Wordless Wednesday

Source

wordless Wednesday

I've got loads to say....

but for now, here is a pretty boy and a yoga mat

wordless wednesday

in my ongoing effort to heal myself
this resonated with me

Wordy Wednesday

go outside and breathe the air, 

even but for a moment sweet lovelies

Wordless Wednesday

There are no words for this....just smiles!
Happy Wednesday lovely ladies

Wordless Wednesday

 

I think things are really changing



Remembering

photo: Henri Cartier-Bresson

 

Yesterday was the anniversary of my first of three miscarriages.

I carried this reminder with me all day.

I awoke in the dark and quiet and got dressed.

Cats trailing me like shadows.

I drove in the dark to yoga, and set my intention to be kind to myself.

I focused inward during my practice and felt open afterwards.

My heart wide open, and I could feel the morning air flow through my lungs.

My chest felt uplifted and vulnerable.

I showered and went to get juice.

Quietly stepping over a man sleeping in the early morning dawn on the cement.

(he was someone's baby many days ago, he was someone's little boy....)

 I got a juice for The Barren and caught him before he entered work.

He was already frustrated and huffy before seeing me, and me handing him juice, which was not what he wanted had him roll his eyes and snapped his first words to me.

I held back tears as I told him I hoped his day would be better.

He saw this and lowered his head as he entered the building, like deflated balloon.

With tears brimming, I put a smile on my face and drove away hoping he would not see the arrow sticking out from my chest.

He called and asked me to tell him why I was crying...I was scared to upset his day more and said I was fine. He kept poking and I told him I was tip toe-ing away as he was clearly already mad and I didn't want to feed into it. I told him I loved him and he said he loved me

 and then we hung up to get back to work.

 

Ten minutes later this text arrived:

You are my heart and my soul and the inspiration and sustenance of my flesh.

Mornings like this where we stumble and trip and get caught on the roots of fear and confusion are one of my great pains in my life. I'm sorry. 

 

 

As the day passed I thought of him and how relationships take work.

Sometimes the way you express love is not seen as expressions of love by the other person but simply actions. So the real work in a long relationship is finding the right language/expressions when you want to show love.

 

We joined family that night to carve pumpkins.

By the time The Barren arrived and I had already cleaned the guts out of his pumpkin,

as I know he is not fond of that.

I watched my niece and nephew jab, saw, and carve their pumpkins, focused on creating a master  piece of a lantern! 

I drew a silly simple design on mine.

My pumpkin carving has been lacking these last few years...

We all ate together and as the night grew, The Barren was handed our newest niece to hold.

I saw him hesitate for a moment and then relax into it, our niece put her head on his chest and I could see him relax and then feel the bittersweet radiate from him.

He handed the little lady to me and I sat her to face us.

 The Earl (my brother) watched on...making sure we were holding her OK.

There was a strange quiet that fell over the room, or maybe I stopping hearing anything...

Our other niece sat on my other side and I realized for a moment that I was holding a baby, sitting next to my hubby, and had another child on the other side of me. The Barren made faces and cooed, gentling touching her arms and fingers commenting on how soft her skin was.

Like he was discovering it for the first time.

She eventually went back to her parents and we eventually drove home.

 

At home he asked how it was to hold her, I told him I was fine with it. How was he?

He said it was weird but alright in a way.

He asked how my day was, alright aside from our rough start to it.

I told him I was feeling very open and raw;

I was carrying an anniversary with me that at times during the day felt heavy.

He realized what I was talking about and said he was sorry he didn't remember.

I didn't expect him to remember, me reminding him was all he needed,

all he could really bear at this time.

 

Our wedding anniversary is a couple days away, so we shifted our conversation to that.

How we wanted to make a grand romantic gesture for each other but were coming up empty.

It is feeling a little melancholy these days;  a lock down at work so no one can take days off this coming month, the pressure of the year ending

and the absolute NEED for some time away/tuning out.

 

This morning in class, in the dark, I spoke to my babies.

I told them I loved them and that I was sorry we never got to hug each other.

I know we both could use that about now.

Self Study

image

While laying in a pool of my own making Friday afternoon, my teacher was talking about, "sriyaya",* self study, at least that is the word I heard through my own heartbeat and labored breathing. The word struck me as funny and I giggled to myself, making note to look it up and see if she really knew what she was talking about....she did.

 

I am finding that these classes are getting me closer to understanding myself....really getting a better picture of what I want to do, what I can do and what I have gladly left behind.

I am able to see myself in the mirror and not feel repulsed by who is looking back at me.

I see a hurt little girl, a strong but shaky woman who wants desperately to love herself again.

I am much gentler to her now.

Often in class, while I sit in a pose thinking this feels really good on my low back or makes me feel strong...I listen to my internal banter and it goes something like this:

 I want every one of my "sisters" to feel better

I want to create a class just for us infertiles. Like a club....

 Why would I want a labeled infertiles club? I wouldn't go to it...

that was a silly idea, breathe or you will puke...

 

I am breaking free from my own labels,

ones I seem to have tagged myself with and I no longer want to carry around or be.

I had a rough couple of weekends, feeling shaky in myself and my self esteem.

I went down a very dark hole and found it was very easy to stay there, angry and mean and unhappy.

I went to bed grumpy and repeated mean things to myself as a lullaby.

Then in the morning, I told myself that it was the wrong way. I needed to float above this Maury Povich show and walk away from this drama and negative self words.

It was a little like taffy but I kept going to class, and I kept my appointments and I walked further and further away from it. Not turning back, to see how far I had walked.
It is something, I find, I might always struggle with.
No matter how hard I work on myself, it is a constant practice of learning to love myself, learning to accept myself and finding ways to make peace with the mean voices.
I am neck deep in these books of self study....but it is helping slowly.
I can look at my newest niece and the first thoughts are not how come it is not me,
 but instead
Hello there you wonderful little one.

 

 

 

* Svadhyaya ("one's own going into")

Svadhyaya is the fourth of the five niyamas (observances towards ourselves). Sva means “self” and adhyaya means “investigation, inquiry, or education.” Teachers define svadhyaya as “Self-inquiry; any study that helps you understand yourself; the study of sacred texts.” These definitions all offer us different paths towards educating ourselves.

Wednesday

I saw a dead raccoon on the side of the road, with a "get well soon" balloon tied to it's hand. I wanted to jump out of the car to take a photo, but it was the freeway, and I realized that balloon could have then been for us both.

Hiding

I seem to be hiding, well not obviously hiding but, symbolically speaking.

I have spent way too much time with a project that should have taken a week to complete but instead we are looking at over a month now...and I am putting myself up against a wall to the deadline.

It is like I am finding distractions or something.

Remember how I told you I had signed up for a figure drawing class. Well I pretty much have found an excuse to skip it almost every week since I first signed up. Too tired, uninspired...not wanting to go. I can figure a myriad of reasons not to go, and

we are talking about a class that is for MY PLEASURE.

Well I dragged my ass back to class this week, it probably helped that the instructor decided that the punch card had an expiration date and my penny wise self decided that $50 for a single class was too much, so I better go and get my monies worth.

I was the first one there, and then I was in the car ready to talk myself out of staying,
waiting to see if anyone else was going to arrive, and then they did.
So I went in, got a spot and cleared my mind...
I was going to draw, it was good for me...
it will clear this desire to procrastinate...
buying dresses online instead of work on art pieces isn't gonna swing anymore
and this will help me reintroduce myself to my inner workings.

The model arrived, she was young and appeared to be a dancer maybe...
she had long legs and arms and was stretching a lot.
The classroom filled with people and drawing boards.
She remained clothed and once the posing started it was obvious this was one of her first gigs.
She stood, bent and then sat.
She was not dynamic, not inspired, not practiced at posing.
She wasn't able to hold still for even the 1 minute warm ups
and
I think she had a crush on one of the male artists in class,
as her eyes (then head) kept turning towards him.
I was less then inspired and starting fighting with the "flee, run from here and hide" voice in my head.

When it was time for her first "long pose", 20minutes, she proceeded to curl into a fetal ball on top of the table and fight falling asleep.
She hid all her lines, and shifted multiple times.
She was hiding from the artists gaze; it was clear to me that she wanted to disappear.
*
I ended up doing blind contour drawings for the rest of the time.
(blind contour is an exercise in looking. You only look at the subject and keep your pencil on the paper and draw what you see, never looking at what you are drawing until you are done.
note image above)
I drew multiple pieces and then started to simply write what I was seeing,
I was loosing my fight with the "run and hides"
The class had started with the teachers ipod playing the whole first side of Strange Days it was mixed with the sounds from the next door studio; which was playing rehearsal music for the troop of ballet dancers, classical piano pieces. When the instructor realized the slurry of sounds, we had heard it for half an hour. She turned off her music and it was strangely quiet, but for the looped classical music now and then.
I made it an hour...I told the teacher I got a text and needed to leave.
this is what I wrote when I was not drawing:

The dog entered the room and serpentine through the easels
eager to greet every artist in the room.
The room was quiet but for the sounds coal, ink and brush on paper,
or erasers pulling coal from paper.
I can hear the almost muted sounds from a nearby set of headphones.
The sounds of ballet instruction bleeds through the walls-
the thumps of dancers landing on floors is synchronized.  
The model, despondent, laid on a piece of foam, on a counter, on top of cabinets
illuminated by three stainless floodlights.

I felt it was best I leave, as I was fearful I would start to grimace or simply stare at the wall or her the rest of the time. That would be creepy and weird, I couldn't be those things.
 So I went home and spent the night wrestling with my choices.
The ones I was struggling with for the timeline,
the media that was mocking me,
the desires I wanted to recapture.
I might be hiding, I admit it.
Is it bad that I am hoping this respite turns out to be a metamorphosis?
 is that to much to ask of myself, of my destiny?
If I am the master of my destiny, can I not want that?
Or is wanting a bad thing?
I am new at shaping my life, I normally didn't put much thought into it...now it seems that if I don't pay attention it will be shaped for me in my absence.
That is a big deal
How do you run towards something?
When you are fearful that it might make you feel exposed?



Wordless Wednesday

I love me some good funk, and this is one of the videos wandering around the Internets of

"how to dance to the new Daft Punk album" made my day and made me remember
dancing with the Soul Train dancers Saturday mornings.
Get that booty moving:

Wordless Wednesday

camera phone images from last weekends AMAZING opening night

I will write more about it later:

 

Marquee wall
(one piece can be seen in the square black frame)

view of second piece from the crowd
(I marked it with a little red dot, as it sold shortly after the show opened)

opposite side of the gallery...packed as well

people pointing at my work

view of the waning crowd after two and a half hours
(camera shot overhead)

 



dazed and emotional-wordless wednesday

This was my everything since Friday afternoon:

My mother was rushed to the ER on Friday and it was discovered that she had a kidney infection that had gone septic, completely dehydrated and dropped her blood pressure to deathly levels.

She is home now

I am speechless today.

Wordless Wednesday

Treats for you: treats for me

How to make this cake: HERE

It was amazing!

I had no control over the size of the slice, my host handed it to me like this

I didn't finish it, mostly because I had already climbed the walls and offered to clean her rain gutters from all the sugar : )

mmmmmmm sugar

wordless wednesday

snorgtees.com

We will talk soon

Wordless Wednesday

"Most people are afraid of suffering. But suffering is a kind of mud to help the lotus flower grow. There cannot be a lotus flower without the mud."

Thich Nhat Hanh

I know a lot of people know this phrase, but it seemed to resonate in me today

Words for Wednesday

I think I need to add this womans mantra to my mix

A while back, at the entrance of a gym, there was a picture of a very thin and beautiful woman. The caption was "This summer, do you want to be a mermaid or a whale?"

The story goes, a woman (of clothing size unknown) answered the following way:

"Dear people, whales are always surrounded by friends (dolphins, seals, curious humans), they are sexually active and raise their children with great tenderness.
They entertain like crazy with dolphins and eat lots of prawns. They swim all day and travel to fantastic places like Patagonia, the Barents Sea or the coral reefs of Polynesia.
They sing incredibly well and sometimes even are on cds. They are impressive and dearly loved animals, which everyone defend and admires.

Mermaids do not exist.

But if they existed, they would line up to see a psychologist because of a problem of split personality: woman or fish?
They would have no sex life and could not bear children*.
*(this part does not dictate happiness) Yes, they would be lovely, but lonely and sad.
And, who wants a girl that smells like fish by his side?

Without a doubt, I'd rather be a whale.

At a time when the media tells us that only thin is beautiful, I prefer to eat ice cream with my kids, to have dinner with my husband, to eat and drink and have fun with my friends.

We women, we gain weight because we accumulate so much wisdom and knowledge that there isn't enough space in our heads, and it spreads all over our bodies.
We are not fat, we are greatly cultivated.
Every time I see my curves in the mirror, I tell myself: "How amazing am I ?! "

(The girl on the picture is French model Tara Lynn)

His point of view

This article was sent to me via a male friend...it is interesting read, and beautifully written...

one note: it might make you cry...so fair warning.

Mechanical

it made me and hubby cry at least

Wordless Wednesday

Things are heavy in my heart and mind, I am fighting some deep sorrow....

but I am fighting; so I am focusing on the good in that.

Here is my (inspiration) medicine for today:

Wordless Wednesday

Mac and Cheese

sometimes that is all you need to make everything

just right