many times...but the more I said it, the less personal it felt. I could feel myself moving farther and farther away from the emotional connection to the name. For that I am thankful and proud 

that I am able to still grow in a healthy way around that hole of hope.

The Barren and I both got a violent stomach thing, that had us on what felt like deaths door...

but we stuck together and got better, 

and I really never want to make soup in the soup-pot I barfed into.

no matter how many times I bleach it.

I had a coffee date with my pelvic ultrasound tech; because although she has seen my vagina and we know each other in a vastly different way, we like each other and it seemed like a natural way to simply connect with another woman. I had a nice time and it was refreshing to have a coffee date and chat about trees and hobbies and giggle a little.

The final exhibition of the year has begun and the art was previewed online two days before the doors opened for the reception...one of my two pieces sold in the first two hours of the preview day! 

I am also the only person selected to have two pieces in the exhibition that is not represented by the gallery...and as thrilling as that is, it is also a lot of pressure to sell the two works and "earn my special place" in the show....so that is a little bit of a mixed bag....

I was invited by the curator, to join a group of fellow women artists ahead of reception for a cocktail and it was amazing! I had such a lovely time, once again hearing funny stories of past loves and wild times. I felt like a grown ass woman and not someone that was coddled or tiptoed around.

One of my longest art friends and painter who is loved locally, attended the cocktail party but not the reception because she did not want to answer the " how are you" question over and over again. She was recovering from major surgery to remove a tumor that was found in her lung. She was diagnosed with lung cancer. (crazy healthy person, non smoker, total surprise) ..and kept it all quiet (continues to) and was kind enough to share it with me before the cocktail hour. She was concerned about ruining my night...I thanked her for trusting me with this and I was thankful that she shared it with me. Her closest painting partner was a train-wreck, wanting to fix and help but being held at arms distance...so I gave her extra hugs and smiles and told her that I was strong enough to carry whatever she needed.

It has been quite a mixed bag as the year winds out, 

I am mostly thankful with moments of darkness...

I am aware of mortality more often than any other time in my life so far.

I am massively in love with my husband...

thankful for my bestie, and family (even though they drive me nuts)

It is my favorite time of year, 

as I rise before the sun and come home as it is setting...

so I get to enjoy the magic of those moments of life.

I was sent this photo the other day....

that brick wall is the wall, that will display three of my large artworks in the new (still to open) hotel

it gave me a little thrill...

and hope that I might be able to do that again!

*****

I hope that you all find a moment of hope, maybe even just for that day

or dream of a whole life with more hope and freedom from sadness

I wish cold nights lead to magical dreams and sweet slumber that soothes your soul

xo

The Barreness

Mind is a swirl

I have only really thought about what the biopsy was looking for a couple times

and when I dealt with the REALNESS of it, I became overwhelmed.

I felt a wave of love wash over me in yoga class, 

and became quite overwhelmed with the feeling that I actually cried.... 

I was quite sweaty and so it was not noticeable.

The waiting is indeed the hardest part.

I have spent time not thinking, meditating, doing busy work and trying to not focus on my normal catastrophic thinking that I go to almost automatically.

I have been talking myself off the ledge, but reminding myself that my doctor surgeries have been successful and that there is no reason why this will not result in another good experience and a negative- you don't have cancer result.

For not thinking about it, it sure sounds like I have been thinking about it.

Ideally I should hear something tomorrow....but until then I am off to make gingerbread nuts

hahah

nuts

this recipe:

GINGERBREAD SPICED NUTS

INGREDIENTS:

• 3 cups Nuts (I used 1 1/2 cups Walnut Halves and 1 1/2 cups Pecan Halves)
• 1/2 + 1/4 teaspoon cinnamon
• 1/2 + 1/4 teaspoon ground ginger
• 1/4 teaspoon ground all spice
• 1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg
• 1/4 teaspoon ground cloves
• 3 tablespoons brown sugar
• big pinch coarse salt
• 2 tablespoons coconut oil

DIRECTIONS:

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
2. Add nuts to a large mixing bowl.
3. In a small bowl, combine spices, sugar and coconut oil. Add to nuts and toss well until nuts are completely coated.
4. Bake in 350 degree oven for 10-12 minutes until fragrant. Let cool before serving.

You are a wreck

So I went to the endo doctor....

I had The Barren come with me, well, because it was a male doctor and as sexist as that sounds often times when I have visited a male doctor they talk down to me unless The Barren is present.

It sucks and is sad, but true.

So I brought back-up

Also, I had MASSIVE white coat and I wanted a second set of ears to hear what my brain dropped with its high screeching sound.

I was sweating and anxious and although my clots had stopped on Monday, I was still spotting.

The doctor came into the exam room like a cowboy on a bulldozer.

Sat down in front of me with my folder and said:

"You are peri-menopausal.

that is why you are bleeding like this."

"We've met before, but you were asleep" (creepy)

He assisted on my ovarian cystectomy and stage four endo confirmation.

" yep, you are total mess, everything is just all mucked up in there."

He was trying to make light of things I think...but it came across a little like a used car salesman

He told me that when I got tired of bleeding I should consider a D&C or Uterine Ablation or both.

But first, 

" We need to do an endometrial biopsy, to confirm that you don't have uterine cancer. I don't think you do, but it is important to confirm that.

I have my nurse practitioners do them because I don't like to hurt people and they hurt. Because I have never had any children, my cervical opening is small or totally closed and they might not be able to do the biopsy, so if that is the case then they would do it with a D&C""

I saw The Barren go pale when the doctor described the process 

and I think I left my body at that moment.

He suggested that I double up on my BC pill to up the hormone and if it works then we can switch to another pill and just take them back to back.

Oh, and you can only take the pill until you are 50 so you only have a little bit of time left on that.

then you are considered Menopausal and you shouldn't be on the pill anymore.

I told him I was most afraid of having to have a hysterectomy and he told me that he had ZERO desire to do one, that he doesn't even have it on the list of options....unless needed.like uterine cancer.

That was a relief among the land mines.

He also said that caffeine or alcohol are not triggers for endo and that I should be drinking champagne whenever I want and enjoying my cup of tea in the morning.

I left the office with a biopsy appointment, with a nurse practitioner that was versed in the procedure of difficult subjects, and the lady at the front desk said she would ask if a should take some kind of medicine ahead of the procedure to help make it easier for us both...but it wasn't an anti-anxiety drug.

I left the appointment feeling like I had been run over by a mack truck!

I was dizzy and shaking and confused and so very sad.

I spoke to a pharmacist yesterday that confirmed that doubling up on the BC pill was a good option and if the spotting stopped then get a new prescription with that dose and take three 28 day packs back to back. 28 day packs have a wider range of dosages of hormone than the 91day generics I take.

I started last night and aside from some nausea this morning, I feel pretty alright and the spotting seems to be stopping too! 

I did yoga yesterday and today...that helped A LOT.

I am scared of the biopsy, but keep trying to focus on it being a 10-15 minute 

procedure and that the pain will be temporary.

The Barren is taking me to and from the appointment that day.

I am so done with this bullshit

I am done with doctors

I am done with the sadness

I am done with painful procedures

I am done with feeling so overwhelmed

but something somewhere in me won't let me totally give up and give in

I still have some dim flame of hope that this will be it, the last of it for a long spell 

Day 24-The End

91% containment

Nothing will make you feel like more of an adult than dealing with an insurance adjuster. 

The saga has ended now...no more fire helicopters or sirens.

This transition has left me feeling like

I tripped and landed hard into this new reality, suddenly it is all over.

It felt similar when we realized that parenthood was not in our future or lives.

It was a bumpy transition and left me grumpy and relieved and confused.

We have a home, for that I am deeply grateful...and confused still as to how or why our home was spared...but it is time to remove the plastic from all the doors and windows.

The air purifiers are still running, I think now as a security blanket for us.

I finally put the items away that we had taken after coming back on the day after evacuation.

The forgotten precious things:

My wedding ring, a family painting from the 1800's...a photo of our wedding.

This whole process has been scary, humbling and enlightening.  

the hillside across the street as we were evacuating, left and right side obscured by trees
(taken while driving away from our home)

across the street-two days ago

Not only have we been dealing with constant fire and evacuation dreams (I figure this is happening because I was woken from slumber when we got the call to leave immediately)

but The Barren has gotten chest illnesses.

The Barren has been to the walk-in clinic two weekends in a row after since the fire started.

The first visit confirmed walking pneumonia and the second confirmed a secondary bronchial irritation from the smoke and particulates.

We had both been coughing and got stuffy noses after we left...and have been wearing particle masks by day three, but that was not enough to protect us from the constant rain of ash, dust and smoke...

so much smoke.

Now we are to adjust to this new reality.

700 homes lost in our town

so many people have been touched by this fire.

Everyone has a story of the night they had to leave.

I am most touched by the stories that keep coming to light, the good in this town...

the stuff that makes you cry from being so deeply touched in the heart:

* A call went out from a family who lost their home, that they wanted to bring their dog home from the animal evacuation shelter but the fence in the home they were staying in was a little wonky and they didn't have a hammer to fix it. There was someone at their door within ten minutes.

* The fact that donations and volunteers were asked to be halted as there was too much! They had all they could use and then some.

* The firefighters asking to stop giving them food and donations, they had too much

* The local man who didn't know what to do, so he made sifters for people who lost their homes...to help them find precious items that survived

My favorite quote from a local evacuation site for livestock: 

" Don't let that emu out, he is a real asshole and super hard to catch "

Everyone has been gentle with everyone...I see more hugging and listening.

I am finally able to get back to my practice too.

I found that not only had the stress taken a toll on me mentally, but physically.

I was not able to practice as the air quality was horrible for breathing 

and unsafe for teachers to get to the studio.

I was also unable to travel to the town to practice because of the fire activity.

I missed my quiet community of toe touchers.

Home practice is not the same, at least for me...

So here I am trying to adjust, working on readjusting...feeling quiet still

and watching The Barren like a hawk.

I think I will peel a window open today....I am feeling hopeful.

Can you speak up please....

So I am about to do something WAY OUTSIDE my wheelhouse.

WAY OUTSIDE MY COMFORT ZONE

I have been asked to be a panel member to speak to artists in college.

It is part of the career services department and they asked me over a month ago.

I said yes thinking that I would freak out less as time passed and it would all be ok.

I sent an email last week confirming that it was still a go (half thinking it would be canceled)

but instead I go the response that yes it is still happening and in fact I was on a panel of four people addressing something like 60+ students!

okay...

who are the other artists on the panel I wondered as I read the email...

oh, you are the only artist.

the other 3 people are two gallery directors and a Whitney Biannual recipient.

When I read this, I began to cry and then proceeded to spiral into a full blown panic attack!

They couldn't find anyone else!!!

Thankfully, even though The Barren was on the other side of the country for work, after he stopped laughing after learning the news, he was able to walk me off the ledge and get me to laugh too.

I am speaking about my everyday as an artist sitting next to the very people who judge and jury my work. I offer a unique perspective to the scenario....

I am crazy scared that my words will be hard to find, and fumbled when spoken.

I want to sound cool and collected and honest.

I then freaked out about the mop that is growing out of the top of my head-vanity

...I will be attending this event after morning yoga, then a full day of work!

I am getting a haircut tomorrow in hopes to shock it into submission for at least 48 hours.

The Barren will not be able to be there, and I have not told anyone that I am doing this.

Mostly because I am not sure knowingly having someone there, might not calm me down.

My freak flag is about to fly....

I am nervous but in my heart of hearts I know I can put on a mask of calm 

and ideally speak clearly and in a helpful manner. 

It is real

I am an artist

I can not not support myself on my art alone, but not from lack of trying

but that doesn't stop me from making art...

as it is the only way I know how to connect and understand the world around me.

Okay, haircut, clean clothes

tic tacs, deep breathing and don't trip!

Mantra: speak slowly, honestly and gracefully

and laugh, because really this is a first world problem and although it is scary it will not kill you!

Triangle Goddess

extended triangle

The triangle that points downward is one of the oldest symbols of the divine power of the female. It is an ancient symbol that represents the genitalia of a goddess. The triangle is connected to the number three which can represent true wisdom. 

I have explored photographing my practice at home, to see how my form is and compare it to that of instruction online and then practice in class. Instagram is amazing as a yoga resource! This pose has always been one of my favorites and after looking up the meaning, I was happy to see that even unconsciously I am moving in the right direction.

Celebrating the divine within me 

I have to remind myself

physical memories

So the new year has started and now we are almost done with this first month!

I am finding that I am experiencing a little struggle, mostly kicking myself into the right lane...

I made a list one morning while eating, trying to make it like an "automatic writing" experiment.

I only post it here so that I am reminded that these are the first things that came to mind and they are good ideas to strive for always...not just for this year.

 this is what I came up with:

be more present

be more honest & true

use kinder words in self talk

go to yoga as often as I can afford

make/experiment

stop comparing myself to others in stressful situations

read more books

embrace your laughter

paint your nails

learn to braid-for real

keep letting go

stop apologizing for nothing

make new friends/situations

do less home chores-you get lost in them

draw more

write more

be less afraid

I have found that "keep letting go" is the one theme I have revisited the most so far;

and I am finding that it is mostly in regards to physical things.

I cleared out my closet, and loving placed many items that I had emotional connections with into a box to give away.

I cleaned out under my bathroom sink and threw out the last pregnancy test I had squirreled away. 

I said out loud, I will never use you and get the answer I want.

Those seemed easy.

Today, while trying to clear out some studio clutter I came across these old pocket calendars.

I took copious notes in each, recording my daily appointments, birthdays, anniversaries and happenings, tracking my periods and noting my miscarriages.

I think I kept them as I didn't want to trow out these markers, like I was saving them for someone.

Today I chose to toss them into the recycling bin.

I carry these memories in my heart. I don't need to fear that I will loose them by throwing out the reminders of the dates. I can still carry those with me, regardless of where the original note is.

As for the Mudman of New Guinea, is a picture I cut from a travel magazine, 

they were on a bucket list many moons ago.

That too has faded into the past.

both are bittersweet, but not forgotten.

I have to remind myself of that.

Working on the railroad

I have been working on me

Trying to figure out what makes me tick: what makes me mad

and what makes me happy?!

you know, nothing deep or anything.

I have found myself looking through old photographs and re-remembering what I was thinking,
how I was feeling in a way trying to gauge if I have grown at all?

I am looking at little parts of my life.
Mental health, how I deal with situations, or not deal with situations.
Am I sleeping better or worse
Am I thinking better or worse.
What I have figured out so far
is that I've gone to over 330 classes 

this is the most devoted/dedicated/addicted I have been about any extra curricular activity in my WHOLE life. On the flip side,

I am learning to be OK with taking a day off here and there:

sometimes that 4am alarm is just too much

 I find that when I go back after a day or two off, I have a renewed sense of desire, drive or insight into why I go. I say good morning to several people now and when class is over I am thankful that I have spent the energy in class and for myself.

I am happy to announce that two publication have contacted me and will be publishing a piece of art in each of their publications. I wish it meant that I got a check to at least reimburse me for the monies put out, but the hard reality is that it doesn't. I will get a "by" line and a little snippet about who I am published in the books/zines and then it will be out in the universe for all the internet eternity.

My big hope is that it will vibrate back in a bigger better way for us.

I am pinning some hopes on that.

Onto baby things:

My friend with the new baby texted to say that she hadn't seen me in a while and asked if I wanted to come over. The Barren and I stopped by for a quick moment on the way to get some grub. I brought over some cat costumes as options for her kid to wear this Halloween. When we walked in she gave me a hug asked how I was and then said "do you want to hold him?" I looked at the perfectly content baby who was looking at himself in the mirror next to his crib and said " he looks so engaged, and so content. Not right now" I think the fact that I have yet to hold her baby is freaking her out. Some parts of me want to be the peacemaker and just hold him to get it over with, while a majority of me doesn't feel compelled to pick him up, so why force myself.

I think this will be a struggle for a little bit longer.

for both of us

Meanwhile, another woman from class asked if I wanted to go to tea after class to learn a little more about each other.
She had come into class last week and crouched down beside me before the session started and declared that women with children are crazy, and aren't we glad we didn't have any!

I listened to what she was saying and then told her that 

I was actually childless by circumstance not by choice. 

We had actually tried to create a family for 8years, 

but now I am working on my "do-over" portion of life.

She was quiet and unsure what to do, so we just did yoga after that.

At tea the following week, it was a strange conversation about how she was financially secure and successful, able to live where ever she wants because she made sacrifices and tough choices when she was younger. She is not sentimental about things and will be traveling for the next couple of months until just before Christmas and then she'll be around for another few months.

I should join her for coffee again.

It was strange, but I am glad I went for some reason.

I guess I am growing and changing.

I am often afraid for stagnation, but after thinking this all out here

it looks like a am really growing

but not growing up thank goodness:

yes, cosmic kitty yoga pants
I am that girl
I am that mature

Meditation for myself

This was read to us this morning as class was beginning.

I found it to be a great reminder, for our own lives and transformations

I am the decisive element

I have come to the frightening conclusion that I am the decisive element.

It is my personal approach that creates the climate.

 It is my daily mood that makes the weather.

I possess tremendous power to make life miserable or joyous.

I can be a tool of torture or an instrument of inspiration,

 I can humiliate or humor, hurt or heal. In all situations,

 it is my response that decides whether a crisis is escalated or de-escalated,

and a person is humanized or de-humanized.

If we treat people as they are, we make them worse.

 If we treat people as they ought to be,

we help them become what they are capable of becoming.

by Goethe 

Side Swiped

So it appears to be baby shower season...at least that is what it feels like.

When I got word of the first one, 

I put on my big girl pants, superhero cape and lasso of power 

and quickly said: 

" I can't go"

It felt powerful and right!

I was quite proud of myself.

What was ever cooler was that my SIL 

(who was throwing the party for her sister)

looked at me and said, OK 

and left it at that.

I was super happy that there was no drama

I made time one day and made the baby shower gifts, 

and packed them up way ahead of the event and laid that to rest.

The second shower invite is coming soon, 

I am not going to that one either.

The baby gifts are made and packed away too.

I have told The Barren so that he is well aware that I will be somewhere else,

doing something else.

Hopefully the mother to be will be distracted by her dozens of guests and not 

fixate on me not attending

(like I am that important)

The two mothers to be are very different, 

one got pregnant quickly and with no assistance

the other one, My SIL's sister, spent years trying and 

eventually got pregnant and was on bed rest the whole pregnancy.

When my SIL told me she was pregnant I was so happy fro her, when she said her sister was suffering from morning sickness I said that is great...I was happy for her, she was finally pregnant!

Her shower was to be tomorrow, she was driving my SIL crazy with her vision

of how everything should be. 

(on a side-note, I spoke with my mother and said that I TOTALLY understood this side of the coin. She has sacrificed her body, her finances, her relationship... everything to become a mother

...and now that she is one, she wants everything to be as she imagined it to be. It is her vision of the dream...she is wanting to be the pretty princess from the fairy tale, the happily ever after)

BUT... her water broke today and she is currently in labor.

Shower canceled.

I am finding that thinking about her becoming a mother has side swiped me with a lot of emotions

I thought I was past...or OK with but,

I was crying earlier...hearing in my head

That was suppose to be you

You will never be that woman in labor

you failed

I know that these are The Barreness creeping in with her spells and intoxicating words

I know that some of those things might be true,

but

I did not fail

The idea of this woman becoming a mother is bittersweet.

In my sorrow I texted her other sister, 

who is also infertile from secondary infertility

Just telling her that I was thinking of her, 

as I am sure today is a mixed bag of emotions for her as well

She thanked me for understanding the pain and emotion of the day.

Meanwhile,

The other mother to be is a rockstar, still doing crossfit at 7+month pregnant

feeling great and happy and dealing with everything like well, it is no big deal

She makes it look so easy

aside from her mentioning in conversations that well " because I am pregnant..."

I can even hang out with her and not want to punch myself in the face.

but today...today it might be harder

I know it will pass

and that a good sweat in class will clear this all out of my pores,

but today, today I just want to be 

free enough to feel my independence from these feelings again

Hope is a new word to embrace

Rejections are part of being an artist.

I know I have mentioned this before, but today I got another one 

and it seems to be a year of just being rejected.

Everything I have applied for, to date, has been rejected.

I know it is not " a reflection on my work"  but instead 

" There were so many beautiful, accomplished and uniquely creative photographs. Unfortunately your work was not chosen for the exhibition, but it was a pleasure to view your work, your accomplishments as a photographer and your dedication to the process of being an artist."

blah blah blah

I didn't use the word hope for almost a year. I didn't type it, write or say it. 

It was a sacred word for so long when we were trying to become parents. I was afraid to use the word casually, or on a whim...like saying the name of a demon or stepping on a crack in the cement. 

As I have started this process of stepping back from my lost dream, I have started to use it again as an empowering word again. I am not afraid to hope for things, 

I am just a bit cautiously optimistic in the 8 year wake of IF pain.

My art has given me a platform to try and use it again...

Every check I write to a gallery to view my work for consideration, 

every hour of research I do on the juror,

every image I review for compatibility for the shows theme or concept;

I pin hope on that last stroke of the key when submitting.

I know that I have tossed caution/fate into the wind. 

Art is subjective and curators/judges often have a vision of the show 

before even seeing any of the work. 

I try to forget about the submission until the week they are due to announce the results.

Even after all these years and all the rejections

It still feels like a kick in the heart when the generic letter arrives

I get sad 

I get mad

I get unsure of my self and my work

I wonder if I am on the right path, the right road or

in the right state of mind.

Somehow, I seem to always pull myself up by my bootstraps 

and write another check for chance, 

for HOPE.

I just keep working towards/for my dream of supporting The Barren and making him a kept man,

and having someone love my work as much as I think it is worth being loved.

Boo- this is your self doubt knocking!

 

I can not tell you how much I love this little GIF.

I don't care if it is real or not...it makes me laugh.

 

 

This is my favorite time of year, but I fear the drought will last though the year still....making the fall far from cold and rainy and windy...but instead keep us on our toes for fires and water restrictions.

I have become the water police in our neighborhood, calling landscape companies and hotlines to report water being wasted....it is scary I have become that woman.

I should wear my pointed hat on the next call....scary...ooo

 

This time of year offers a cocoon of sorts in my mind...the last of this years submissions are by weeks end and I am relishing in the fact that I can kind of rest my mind, cocoon maybe sew something or bake something or simply step away from the ledge or anxiety and fear and self doubt.

I have been on the verge of tears recently.
I feel quite raw, and fragile.
My mantras have been helping, and I can recognize when that self doubt is talking under an action.
I asked my brother today if he feel confident, in new situation or situation in general and he said no.
I didn't question further but I find it interesting as I only see him as self confident and ballsy.
Ironically, I visited with an artist friend who is very successful and she and a couple other friends were voicing their own self doubt as of late, I find their thoughts interesting...and comforting.

Artist friend #1:

As far as my attitude about my work…here goes…I seriously feel it is never good enough, pretty sure at the end of most days it is total crap and I wake up mostly in fear daily that I will never be able to have a good idea or at least not be able to paint one if I managed to have one. I recently found photos of a large painting that was going splendidly until I was totally unable to finish it as I wanted to…so, it turned into something completely different. Now, I am going to try that same idea again and demand better results from myself. 

"Paint what you love, paint a lot and find a good gallery…someone who shares your passion and respects what you do." That is my mantra.

Artist friend #2 forwarded this article " universal artist experience"
stating she was toggling between bargaining and depression:
 

Here’s an idea of what these stages mean to me:

Denial: This is not bad…not the painting I had in my head when I started…but maybe this will work…
Anger: Why isn’t this working? Why can’t I find that color? Why can’t I draw a horse?
Bargaining: OK, if you (the Art God?) just let me get this one painting done in time for the show, I promise I’ll clean up my studio and give up popcorn…and maybe ice cream.
Depression: This is never going to work. What made me think I could paint?
Acceptance: Well, this is not bad. This is going to work for now and the next one will be even better. I hope. I just have to keep working at it and I will get as close as I can before I die.

So I take comfort in knowing that we are all mad and sometimes crippled with self-doubt.

Comfort in numbers I guess.

Red is the color of power

OK, so this is the shade I finally decided on.

I wore it the night of the opening and felt confident, and sure of myself.

I was comfortable in my own skin and was able to speak about my work easily and freely.

I recommend this experiment to anyone who is shaky in their shoes.

I got my lipstick for .99 cents at the local drug store...low investment, high yield.

Beside my feet being beyond tired and sore the following day I was projected into a numb space.

I think I had put out soooo much the weeks prior, that after the spotlight turned off I went numb. I turned off the smile and drove home. We ordered Indian take-out and I sat on the couch and watched The secret life of Walter Mitty....it made me cry remembering how much I loved film photography.

This coupled with the amazing documentary I saw about Dorothea Lange not long ago; 

I was reminded of my roots and original goals for my life.

I am having what The Barren refers to as an existential crisis; I am feeling at a life crossroads.

Being an artist with a second job has me constantly juggling my mind from off ,to on, to off , to pause.

I met with a couple fellow artists yesterday, we are collaborating as a group to try and secure a location to manifest our personal visions and goals for our careers.

It has hit quite a road-bump, but when meeting yesterday, we asked of each other what is the "big dream"

What is the image we can hold on to?!

I went quiet in my mind.

I had lost sight of my long term goal...hence my existential crisis.

I have been working on making but forgetting what for...I got short sighted.

My response was to say that I would like to only have one job...

(the reality is still quite hard to swallow, but I want to put it out there)

A little voice in my head said, you don't deserve this....that is why you can't see it.

After our meeting, I drove home in silence, and then my brain got so loud and overwhelmed with thoughts that I collapsed and took a nap for 20 minutes.

On waking up I was shaking, I needed to find my goal again, 

I needed to remember what I was working for or towards.

I needed to know why I was hearing a voice tell me that I didn't deserve success?!

What allowed that voice to enter me, sabotage me and make me question all that I am?

I was at a loss and wasn't sure when that naysayer became part of my internal conversation.

Like many things in my life, when I get scared I say what is scaring me out loud. 

I learned this when I was preparing for surgery. 

Buddhists laugh in face of fear, as it reduces the power of the fear.

I call it out. I say it out loud....

If I say it enough it becomes mine again.

I deserve success, 

I make art that is loved by people other than my family and friends.

I am good enough for this

I am declaring it like I did with the lipstick.

Fear ME little voice, I will silence you!

Ignore the woman crying about cheese

NOT my only wish....

OK so firstly, I am not gonna mince words here:

I am sad about food right now.

I am a foodie, and this last bit of veganism is hard and heartbreaking.

example:

this past weekend was a long one for many in the US, it was labor day 

this is my favorite visual to go with that day of thanks:

I live in an agriculture center, and so daily I am reminded of the many that are laboring much harder than me for the food that I eat. I made sure to point out to my niece and nephew what food is grown where, so when they pass those fields, they recognize it as food and become conscience of the people working so hard to bring it to our tummies.

That being said, when the Barren and I were thinking about what to make, BBQ and snack on this weekend, the Barren suggested a caprese salad...one of my favorites and it makes sense to suggest it as it was a go-to for SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO long.

Except, this time when he mentioned it I began to cry; a sad silly cry...and then I became mad...at him for no reason and then suggested we just go home and I would eat the drywall instead.

I was possessed by a bitter, self-loathing demon, who wanted me to feel as horrible as possible about holding true to my health concerns and desire for self-preservation.

Thank goodness the Barren recognized this and simply let it all play out and then when I resurfaced and apologized for it, we went to the store for BBQ fixings.

He in his wonderful way, ended up putting soft cheese into the basket for himself...but did it with puppy-dog eyes of "I'm so sorry I am putting this in the basket, I know it haunts you"

We got home and when it was time to fix dinner he realized he got the wrong type of cheese for a salad and told me " I got the wrong kind" I said you got burrata huh?, it is creamy and super soft and delicious on toasted bread with tomato and basil...

He smirked and I just smiled and sighed.

I am having a hard time with this last stretch of vegan; dinner out is hard, dinner in is a constant dance of what to make, prepare and plan for. I'm exhausted from chopping veggies and reading recipes.

After a long day, it would awesome to have an option to just pick up dinner on the way home...but there is no real way to do that, and to add insult to injury, I have a soy sensitivity, so tofu or soy products are a no go for me... by sensitivity I will weigh the pros and cons of how intense a hot flash will be if I eat this or that.

So I am often eating soba noodles with veggies or a microwaved yam with peas and walnuts.

When my parents asked if we could do dinner together last night, as the Barren was working late, I just about burst into tears again...but instead said : I would love to but food right now is really complex and once I figure it out we will..I just have to work on it a little longer.

I have been trying the mantra: it is just food, you are fed the rest is decoration.

I went to an art opening last night and when three girlfriends asked if I would like to join them for dinner, I was ready to say thanks but no thanks...but it turns out they wanted to try a new VEGAN restaurant in town....I felt self conscience thinking they were suggesting it as they knew I was now vegan....but it turns out the place also serves gluten free which two of the three were sensitive to! 

We were a group of special food needs people, it was my tribe of particulars!

We all had a dinner together, I was able to relax and talk art with the others who are also artists and when the ordering happened I was not the only one asking what this or that was, everyone did! 

below are the obligatory food photos...in case you want to see what was tried.

top was gluten free the bottom was not...but both were vegan

STREET TACO. CACAO BLACK BEAN. JACKFRUIT ‘CHORIZO’. BLUEBERRY CHIPOTLE SALSA. CARAMELIZED ONION. HEIRLOOM TOMATO. SUMAC. JALAPENO SLAW  $10

BLACK BEAN, WALNUT AND GRILLED KALE BURGER. FLATBREAD. PEA TENDRIL. PICKLED WATERMELON RADISH. TARATOR LEMON TAHINI  $15  
the rings are breaded and fried preserved meyer lemons...weird salt/sour experience
the red smear was SUPER spicy chipotle sauce that had me gasping for air

I came home feeling a little less excluded from food culture...