Dream

photo via: animalheadvintage

I had a dream last night that I went to the Doctor for my 6month

after surgery check up and they did an ultrasound

and found I had two babies growing in the wrong space...

one was growing in my tube and the other in my ovary.

I had to have emergency surgery and have them taken.

I was heartbroken and worried, wondering if there was any way to save them.

 

I was searching for the Barren and couldn't find him....

I had my mother with me and I was frightened

that she would not hear what the doctor found

...or that she would keep information from me.

Even after waking I was still frightened

 

That dream was followed by another the following night

that I was searching

for The Barren again; the night sky was filled with bi-planes

 they appeared like larger then life fireflies.

As I was searching I entered a building that was built like the Guggenheim (a spiral)

it was a mall or someplace like it in dream logic

I was entering and exiting the maze of spaces

until I reached an open atrium space

where a baby giraffe was, running in circles in the small space, the keeper

laughing at its fear and panic.

I tried to calm the baby, shh-ing and cooing...but before I could

it collapsed, eyes wide open...stiff and strait as a pole.

 

I am not sure what these dreams mean, or why I felt compelled to write about them...

I know they are full of dream symbols:

1. To dream that a giraffe is running implies that you are avoiding the truth. It also suggests that you saw something that you shouldn't have seen. To see a giraffe in your dream suggests that you need to consider the overall picture. Take a broader view on your life and where it is headed. The dream may also be a metaphor on how you are "sticking your neck out" for someone.
 
2. To see an airplane in your dream indicates that you will overcome your obstacles and rise to a new level of prominence and status. You may experience a higher consciousness, new-found freedom and greater awareness. Perhaps you need to gain a better perspective or wider view on something. If the airplane is taking off, then it suggests that an idea or plan is about to "take off" and be put into action. It may also represent your need to get away and escape from your daily life.
   
    
3. To dream that you are a doctor suggests that there is some problem that you need to patch up or some emotional wound that you need to bandage up. Alternatively, it signifies your ability to offer your support to others.

Ironically, two new giraffes were born at the local zoo...

"April 30, 2013: Congratulations, Betty Lou!

    Betty Lou gave birth April 28 to a healthy calf named Sunshine. She is being an attentive mom, and letting the calf nurse. Sunshine is 6' and 133 lbs. Zookeepers have begun introductions to the rest of the herd, and mother-calf pairs will most likely rotate on and off exhibit. Michael, father to both calves, will remain on exhibit most of the time."

 

 

 

Once a year

 

Yep, it is my birthday today.

I am not feeling a whole lot of festive.

 

I have been pulling myself through the week.

I know I have a lot to celebrate and how thankful I am for this life.

My parents are alive and mostly healthy, my body seems to be acting civil towards me,

I have an amazing husband and I am able to explore my art.

I am thankful.

 

I also have this overwhelming feeling that I don't deserve a celebration.

Like I have not done enough to earn it.

It is the battle I have been fighting.

 

All week, and last I was telling The Barren I didn't want to talk about my birthday,

 it was too emotional.

But...knowing me as well as he does,

I have overstressed my beloved, as he knows

I will want to be surrounded by friends at the last moment

and then he will be at a loss.

So to reduce The Barrens stress level I have helped him out this year.

I decided that maybe a cake eating party would make me feel better.

I will report back on that.

I am sending out the last minute invites today.

I also plan on dressing up and

we are having dinner with the parents tonight, and I know that should set me strait.

 

In beginning my birthday reflections,

I think I might go silent next year for NIAW, or not post anything in regards to my infertility.

I hope that this year, I can begin to make a metamorphosis and start to tilt the scales away from

being the infertile woman...and more about being the artist who also has

a body of work about infertility.

 

I plan on making a new list of goals for myself....

and eating loads of cake

with ice cream

Quiet the crazy

Here we are ladies, in the middle of NIAW.

It seems like many of us don't need to be reminded of this week,

 as we live with it daily, hourly, even moment by moment.

This week makes many of us sudden advocates, warriors and spokespeople.

Many of us are reluctant, or fearful of revealing ourselves.

Myself included;
 because after 8 years

I am now working on being something,

someone, other than the infertile woman,

the barren couple,

the sad story.

 

Yesterday I was in a deep dark place, I had a whole lot of crazy swirling in my head.
I had my mean mantras repeating themselves, the destructive ones, the easy ones...

I had a weekend full of my crazy MIL who probably has no thoughts about our last encounter and figures it was just a normal conversation about the weather or a new item of clothing.
 I was not able to tell her how it made me feel and I think that had taken a toll on my mental health. I was not able to make eye contact with her the whole time and it made me feel weak and sad. It built up and when I awake yesterday it was VERY clear to me that
I was going to battle a day of deep sadness.
I have composed a bunch of letters in my head, spoken to myself, with great presence and dignity about how it made me feel and also envisioned whacking her upside the head a'la cartoon style until she came to her compassionate senses.



this is an illustration only, I do not have button eyes

 

None have escaped my head...really
though it was fun to think about picking up the paella pan that
separated us at dinner and hit her with it.

Now, she is far away, and most likely we will not see/hear from her for many more months, or until she calls frantic for us to visit them thousands of miles away, RIGHT NOW drop everything.
We will cross that bridge when it appears; until then I am working on filtering out all the hurt and pain and frustration.
I am better today, I told The Barren this morning while standing naked and wet from the shower: "today is a new day, lets try this again"
it was the start of the day, I was naked and nothing had stuck to me yet!

NIAW makes me remember, that there are other people in this world that have no idea what others are living with, how powerful a casual statement can sit and fester, or how desperately we don't want to think about this week.
 

Empty-NIAW 2013

In honor of NIAW I have decided to post something I wrote two years ago:

Emptiness- containing nothing

Infertility left a hole in me. I was left as shell of myself for some time.

The first sign that something was wrong arrived while I was at work…I got a frantic phone call from my doctor just two hours after my first pelvic ultrasound. “Um… there is a fairly large unknown growth that appears to be in your bladder and we are not sure exactly what it is. So I need to you see a gynecological oncologist, an urologist and get a CT scan in the next day or so”.  I worked at a warehouse and so while she is feeding me a list of numbers and phrases over the phone, I was simply seeking a quiet place to hear all she was saying. When she was done, I couldn’t move; but when I did I shot out the door as fast as I could in hopes no one would see the flood of tears that would be my last for a long while.

I became a pin cushion, I was probed and prodded for months, years…some people were skilled and left no marks, others left bruises, rashes and scar tissue.

I was submissive through this all.

As the months passed, something shifted and I felt nothing; no pain, no joy, no happiness… nothing. Food was not enjoyable; friends were of no comfort. I spent time staring into space, watching the walls be white. I commuted 45 miles to work daily, and often times would find myself at work not remembering how I got there, even though I had driven myself. It took great effort to make easy decisions, like which cereal to buy for breakfast. I was on auto pilot.

I was able to dress myself, bath myself and eat, but I was not there for it.

I stopped expressing emotions; I didn’t laugh, get angry or cry. I was a shell, it was me to all appearances, but no one was home.

“The stork has been visiting- 2007

I visited her at the hospital, and cried on the way there. Mourning as I drove closer and closer...
The night I received her call, I dozed off with my arms wrapped around my invisible baby...wanting so badly to wake from this horrible dream I am in.

I felt like Dumbo's mama watching all the other mothers receive their babies.

I have not slept well and had a panic attack in the shower this morning...feeling as though I would faint. I fought the collapse, because I didn't want to frighten my husband in the early hour.

Sadly, it would have been very easy to surrender to the dark.”  Text from BARREN: life on infertile soil

As my bruises healed I was left with the stark reality of having no external symbols of my pain, my heartbreak, my existence.

How would anyone know what was happening…

NIAW 2013

Here is the start of a week, we all are too familiar with.

Let the headgames begin!

 

 

Note to self...

The front of the postcard, charming, no?!

So I was in the garage today, making room for furniture that is bound to arrive by this weekend.

It is the only place that it will fit.

Furniture that is no doubt beautiful and old and too big to fit in our tiny home.

BUT I am still holding a candle for a "forever home" that will fit the chest and the dresser.

 

I was moving things, building a pile of items that will be picked up by the local thrift store this week before they unload more things into the tiny garage that we then get to deal with down the road.

Anyhooo... I was moving stuff and unearthed a box of old photos.

Among the treasures I exhumed was a postcard I sent myself.

Yep, I am that person....I send myself a postcard the last day of the journey telling myself how I was feeling at that moment or what I had learned.

It arrives days after me, and usually just as the "paradise is fading from my memory" and I am getting back to reality moment.

 

This postcard was sent to me, by me in 1997

I had gone (escaped)* to Europe for a few weeks, to find out how damaged I was.

The Barren and I were about 5years into our relationship and he was ready to settle down and I was flipping out....so I ran away to listen to my heart and get a little space....well a lot of space.

He endorsed this, and waited for me to figure shit out...it was really only a short period of time but enough to put things in line, ya know?! 

*Running away sounds to romantic, but really it was me on a $20 a day budget for food and housing and I was eating a lot of candy bars and staying in hostels that fed you breakfast so I could pocket bread or cereal for dinner.

Anyways.....

 

I read this postcard again today with a smile on my face.

This is what it says:

Well- here I am and there you are- two way different places-but still one person. You can depend on yourself- and know how long and short time can be, hours, days, months. Feet are tired, ankles sore- emotionally exhausted. but-in a sense a bit afraid of getting into a groove-becoming set in my ways again. Remember movement-simple movement. walking barefoot-walking the dog-motion is what you need and know that returning can be just as good as coming- the swing is in your heart- you have the ability to come and go and don't let that be taken away.Continue to say what you feel. Be aware of what you need and tell him- don't back down as you wouldn't want him to do.and make art-your soul needs it. Send slides-invest in yourself and enjoy time. Don't wait for it to pass (as I am doing now) be loving-take another chance and give it. Know that you are a strong-confident woman-keep that damn smirk on your face. Keep them wondering.



I am so glad I sent myself this card....it is like a pocket mantra.



The Phonecall

I miss these phones,
you could slam them against things and make dents

 

I was reaching out to a couple people I know in an effort to help a fellow friend make a couple connections for possible job opportunities.

It is WAY out of my nature to ask or refer to myself as a bridge for someone to get something.

I guess I don't feel like I hold that level of importance or something.

you know like, I know someone, and they work at this place and a third person I know wants to work at said place and so I introduce them so they can chat or make that connection.

I just wanted to do whatever I could to help this awesome friend, so I got over it for the morning.

 

Well, one of the calls back, with a more then happy to help person, came from someone I have only really casually spoken to over the years. She is CRAZY smart, you know, speaks 5 languages fluently and has 245thousand extra letters after her name from degrees she has collected over time.

She is about to be 35yrs old, and is very involved in her career.

She got married a couple of years ago to a friend of The Barren.

 

When we were chatting about the easiest and best way to get my friend and her to contact one another she got kind of quiet.

I asked if she had more travel plans in line for the year.

She said those heartbreaking words

" I don't know if this is the right time to say this but...."

She then told me that she threw out her BCP when she got engaged and after three years found out that she has PCOS.

I was bathed in a calm, a heartbreaking calm

 

I told her I was so sorry, and how heartbreaking it is.

She then began to talk about everything; and I began to listen with a heavy heart.

She told me how people are relentlessly asking her when she is going to start a family and that it kills her a little each time.

"it is in gods hands" is her normal response,

she said for her it gets them to stop asking and that it conveys that she is wanting children and is not a child hater or shunning the idea/hope.

(seriously, isn't it amazing that people jump to the idea that we don't like kids because we don't have them....ughhhhh)

She mentioned how she feels like she is letting her family down, her brother is gay and she is the families only hope for grandchildren and that she is letting them down.

I said the words that I work to believe everyday:

" This is not your fault, you didn't do this"

I then tried to assure her that she would find the right choices for herself.

I told her that she and her hubby would find their path, and that maybe she could mention it to her family too, that she was struggling...and needed some extra love and compassion.

She mentioned that her husband said to her

"that if she took better care of herself this wouldn't have happened."

He told her "you should call The Barreness and The Barren, they know about what you are going through"

(notice the lack of engagement from hubby, it is all her, not him)

I felt like my friends did, wanting to find a cast iron pan and lop him upside his head.

instead...

I repeated the mantra:

This is not your fault, you did not do this

I told her that it was important to remember it when things got dark

 

She said she was offered a job out of the US and was considering it. She said she needed to find a new path, a new purpose, a new reason for being who she was.

It broke my heart a little more

but I completely understood.

I mentioned that this process is a lifelong one, some days are good and some are bad.

I gave her an exercise my therapist gave me and she said she would try it.

When the call was over she thanked me and I told her I believed in her and her choices that were right for her, she needed to make those paramount.

 

After hanging up the phone, The Barren who overheard the whole call said:

" are you OK, that was a lot for you"

I said: " We are the infertility hotline, we can answer all questions.

Our phones are open 24/7"

 

I got up, pulled two sticks of butter out of the fridge and made cookies.

It was a lot



Moving Forward...

image via pinterest

 

So as another week passes I feel fortified!

I got me one FAN-FUCKING-TASTIC

badass girl friends!

 

This last weekends family gathering was so low on drama, it was shocking.

(thank you for your kind words and thoughts)

 

The Barren and I both were still a bit guarded,

and watching our niece and nephew play with the other young duo that was there was heartbreaking, but also enjoyable as we had no responsibilities other than giving hugs and kind words.

 

The Barren feeding the in house bunnies and piggies

 

We were often quiet, and although there was a lot of talking, a lot of it was about other people, other adventures and other events. It was refreshing.

We posed for the "awkward family photo" and the few pics I have seen so far, reflect the level of comfort everyone was feeling from wearing matching outfits.

No attacks, no drama for me, no drama for The Barren

ahhhhhh

 

We returned home and I spoke with girlfriends and unloaded my heart.

Every dear wonderful friend I spoke to was angry and wanted to hit them( SIL and MIL)

 upside the head with a cast iron pan.

It made me feel so loved and protected and cared for

in a really primal way.

I know that the ladies I have worked so hard to have in my life are dear wonderful companions.

I feel like the luckiest lady on earth for it.

 

Now, now I am diving back into the studio...it is where I am happiest.

It is safe and free and smells right

 

Plus, I need to reinforce those plates of armour

My aforementioned mother-in-law will be visiting very soon.

next week I am told.

So that distance I thought I had is not the case....The Barren promises to stay near this time.

I think mostly to make sure I don't pick up any pans

 



1,2,3...

image via etsy

 

 

All the clothes are packed, the xanax is packed, a pair of cozy PJ's are packed.

I am about to dive into another weekend of family.

 

This one has the airs of mellow, all appearances point to it.

Wine, a private room, no real plans aside from meals together

and the aforementioned family photo.

All the children that will be attending have preplanned activities, that do not involve us.

 

I am a little gun shy, but call me gullible, I think this one will be far better then last

or what we refer to as "Hell Weekend"

 

thank you all for your kind words about my last posts...I felt so much better after reading them.

xoxo

 



Still processing

 

I am still filtering through the anger and hurt that my family bombarded me with.

The lingering residue that I have made bad decisions is what I am trying to scrub off.

 

Some choice sentences that I am working on letting go of are:

 

We are so greatly disappointed.

 

You can use my uterus

(a loving gesture, but when offered after almost 10years and from behind a glass of wine.

 It is hard to not see it as really a selfish plea)

• " You should be sympathetic to your friend, she must feel so guilty for being able to get pregnant so easily. Especially when you couldn't, I mean that must have really hurt her"

• "you can have my kid"

My response: there is a joke saying, if you keep offering me your kid I will show up at your door with a lawyer and adoption papers.

" I am serious, I would consider it"

(ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME!)

• "Even though you are not a "fill in religious preference" like me, I know you are still a good person"
 
• "If you can get past a baby not looking like you, the adoption process is really fast and easy. You shouldn't close that door so quickly."
 
• "More grandchilden is always better"
 
• "Why don't you just have some more surgery and remove your problems and then use IVF and try again. The Barren probably wants that and is just afraid to tell you."
 
********

I remember saying at least four times,

"After 8 years and 3 miscarriages, we decided to stop the heartbreak. Adoption never fit our dream of parenthood or our belief system. Becoming parents was never about just "getting a child"

this was met by blank stares and "easy fixes"

I realize that a lot of what they were saying was really them grieving, their losses in this scenario.

I also realize that they made me feel horrible and like it was all my fault, which it is not.

 

I am very glad it will be a long time before I need to sit in the room with these ladies again.

They have a lot of issues to work out.

 

 

 

 

 



Currently Processing....

I was sitting alone on the porch of a rented home, listening to the rain, focusing on the person we were gathered to celebrate.

She died last October of rare form of lung cancer, never smoked a day in her life...

and would have been 47 years old this day.

My step Mother in law comes up and sits down in the chair next to mine. My SIL follows her and leans against a handrail on the porch facing me.

 

" The Barrens' father and I have kept quiet about how so disappointed we are that you and the Barren didn't adopt. You know we think you would be AMAZING parents....it is just too bad. You know you still can. I have a friend that runs an agency in San Francisco"

 

I turn to my SIL (The Barrens sister) who has now consumed over a bottle of cheap wine, her lips and teeth are stained purple. She begins to sob: " Have you two ever thought of having someone else carry your baby? It was so easy for me, I feel so badly that it was so easy for me and so hard for you"

 

I took a xanax after we got back to the hotel, it felt like I had been punched over and over again.

That damn Barreness snuck into the party and used others as her puppets

 

Choo Choo....

While laying in the dark last night, having a small panic attack.

The Barren and I were going over the myriad of family events

we are attending these next two weeks.

We are attending a HUGE family dinner tonight where I see one of my SIL, the one who NEVER responds to gifts, or gestures for her children.

I am working on releasing that anger/hurt

 

Then this weekend we attend what would have been the birthday for The Barrens cousin, she passed away in November from a rare form of lung cancer. She never smoked a day in her life.

The celebration site is located about 10hours from our home, so it requires us driving all day, to spend a day and then drive home so we can be back to work on Monday.

 

Then another birthday weekend celebration that has us driving to another location, a ranch for a weekend, where we celebrate my aunts 70th birthday.

It is more like being sequestered, as we are required to stay, eat with and partake in all pre-planned activities. We are only given cryptic clues as to what clothes we are required to bring,

and what we will be doing.

Fun for some, but based on our history...it is a mixed bag.

Past family events have been mildly OK, with healthy dashes of bullying you into doing things you'd prefer not to and berating comments about your food preferences or lifestyle choices.

So a typical family vacation.

For reference, the last time the family did this, we now all refer to the weekend as "Hell Weekend"

 

The ranch has horses, and although I would like to ride, I broke my butt a week and a half ago falling on the roller rink...

really, I think I cracked my tailbone, I have all the signs according to Dr. Google.

So I foresee a small battle on this one, like buck up and stop whining and just get on the horse.

 



There is a family photo involved too, as the clothing list requires we all bring a white shirt and a pair of levis (jeans).

The Barren and I were laughing at this because neither of us has a plain white shirt!

I was telling him how it made me anxious to think of a huge family picture,

but then I calmed myself by thinking, well at least they are not using it on the side of a bus or something.

So, my level of embarrassment can be controlled in a way.

 

Then in reflection of this photo I said to him, "hey we are the like the caboose at the end of the train."

Maybe we should make shirts, or refer to ourselves all weekend as Mr and Mrs Caboose.

The end of the line!

Awkward Silence

image via tumblr

 

So I had coffee with my friend.

She is the one that I/we are working with on rebuilding

the great break from years of broken fixes.

I have been making GREAT efforts to make sure I am always keeping in touch

or suggesting we have a weekend meet and catchup

It has been several weekends since we've been able to meet.

All these past weekends I have either sent a text or seen her and mentioned what a crazy full time this was or how we should figure a good time to meet.

We finally had a chance so we took it this morning.

In all honesty I am still a little gun shy, I always suggest we meet at the corner coffee shop and it allows for a fixed amount of time to sit and chat...in a public place.

I know now, that I should focus the conversation on her for the first half, or two thirds and smile a lot

I love hearing what is happening with her children and so I try and constantly take mental notes.

As she seems to round the corner of shared events, I shift some of the conversation to myself...sort of.

I can really only share some stuff.

I have found it works best when I don't share how I feel about my body...

or my deep sadness of my SIL being pregnant again

or my extreme happiness about how I don't have my days TOTALLY monopolized by another persons schedule.

or how I am kind of hung over cause the Barren and I were out drinking all night

haha

I can talk about my art, a little about my family, and what we are doing this coming week.

I have found that she tenses up when I mention other friends,

so I don't talk about them or name them.

It sounds really restrictive, but in a way it is very controlled.

As I age I have found there are friends and there are FRIENDS and sometimes we grow apart and change in ways that distance ourselves and then over time we can grow back towards one another.

 

But then there are silences in our conversations.

...and in my mind I am thinking

wow, my life is very different from yours and I can't relate.

It is a strange flip.

 

Meditations



I love to listen to Mahalia Jackson on Sunday, especially in the studio.

She makes me feel weepy and empowered,

strange combo but those are the closest words I can use to describe the way she moves me.

I feel like I can accomplish things and succeed.

 

I am still on a printing frenzy, I am taking it as a sign that I am working things out...in some way

I am very superstitious as you know, so I hesitate admitting this.

 

I am relaxing my timeline and expectations more and so far it seems to be working.

I wish you a happy Sunday, and hope sometime today you can find some peace with yourself

A smile, and a surprise

Let Mahalia sing into you...so sweet and inspiring

 

Trying this and that

Me: What cha doing today mom?

Mom: I am just going to piddle around the house.

Me: Um, Mom do you know what piddle means? It means pee...

Mom: ha, No I am not doing that, I am just finding things to do around here.

Me: OK, I just wanted to clarify.

 

I am trying some advice on for size to see how it feels.

In my effort to be a better me, find my way in this crazy world and try and not let shit get to me.

Like, this last week. My SIL is looking really preggers now, plus she is a bit moody-tudy too.

 

Every time I sit and talk with other Artists and creatives I always ask how their day is framed.

It is a way to see how the day starts and the creative process creeps in.

Some have very structured schedules:

between 8 and 9 I do this,9 and noon that, etc...

Some start with house errands, or a list of deadlines...

Interesting enough, almost everyone I have spoken to that works from a home studio says

"I take the dogs for a walk and my day forms there"

Well, I don't have dogs, and I can fairly certainly tell you my cats are not big motivators for extreme walking...

"hey you, lady, come feed me so I can settle into a nap"

 

 

So this morning after feeding the cats and making sure their lives were attended to,

I went for a walk.

Just until I broke a sweat, and then I would head home.

(small steps, but with purpose)

I was out for about half an hour

 

 

I didn't get a lot of thinking done, just some ooh look at that shadow...it cleared my head for sure!

I am going to try it again

maybe incorporate it into my daily morning routine...

it will keep me away from morning news and over time I am sure it will kick start the

list/organizer thing in my head.

 

On my way home I swung by the local small coffee shop for a bagel

$2.25: for a bagel, un-toasted in a bag, no cream cheese

I am still figuring out her price matrix for that one...but I was able to snap-up the last "power bagel"

well, I think she only buys two...so I was lucky today.

 

I am currently printing...I am thankful for that.

 

Friday

 

It is Friday!

I met with a local painter yesterday...it is on my list of things to shake up!

 

Step two:

Get out and socialize, step out of your comfort zone

I know the painter I met with, in a casual sort of way.
You know when you are familiar with someone because you frequent their stall at farmers market, say hello and how do you do. The person you always seem to get at the coffee shop.
You know them but haven't had a meal with them kind of know.

She is someone like that.
She is amazingly talented, about 13yr my junior and making it as an artist and designer.
In all fairness she also knows me about as well too.
We are far more familiar with each others work then each other.

We agreed to meet at a coffeeshop in the town between my home and work...she told me the name,
 I knew the place and agreed.
I arrived a little early because I wanted to seem cool and relaxed by the time she arrived, and so I ordered a chai, opened my current list book (book I am making to-do lists in) and relaxed.

Taking in the scene:
Be cool, you are cool enough to be here
Boy, there are a lot of yoga people here, everyone looks like models
I don't feel so cool right now
That table is talking codes and meta links, I kind of know what they are saying
Hummm that one looks like Justin Timber...
ohh I know this song, I like this album.
OK I am cool enough again
I feel like I am looking for a blind date, looking up at everyone that enters this place...
focus on your list
Sipping chai...mmmm
Wow there are a lot of laptops in here
Ohhh check out that guys mood medallion, it is huge but not overly sooo
I should try their chocolate chai next time....
What time is it?
*
Then the text came :  looking forward to meeting with you today
I texted back I was waiting for her.
She said I am here where are you?
I, it turns out, was at the wrong coffee shop.
I was at the original location, she was at the newest.
I blew it!
I told her I would be there in a moment.
I gulped the top third of my chai, leaving the rest to be thrown down the drain and
my calm eroded as I walk/ran to the car three blocks away and drove to the correct location.
By the time I arrived, I was a half hour late!
ugh
Comfort zone shattered- check

I am never that late person, but today I was.
She was gracious and we ended up talking for an hour and a half.
I got to learn about her process and her other businesses, she has two others besides her painting.
It is funny to hear highly productive people say how they wish they were more organized or better at scheduling. We talked about personal goals, exchanged website inspiration and simply shared some time. We giggled with guilt at how unusual it feels to meet someone in the morning at a coffee shop, on a studio day and wondered if it fed the stereotype of what people think artists do all day.
We both then commiserated on how much work we actually do to get our work seen.
She had multiple client meetings so we visited as long as we could.
It was a good morning, didn't start out as calm as I had hoped but it ended that way.
I also know a little more about her making our next chat that much easier.

Things learned:
Triple check addresses of agreed meeting places
Be kind to yourself when things go wackadoodle, it isn't always bad
Try a chocolate chai, if you are gonna spend $5 on a drink make it a splurge
You are doing just fine...keep on keeping on




Meanwhile...

I spent several days last week in the studio....after the monumental amount of rejections this year, I hatched a new plan/battle-cry to sit down, focus and not look up until I had blown the dust out of the corners and was making things again.

It didn't matter what I was making, as long as I was making!

I have let go of the list of goals for this year, and have started a new list.

Clearly, my first ideas were not right, so I am off to allow the correct ones to present themselves.

 

 

Step one:

I signed up for a figure drawing open studio class.

It is a two hour period, that I have access to a model, and can just sit and draw.

No teacher telling me if this or that is right or wrong.

Just me in a mind space of drawing and no judgement.

A gift of time to do or not do whatever comes to me.

 

I have been in figure drawing classes since I was in high school. A couple friends and I had special permission to leave school to take college drawing classes and then return to school for the rest of our classes. It was a great introduction to the freedom outside the high school walls and we felt far more mature than our classmates. After all we got to sit and draw naked people for credit.

Before heading into the lab, I texted a friend that I took classes with back in the day, telling her I was anxious about drawing...she sent back a text

" just like the ol' days, watch out for the crazy penises"

 

Let me explain:

When I had taken my first class, I had not seen a man naked up close before.

I was 16 or so and although my BF was adorable and ready to strip at a moments notice we never got

completely naked with each other.

Ahh the mechanics of high school love

 

So in one of the first classes, a male model sat down in front of me,

spread eagle and posed for an hour.

Some would say he was simply sitting....I think he was showing off.

 

I was taken aback and was acting as cool as I could.

Sharpening my pencil, looking for the right charcoal...looking at lines of the body...

but I could hear my friends giggle behind me and we were all trying our best to be

mellow and all copacetic with the scene, you know...

 OWN the fact that we were there for a reason and a purpose.

 

Well I drew, and as I got to his crotch his penis moved.

Not huge amounts like a sword battle, more like it rolled this way and then when I came back to that part of the drawing it had moved another bit...so I erased the first position and re-drew...well this went on for another half and hour.

Needless to say, by the end of the pose, it looked like something exploded in his crotch.

my poor drawing.

My instructor just smirked and said nothing.

I was mortified and vowed to never sit that close again...I never have.

Needless to say, that day created a reputation for myself amongst my peers and NOW we all joke about the penis with  the mind of its own.

 

I have a million figure drawing stories...that one just mostly set the bar for the next 25years

 

The figure model at my most recent class; she works at my local grocery store and spent a good portion of the time chatting while posing.

She had been stacking apples all day.

 

Thankful Thursday

 

 

This article is hitting the internets today, and I am thankful someone in the fashion world

has their eyes open.

Although I think these models are FAR from Plus size, I am thankful that some stores are actually displaying them as options for shoppers.

I know I would feel a hell of a lot better about myself if I saw these instead of the

pre-puberty bodies often displayed:

 

image via: I am bored

 

HERE is the link to the article

Road Block

I am currently trying to work through this "block",
working hard at it...and trying all my tricks.

Work around it

step aside

let it be there
Be sad
Be happy
cry
laugh
eat everything in the house
drink tea
take a walk
deep breathing

but I am still trying to crack the right code....

I will keep trying, something has to work eventually:
 

via Twisted Sifter

Beautiful Butterfly

 

 

OK so after crying in the coffee shop while talking with a friend...

I got to work in the studio and here I am up to my elbows in ink.

Working...struggling and recovering from a lot of emotion it appears.

 

My SIL announced via and ultrasound image on facepuke, I thought I was ok, but not really.

It hit me...it surprised me, but I am working through that...I got drunk last night to also celebrate the most rejection letters in a month I have ever gotten....quite a feat!

 I am at 75% of my submissions for the month.

sigh

 

I was awoken this am, by my bank texting me that my debit card was being used suspiciously...ironically they bought a bunch of anti-identity thief stuff online. sigh

All seems calm again...but really....I think I forgot my umbrella for the amount of shit that is flying right now. So I am hunkered down in the studio...pushing myself thru the sludge of stagnation and plan on rewarding myself by getting some plants to yardbomb the neighbor tonight.

Karma yoga...do for others.

 

So back to the press I go....and then onto the next thing and the thing after that.

I continue to move forward...moving, laughing at fear, anger and frustration.

you silly adjectives 

I will emerge from this a beautiful butterfly....or a funny looking moth.

Either way I will have wings!

Oscar stabbing-Fluff

***warning this is a fluff piece*****

I searched high and low for a film clip, but alas the Youtubes let me down.

 

I was watching the pre-Oscar show that highlights all the superficial elements of the Oscars...how people look and the diamonds and gowns and who knows who....anyhoo.

 

Giuliana Rancic was debuting her new " look at me" shorter hairdo in time for the Oscar's and was all aglow when she spied Reese and was so overcome with girlcrush and envy you could almost make out her green eyes...Her commentary suddenly turned and she made Ryan Seacreast ask Reese what  the secret was of her AMAZING hair.

Reese overcome with pride and glee said to tell Giuliana:

" I just had a baby, and it makes your hair amazing, you know what that is like"

 

As professional as she was, Giuliana could not hide her dropped jaw/pained face

 at Reese's caviler response.

No pretty gown, new hairdo, adoption or money could fix it.

As much as she bugs me, and has been IF insensitive herself post adoption,

 I felt for her at that moment.

 

 

I could only find this reference to the question and answer online:

 

Reese Witherspoon wore bombshell waves and her signature blue eyeshadow. Oh, and she told Giuliana Rancic her secret to such voluminous hair (other than Renato, the same guy who styled Jessica): "I just had a baby! I'm not looking forward to when you lose all the hair after the baby."

 

 

You Hip-Hop, and you don't stop

OK so it has taken about a week post period to feel like me again...What a living HELL that was.

In the wake of my latest Barreness kick-assing, I am feeling puffy, but ready to get back onto the path that makes me happy.

 

I am currently in what I can only assume is an artistic block.

I was feeling this coming on but figured I was just distracted with getting things in order, and a little new years organization fervor.

 

In reality....

I think the last three rejections to exhibitions have been a hit to my sense of creative self...I am use to rejection, it is part of the exhibition process...but I guess these last three in a row have been a little harder to step over.

For a short period of time I was ready to open the paper, dust off the traditional resume and hit the pavement, but instead I found myself curled around the ipad, reading the deadline websites for art exhibitions.

So I know I am suppose to keep making art,

I just need to find the rhythm to start jumping rope again....

 

I'm making The Barreness jump with me now!

 

I met a friend for tea and I had brought my folder of exhibition information with me, I had arrived a little earlier then our planned time and wanted to keep my brain in the game.

I keep the submission information for upcoming opportunites all in binder that has them in due date order and then shipping and submission information following.

This way I can see the constant timeline in action.

Keep a fire under my ass

She spied it and asked what it was, I showed her the current stack of information I was sorting through.

She was floored and said: you just submit over and over?

Me: All year long, it is all I can do.

It sounded strange but it is true, I am the mistress of my destiny now.

 

As Conan said:

"If you work really hard, and you're kind, amazing things will happen."

 

I am working for my amazing!

 

Rocks, and sticks

image via vintagegal

I wanted to post all week, in fact I was so sure that my week off was gonna go smooth I "played hookie" on Tuesday when I felt a little worn on waking for work.

I imagined spending a week making art, and honoring my body's needs. 

I was sluggish and wanted to be kind to myself.

It was the calm before the storm to say the least!

By Tuesday night I had cramps but no period, so I went out with girl friends to distract myself.

I had a glass of wine, shared some time and by the time I got home I was spent...I figured it was any moment before good ol'Flo was gonna show up...but no.

Wednesday I was even more tired and crampy but I kept on trying to distract myself and made some food for a friend in need and delivered some valentines locally. By the time I got back from that little outing I was shaking from pain, and my period had finally started. I took my normal 12hour pain pill and figured all would be taken care of in an hour and I was good to go.

Boy was I wrong...

The next four days were spent sweating, shivering, cramping and calling a pharmacist to see what pain pills could be taken together. I soaked in tubs, walked in circles, curled into fetal balls, and whimpered a lot.

I repeated a mantra: I am thankful for my Frankenstein ovary, I am thankful for my angry uterus.

I can feel all they are capable of, and I am thankful for that.

 

No romantic valentines days here, I had a migrane and such severe breakthru pain, I passed out after taking a Norco. I scared The Barren well enough that he stayed home Friday to make sure I was alright, as what he saw was familiar of times past.

I was scared and worked really hard on not visualizing every ovarian and uterine catastrophe possible. I then vocalized each of those to diminish their power, and laughed in their faces...while crying. I think The Barreness was cooking up some party games for me.

Yesterday, was the party to announce my SIL pregnancy to the family. I was prepared, and mostly comfortable enough to wear something other then PJ's, my period seemed to have stopped and I could see the light at the end of the tunnel....but The Barren was not on board I found.

He was grumpy and sad and concerned.

As lovely as the news is, it is also the reminder of what we got overlooked for.

We left a little early and after the announcement, and headed home.

I was cramping again, and bleeding again.

We sat and watched Downton, and headed to bed...then after a night filled with discomfort, I awoke with extreme stomach pains...

I sent The Barren to work, texted my work that I was sick AGAIN and faced this alone.

Turns out I got some food bore something, and was about to spend the next few hours buckled in pain, and moaning on the toilet.

Before The Barren left, I was groaning and staying "pull up those straps girl...it will pass."

Then it became, "This is temporary, it will be over soon."

To finally: "I am broken, this is what it feels like to be duped, this is how you break a spirit."

 

Around 8:30am, after three hours of groaning, my mother called: "what's going on? I thought you were feeling ok"

Me: crying, and whispering " I feel totally broken, I have been insulted and made a fool"

I couldn't help but remember the words from the doctor, after the surgery...You'll be pain free for 6 months at least after surgery..(off the pill). You'll be so much more comfortable.

I am ok once the pill is in my system, but this transition, this first cycle was terrifying, painful, and insulting. I bled out of my clothes again, I was soooo bloated I couldn't put on my pants, I was on heavy pain pills again and totally not functionable. I felt like a child....

I tried to comfort my dear Barren by saying, in the last three months, I have had surgery, gone onto hormone pills and that is a lot of adjusting in a short time. How can I not expect my body to react.

I get kicked a lot by life, but I'm a tough cookie and I always come out the other side.

It seemed to work for him.

I just need to convince myself now.

Laughter...and space

So yesterdays post was heavy, I sat in it all day and went to bed with it.

This morning, I took my time waking up at 5:30am-into a rolling blackout for my area.

I couldn't open the garage door"easily" so I lingered in bed and whispered with The Barren, until the lights came back on. Then I got into the shower...washed my hair and got dressed for a day of work.

No earth shattering big moves or discoveries except I did it. I chose to keep moving forward...I dozed on the way into work as The Barren drove and got an almond crossant to eat with tea for breakfast and then started work.

I did that....continued to move forward.

I did some work and then found this on a blog I read about artists and it made me laugh, and feel ownership of myself and my work.

“I’m in my late 40’s, I’ve got nothing to prove, so I’m going to make whatever the fuck I want.”
 http://inthemake.com/randy-colosky/

I have nothing to prove, I just need to move and make what I am overwhelmed to.

simply plan, simple road to happiness

 

I am currently obsessed with this song, I feel like a monkey listening to it, bobbing up and down

to the beat....so dance my fellow monkeys, dance!

 

Bumpy, frumpy

I think I have hit a bump...I am feeling a little blue.

Like something is missing or I have forgotten something.

I have chosen to not wash my hair daily...my body yes, but not my hair...which means

I get to create new and exciting hairstyles to hide the shiny look.

Why? because I just don't seem to have it in me.

*sigh*

 

I went to my women's business meeting last week, only to find that only one other woman could make it. What is normally a night of professional conversations about work and goals and business objectives; ended up being an hour and a half of me listening to this dear woman, spill her heart out all over the table and onto the floor.

She is no longer happy with her long term relationship, she maybe wants to have a baby, she turns 30 this year. She told me about her childhood, the death of her parents, the journey to where she is now. The journey she hopes to take to find an old flame and see if there is something still there.

She wants to change the course of things...and amongst these gems, she also told where to find and how to ask for the town gigolo's services.

A fountain of information! I came home with half the salad I had ordered and exhausted!
When The Barren asked how the night was, I just said, I am still processing it.
It was intense, but a wonderful reminder that no matter how together someone looks, we are all dealing with demons and decisions and heartbreak daily.
 

In an effort to and shake up my blues,

I went to the farmers market, something I use to do religiously and got great joy from. I know exactly when to go so the place is not filled with strollers or toddlers with fruit juice running down their arms grabbing for any hand that looks like mom or dad's.
I talk with the farmers, I buy fresh local food...I smell the greens and sometimes get a new plant for the patio. I hadn't been in a LONG time and it was sweet that the farmers still recognized me and asked where I had been. I took far too much cash, as I spent it all !
Not bad on a scale of bad things...but still no control and maybe a little compensation for sadness.

Once home I upended my studio AGAIN and have now made great strides in organizing it, I tore up piles of images that were bad (not a critique of the work, but literally, had ink smudges on them or bad printing or some other technical problem that makes them un-showable or sellable)
It was liberating and freed up some much needed space!
But I am still procrastinating and finding time ticking faster and faster.

I need to make new work...I am stuck and distracted.

 I also know that a little someone is laughing at me, knowing that something is around the corner....

I have my first cycle since the surgery next week and I don't know what to expect.

 The unexpected looms large...Fear and Pain are sitting and waiting for their name to be called.

 

Also almost like a trinity, this week is also the birthday of my goddaughter.

She was born two days before Valentines day, and after I spent 26hours at the hospital with her mother watching her come into the world, while hiding my INCREDIBLE period pain from all there...pain that got me into the ER days later and sedated into a pain free state. Only to realize that my ovary was about to explode. Her mother and I had been trying to get pregnant at the same time...except she was and I wasn't, again.
Sadly this beautiful child's birth reminds me of all that too!

*sigh*

I have to figure out how to get my feet free and tap dancing these bumps away.

Laughter and tears

Did you ever have that moment when a friend or family member suddenly shifts their appearance and looks like someone all together different and you find them very funny, or scary or foreign?

 

I don't know this person, but I found this little video today and I was rolling with laughter at how wonderfully he can shift his appearance and become someone else.

He entertained me, scared me but mostly distracted me.

Sometimes you just need some cheap thrills, and this was it for me this morning as I was trying to keep my eyes open and focus on a workday ahead of me:

 

http://www.wimp.com/dramaticlipsync/

 

 

I send laughter, and wonder your way today

Broken Hearts Club

I heard this amazing interview on NPR a month or so ago and it was inspirational.

I have put a link to hear the whole story yourself below

 To summarize, it is about a museum that only houses what is left behind from a relationship.

There are always things left behind after a relationship ends, that for some reason we hold onto.

Letters, or a shirt or a photo or REALLY random things like a cup the ex-loved one use to drink out of every morning or a photo they hung on the wall for you.

I thought this story was going to be horribly, sad but the longer I listened the more beautiful it became. There are sad stories don't get me wrong, but there are also sweet memories that are now gone with the person.

Like the woman who sends a flashing light for the dog they use to share,

so it doesn't get hurt when it walks at night.

I have kept things from old relationships, I am a collector by my nature, so it seems counter nature to get rid of some things...but then there are baby things.

 

This story made me think about a museum for us...a museum to send our last little things that we are ready to let go of. A ribbon, or a blanket that was sent to us.

(my mother keeps a blanket that was made for me for my baby)

 

I fear that, that collection would be ONLY heartbreaking.

So until then, we can focus on someone elses heartbreak.

 

Below is the narrated story and a link to the real place, in case you are traveling nearby and want to stop in. I would imagine it would be quite cathartic.

http://www.npr.org/2012/02/14/146853343/croatias-museum-of-broken-relationships

http://brokenships.com/

Easy as 1,2,3

Last year the Earl and his wife suffered a miscarriage. I was the first person they told when they got a positive test and the only call when things were not looking like it was going to last...The Earl, desperate to help his wife asked me to ask my IF "friends" if any of them had taken this hormone or that hormone and what the chances were of it helping stop a miscarriage. I was touched that he felt this close to me and I was heartbroken for them as the pregnancy ended and I could offer no help to stop it.

About two months ago, I got a call after dinner from The Earl again. "It looks like she is pregnant again. I suggested that she wait to tell anyone about it until it was much farther along this time." Last time she was 6weeks along when she told friends at a dinner out, within a week she lost the pregnancy.  I told him congratulations as I hung up the phone and thought of their other two children at home....how the youngest was now possibly going to be a middle child.

The Earls wife comes from a line of woman who enter menopause in their late 30's. One sister had a child as a teen and now is unable to have another, and the other is in the middle of multiple years of IF treatments to create a family of their own. So the fact that the Earl's wife had gotten pregnant in her mid 30's twice in this last year was surprising on it's own.

Yesterday I picked up the eldest from school, with the younger one in tow, as The Earl and his wife went to the doctor for the 11 week confirmation ultrasound. I was asked to help because if our mother caught wind of a Dr's appointment she would ask a machine gun line of questions that they didn't want to answer yet. So I was the confidant again.

When the appointment was over and they came to pick up the children, they had no reactions on their faces. There were others here, and they were not able to speak freely or openly. None the less, it made my mind wander to the dark places, and  I imagined the worst scenarios....chemical pregnancy, ectopic pregnancy...still child.

Once the room was cleared and the children were shuffled away and en route to home with the Earls wife; The Earl showed me the ultrasound. In it, a kicking moving thing that looked like a baby kangaroo...flickering shimmering heart. I could hear the voice of the ultrasound tech, high pitched and giggly. I turned to The Earl and said  "that is what an tech sounds like when you have a baby in you? They sound so happy. Wow I never got to hear that..." He didn't say a thing....but maybe at that moment realized what this was like for me. I hugged him and said congratulations again and packed up my things to head home.

They made it look so easy.