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 

Slowly churning

***babble***

OK so we visited the baby and his mama is calling him by the nickname I had dreaded....I have found myself calling him baby, or his full given name. She is being very empathetic when we are there. Making sure it is only us and not a crowd or others that would be oohing and aaaahing.
She told me to tell her when I was ready to hold him, and that she won't ask again if I want to hold him. I thought that was incredibly kind.

So that helps.
In many ways I am thankful to not have to be there emotionally (new mother) at this point in my life. I am less raw, but still tender...if that makes sense.

I have been focusing on the upcoming gallery season and making as much art as I can muster.

I have even requested a day off so that I can just do my work for another day; not having to switch my brain from one job to another. Even skipping yoga in the morning to make it a full run.

 It took over two years, but I now know the names of several people that I have been in class with, as I introduced myself and they in turn have done the same.

We are far from friends, but friendly and it is so much nicer to say someones name when you say good morning. At least I like to say it that way, it acknowledges that I see them and that for at least that moment in the day you are not invisible.

One of the ladies is a mother of two, and when I first met her declared that she loved her kids but they drove her insane sometimes....I laughed and assured her that I held no judgement of her, in fact I respected her honesty.

She friended me on social media and mentioned recently that her husband brought home pet rats when he was out picking up the kids from soccer practice. I chimed in that pet rats were great pets for kids and that she might find them to be adorable after a little time.

She responded that when I choose to have kids she'd get me a couple for a baby shower gift.

I was taken aback and sort of rattled by her response....I know she was being funny...but it is frustrating and pathetic that after all these years I have to conscientiously, remember to have a sense of humor about things sometimes. How sad is that.

After all this time a wounded person shows up first and then I have to remind them that we are not wanting the pain anymore, so put on a party hat and remember to smile.

Ugh....

lifelong remnants of infertility

I am also finding myself looking at my body in the mirror with less anger...and more acceptance

I wonder what will happen when I enter menopause, how will it change

I wonder if it is stronger than before, even when I feel stronger I wonder if I really am.

I am more thankful for the way my body moves now and in fact so thankful that I just bought myself a pair of shoes that are good for my feet! I usually get the cheap pairs in BOGO sales and half of them eat holes into my ankles and others just leave me with throbbing heels after the day is over. 

My knee has been bothering me and aside from sleeping with a leg brace, and being VERY aware of how I move it I started thinking maybe my years of cheap shoes are catching up...so I got a pair of Earth shoes and will use them instead of my go to flip flops and knockoff Toms

What a grown up idea....

I have a lot of hopes pinned on this seasons' gallery time, in fact I am doing the crawl tonight and wearing a dress and putting my mind in the right place for talking and smoozing.

The Barren has work commitments, so I am going it alone.

I have been submitting still, and waiting while trying to not think about waiting for results.

I have been trying to let my brain stretch, and wander...

explore new processes and concepts.

I have been trying to remind myself that this is it...there are no do-overs with today...it is here and now and I need to make the most of them.

I feel like I am still holding myself back and I wonder why I am not allowing my self to walk to cliffs edge or jump higher or stay longer or dive deeper....

Do you find yourself holding yourself back, unconsciously?

I wonder if it is left over from years of IF or simply who I am?

Everyday I am trying to crack the code...and make sense of this all

Making white noise

So the very pregnant friend had her baby on Monday.

It was a boy, turns out the name they picked out was also the same name The Barren and I had selected for our wished one. It is not a common name so when I heard that was the name selected for a boy I did my best to hide my emotions and possession of the name,

When they announced that they would shorten the name to Gus I was relieved as that is not the love name we have used to shorten the given name...we had picked auggie.

Well, this morning she posted on social media that

 "Auggie was off to see the doctor for the first time since breathing air"

My heart sunk again and now I am struggling with hearing a name that I had held so deeply

and so silently in my heart for years.

How do you give away the name? 

Allow it to float away from your heart and the dreams that you had to say it to your own?

I have yet to visit...I am not sure I am ready yet.

They live just across the road so we can't use distance as a reason for not being there yet.

Until I am ready, more stable on m feet and in my heart.

I will make white noise and hold off

hold my heart

whisper my wishes

a musical interlude

I love this

it whispers to me somehow

I can still hear it over my 

everyday chaos

Today, tomorrow and many years ago

Today is the 11th of September

it is a big number here in the states.

It leaves me a little unsettled.

I was working at a company that distributed maps when the actual events unfolded 

and for the next year and a half my life was totally changed.

First we got calls from the military 

asking what we were selling and who could buy it.

Then we got calls from the news agencies from all over the world.

Then calls from military families often crying on the phone line asking, 

where these countries

 were that their loved ones were going to.

There were times when we had to call the FBI 

as some calls were requesting very specific kinds of details on maps.

Those were hard and scary.

I know it was best that I walked away from that job when I did.

I was scattered and emotionally spent.

Then in 2006, on this same day
before sunrise, 

and with heavy labored inhales I watched the final breath

 of my beloved grandmother.

She was in her bed, surrounded by family, completely on her own terms.

I had visited and spoken to her two days before.

We just told each other over and over that we loved each other.

It is a beautiful memory above the heartbreak.

This morning, before the sun rose

I got up and shimmed myself into my yoga clothes.

I drove into town for class and watched the sun rise as I 

took deep purposeful breaths with her in my heart.

She died from her lungs filling up...so every time I think of her last moments 

I try and send full complete breathe to her.

I always imagine that would have been the most compassionate thing to give.

A deep breath.

Tomorrow is my nephews birthday, he was born a year later

Life goes on

and on

Being a grown up

So with this crazy lull in my work at the second job and my sluggish progress with my art...I am left with distractions on EVERYTHING else in life.

I had set up an IRA when I left my last traditional job and thought that over time it would work like a saving account and grow a little money over time, like dust but in dollars. 

With distractions running amuck, 

I figured I'd spend some time trying to dust it off and get it gathering more funds.

I went to set it up and then discovered that I hadn't logged in since I set it up almost 7 years ago...

so I got to speak with people on the phone that sound like they just got out of high school.

When the guy on the phone asked what my goal was, I explained that I wanted to add a little money to "water the account" and 

by the way what is the minimum monthly investment for auto-deposit?

He told me and I told him that I was pretty sure that was doable.

He asked what other investments I had.

I (didn't laugh out loud) but instead said this is the whole enchilada.

I am a working artist, so this is what I have been able to squirrel away.

I could hear his voice change as he understood he was not talking to someone who had money but instead someone who had a LONG way before calling this a retirement account.

He was kind and mellow and is sending me a dictionary worth of information to read.

I can't stand being a grown up sometimes!

Other times there are benefits like eating whatever you want 

and staying up way past your normal hour

 or 

drinking

I wonder if things would have been different if  there was a kid in our lives?

I doubt it.

It takes us forever to make choices, 

our friends often giggle at us because of it.

Here are some examples:

We have still not painted any of our walls since this place was built in 2003.

The Barren wants to paint a sunrise to sunset on the ceiling from one side of the house to the other...
I don't. 

We had paint chips taped to the walls for 6 months...but never revisited the idea of color.

We are all about resuscitating things, when we have bought new things they end up not working well for us, so I think we are gun shy at jumping in with both feet.

We got a new mattress two years ago and about 7 months in, it developed a ridge right below the pillow line, like it exploded under the surface...sigh.

It still works as a place to crash, but we feel like we made a bad choice.

We need a new screen door, our beloved kitty bent the frame when he crashed into going after a little bird on the patio. We have nursed it to realign the wheels and pop it back onto the track over and over and over again.

We need a new dishwasher, so last November we pulled it cleaned it, replaced all the hoses and put it back to use....it still works but it needs to be updated for sure. when it runs it is so loud you have to leave the room to have a conversation because it is so loud.

This grown up thing is overrated.

Do you ever feel like, Fuck it I just don't want to deal with this and it won't kill me or anyone else if I just don't deal with it today or for a while...?

I feel like that today.

I am cooked with this grown up thing.

amazing video

<!-- BEGIN TUMBLR FACEBOOK OPENGRAPH TAGS

I saw this on:

http://thee-arabella.tumblr.com/post/127762789045

(Source: swansong-willows, via jesuseyes)

and had to share it
Amazing footage!

I have a problem

* I ramble again but I think you can find some enjoyment 

amongst the words and photos*

OK it started with this dress...

well actually this one:

same style but with a different flower pattern

I got these off an online bidding site...I had to alter the darker ones sleeves, as I have broad shoulders and so the little elastic bands in the sleeves drove me nuts, so I removed them and now the sleeves don't pucker and make wearing it a bit more comfy.

Then I got the butterfly dress...and I mean how could I not get a dress with butterflies on it?! and it was not overtly "girlie" and an olive color works well with my pale, pale skin.

Turns out those little sleeves were cut into my arms just above the pits...so I took them off and re-hemmed making it a sleeveless number. It has a PLUNGING neckline, which is new for me, but it arrived quickly and was timed perfectly as I had just gotten

 my annual mammo and breast ultrasound and got word all looks good, so I looked at it as a great way to celebrate that I get to keep my breasts for another year.

Last couple of years have been hard watching and learning that so many of my girlfriends were loosing their breasts and lives to breast cancer, so the annual mammo has caused me rethink how I look at my annual exam. Once that letter comes that all is good, it is a celebration of breasts.

Then a series of babies were/are expected so I dove back into the sites and got the 

"totally 80's" dress with dolman sleeves.

I most likely would have worn this in Jr. high school had I had my druthers...but being 45 is just as good, plus it fits perfect and I love how it references my art with its graphic contrast design.

Then this last week I found this lovely blue puppy...contrasting patterns and sleeveless design (no sleeves to remove or struggle with), it was easy to see that I needed to add this one to the options.

I tend to buy dresses when I get stressed it seems...or when I am trying to avoid something or when I want to feel something bigger than that moment.

I have been working these last two weeks on a project that is HUGE, and I am doing it in collaboration with three other ladies. It is unpaid for the time being, and there is a lot of work for me to do (in fact I am avoiding some of it now) but the promise of a bright future is there and I am appreciated for the work I am doing. All that said, it is very stressful, and then there was some fun vagina issues that reoccurred and made for another stressful week...and then there is my second job that is always a crap-shoot of stress and tension and new experiences. So I have been under some real tension and that mixed with babies and artwork being made, but not leaving my bossom coupled with The Barren traveling a lot for work and me coming into a thick time of year for the second job...and the home aging and us looking at the reality of needing new appliances and home upgrades to maintain our property value...and gallery season is around the corner....all this grown up stuff sucks, so I retreat into dresses.

I guess it could be worse and I go to cocaine or something.

I took the niece and nephew to get a few things for school this past week too. I had never done this before. Their parents needed a little help this year with clothes and shoes so we were happy to pitch in where we could.
My 8 year old nephew spent a total of 10 minutes shopping before claiming that he was done.
We were able to secure four shirts, two pair of pants, and a pack of socks before he slid under the shirt display and claimed he was hungry.
It was great...he pointed to the pictures in the advertisements of what he wanted, we grabbed them, paid and left to fill his belly with a mall pretzel.
His 11 yr old sister spent the morning making a list of items she wanted to add to her must have list, we walked into the store, she wanted everything she saw and I helped cull the crazed load of clothes to try on...then we came to the training bras...she said she needed another.
WE PICKED OUT A BRA!!!
I sat outside the dressing room trying to digest this milestone and trying to remember how old I was when I got mine. She asked what the padding was for...I told her that sometimes your nipples get really hard when it is a little cold and it feels better to have a little something to protect you from rubbing, she said she understood and said that it was super comfy.

Her main piece of clothing was a pair of denim overalls!
When I heard she wanted a pair, my heart almost exploded and I texted my bestie when she was trying them on....My bestie replied...those genes run deep!
(I wore stripped overalls (train engineer style, through most of college, and still have them tucked in the closet with paint stains well entwined into the fabric)
When she emerged from the dressing room all I heard running through my mind was
"Come on Eileen"

This was her first time out of leggings,
so she was trying to get use to the pants not clinging to her body.
She wanted to live in the outfit...it was awesome to witness her coming into her own self.

I guess we are both going through puberty together
she is entering it and I seem to be rediscovering it.

Still breathing

I am still here, just under a lot of thoughts and projects...

I will post soon, but until then, here is a gem for the start of the week:

wordless Wednesday

I've got loads to say....

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

Little gifts

I was getting my weekly hoard of avocados and stone fruit from farmers market on Saturday.

A quiet moving meditation for me.

It was hot already at 8am, and there was no wind.

so it was kind of muggy too.

I had heard on the news earlier, that the drought is so bad, that we would need significant rain for three years strait to restore the levels back to normal.

I go to the market to get the few gems that our CSA box doesn't provide.

The guy I get my stone fruit from reminds me of 

Jeff Spicoli 

He is really nice and sweet and sells KILLER fruit.

Almost every week there is a different variety of pluot, nectarine or plum to choose from.

I had paid the man for the fruit, and thanked him 

Turned to see a succulent vendor and stood in front of the rows of

pretty little plants all on display for sale.

The market was a buzz all around me...a low murmur of chatter and movement swirling 

on all sides of me....

I was just standing in silence deciding if I was going to get a plant to add to the ones at home, 

or pick up three more avocados.

I decided on two little plants and the man placed them into a little cardboard box, with some free potting soil and information paper on what they were and how to take care of them.

..and was handing me back my change

Just then, a drop

then another, then a crack and the sky split open and poured a waterfall of 

water downward.

People scrambled under vendor tents...

the succulent man was flustered that all his plant information paper was getting wet.

"my wife said, you don't need a tent, it will never rain"

I just stood there, looking up at the sky and smiling, laughing and saying out loud

What a wonderful thing this is

I must have looked mad

A silly smile across m face, drenched in cool raindrops

my shirt and skirt darkened from the new water.

My sandals filled with water and as I slowly walked away it was as though I had my own portable puddle to splash in.

People were huddled under the popup tents and the lady I get my dates from asked if I needed shelter from the rain...I looked at her, water running down my forehead and said

No thanks, it is just water, and it is wonderful to be in it

What a gift rain is

Keep on Trucking

OK

So my last few posts have been heavy and loaded with life crap

I am still in shock but, I finally got some good news

I submitted a portfolio of work that I had hoped :

" demonstrated a professional level of proficiency in the medium"

&

" Work that showed a consistent, well developed artistic vision"

I had waited years to submit to this group, 

they hold very high standards and quite frankly, 

I was intimidated to try until just now.

They are the oldest guild (of their kind) in the US, started in 1912

I had a "what the fuck" moment and submitted.

This year they also allowed online submissions and 

it saved me having to drive several hundred miles to submit my work.

Needless to say I was counting the days as the month grew longer 

and when the email finally arrived I was scared 

but, the first words were kind so I read further 

and it was a congratulations letter!

I told The Barren who in turn wanted to get wasted and hang from the ceiling....

but I was in shock so I told him I only needed a hug.

He was deflated...but gave me a hug.

I am still in disbelief.

I think after all these months of "No Thank Yous"

I am in disbelief that I possessed the ability to make something worthwhile

I finally let The Barren cheer for me and I had a little moment of cheering myself...

I did it.

I also made it through the annual 50,000 mile service update with the doctor.

It was low on drama and I was frank and forthright, and had a list.

I told her quite openly that my relationship with food had dramatically changed, 

and that most meals involve guilt and fear.

I told her that I think about everything I eat on a scale of  

" would the doctor think this was a right choice"

(How twisted is that! I know it is, but it doesn't stop me from thinking it still)

She looked concerned and after asking some basic do you smoke, how much do you drink, are you exercising questions, she tried to assure me that I am doing good, 

that I am in the right BMI (a number I do not believe in) 

and that I should keep on trucking. 

She also diagnosed me with Costochondritis

I have had this for almost a year and aside from feeling like " is this a heart attack?"

and some reassurances from women weightlifters

I was glad to hear that I wasn't in fact imagining it 

and I am NOT having heart attacks.

I had fasted for the appointment and by the time I left, I had to give blood too...

that was an hour of waiting and I was famished when I left...

there was a new vegan cafe I had yet to try 

so I was the first one in the door when they opened at 11am

(I had been up drinking water since 6am to plump up my veins so the vampire wouldn't miss)

 I had their "most popular" sandwich:

a vegan Ruben...after ordering it I wondered if I had made a good choice

mayo-ish stuff, cheeze-ish stuff, sauerkraut

first thing in my tummy for the day...

it looked like this:

watch out tummy here comes what I deem as breakfast

then it looked like this:

after I licked the plate

I wandered home, and did this:

It was a highly productive day

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

and it continues....

After reading another rejection letter today 

I stumbled on this and it made me laugh at myself...

I hope you all have a wonderful weekend, hiding from Father's day or celebrating yourselves!

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.

Tuesday thoughts....in pictures

How Do You Calculate Your 

Contentment as an Artist?

by Lauren Purje

I throw my hands in the air

I'm walking away

I love my parents.

I am close with them and thankful that they are here.

But sometimes...I don't like what they do

How they make me feel and that more often these days I think about how they will not be here forever.

I got a call from my mother at work this morning:

"Hi I am at the ER with our father. He had me take him here because he couldn't catch his breath"

I asked if I could come and sit with her while she waited with him for test results.

She said yes, so I packed up and left.

I met her in the waiting room and then we went into the bay my father was resting in.

They were waiting on the results of a CT scan to see if he had a blood clot in his lungs.

He was whacked out on Ativan and quite comfy and mellow.

He drives a lot for his job. Often sitting most of the day.

So checking for a blood clot made sense.

He has had a portion of his spine surgically fused due to deterioration and sometimes he swims...but for the most part my father likes to sit, eat really processed food, 

and not do much else if given the opportunity.

He has never been an exerciser, and thanks to pharmaceuticals, he can eat what he wants,
as the medicines do the hard work for him.

I sat and kept my mother company while he slept, the doctor finally came in with the results and said:

we did two EKG's and they are clear

We did blood work that looked for clots in your legs, and that is clear

We did a CT scan and that is clear of clots too

You didn't have a heart attack

so all tests look normal and clear

I think you might have had a panic attack, and I am prescribing a limited amount of pills for you to use when you feel the same symptoms again.

I do recommend that you don't drive long distances alone for the next few days

and I recommend a stress test to make sure all is clear and we have looked at everything.

I want you to run on a tread mill

( I saw my father go from happy to mad)

I asked the doctor if my father was clear to drive as a passenger this weekend for a work related event in a town three hours away, he said 

" Um, he is probably fine, but I would wait until the stress test results come in 

to do anything like that"

My mother was on the phone right away to the doctors office to schedule the test...

My father looked mad, 

I asked him what was going on, what you thinking about:

"I don't want to run"

I smiled and said, " well, that is not an option now"

I picked up the anti-freak out meds, while my mother took him home.

When I met them there, he was acting like nothing had just happened.

My mother was making french toast for him and he was looking at the bottle of pills. 

I told him that they were for easing the same symptoms he had before,
not to be taken for recreational use.

He said he was fine now.

I told him, you can't just shove it off, it was serious enough a moment ago, and that just doesn't go away. You need to take the doctors order seriously.

He said that they were still going on the business weekend away trip. I told him again what the doctor said and he said he was going.

I ate lunch with them (as they ate breakfast) and I said goodbye

I had said what I could, repeated doctors orders

and he probably will be fine if my mother drives...but FUCK

why do the rules not apply to him?!

I drove home and passed out/crashed on the bed for an hour

I still think I have PTSD from when my mother went into the hospital
I canceled plans for tonight and instead am watching TV and working this whole thing out here.

I have to walk away for my own mental health.
I have to realize that he is going to do whatever he damn well pleases and if (heaven forbid) something goes wrong he will blame someone or something other than himself.
I have to understand, I can not make everything OK all the time

Three Glasses...and some salad

**gloomy post***

I'll own it

I stayed at home all day for mother's day

Hiding, avoiding, and not feeding into the day.

I didn't get any calls, or cards or mementos 

I am not a mother after all

I did send cards to a few friends/family members wishing them a happy Mothering day.

It was easier to send the cards this year than it has been in the past.

I got them weeks ahead of time and so it was simply adding a few words of love and a stamp

My mother was home sick, so I didn't have the pressure of visiting her either.

Since then, I have been working slowly on my own work

doing practice as often as I can

fighting off colds/bugs by doing practice and sleeping.

I haven't been thinking about much really these days and I think that is an issue.

I am in a slump

I am fighting comparing myself to others

fighting self worth issues 

and body issues

I bowed out of a few social events recently, just saying I wasn't able to make them

and not going to them seemed easier than trying to pretend to be present.

This last weekend was a social one that I couldn't bow out of.

Starting with a girls dinner at a neighbors place.

I was anxious about going but I put on some mascara and went and played the mantra, 

have fun, relax over and over in my head.

I was relaxed and having fun, until the second group of ladies showed up 

and I realized that there was another full uterus, the hostess being the other.

Then another woman came in glowing and throwing her hand into everyone's face 

saying, hug me I just got engaged.

I looked at a friend and said, I think I'll take that glass of wine now.

She smiled and in my mind the place suddenly filled with pregnant women.

In reality there were two out of 10

As intoxication was reached, I participated in a dress swap and was able to get a lovely 70's disco queen dress that I had admired from a friend and she in exchange was gonna get a dress that was washed and now too short for my taste.

 Then a slow walk home, 

texting The Barren that I was drunk and walking home.

On arrival I fell onto the couch and The Barren arrived soon after, smiling and happy that I was drunk and in an OK mood.

Sunday was another social event, and I was super anxious.

I adore the women from this group but I always have this feeling that I am the fat girl

I get a once over (full body up and down glance) before the hug hello

it sucks!

I am meant to feel like I need to be doing more, making more, exhibiting more, being more aggressive or MORE....

I was the driver for this event, and so I only had a single glass of wine and salad

Socializing was mellow and free flowing but I became self conscience many times over when people asked about what I ate and didn't eat.

I remember saying at one point, I have a strange and treacherous relationship with food now.

I think I said it enough under my breath to avoid additional questions.

It is true though.

I try and enjoy what I eat, constantly making efforts to only eat and make healthy choices but recently most food has some measurement on a self imposed guilt scale. 

I fantasize about eating a chocolate croissant and a cup of black tea with sugar...or a poached egg in a bowl of noodle soup.

Ugh this all just sucks....

I need to find a way to escape this latest encampment in this place....

it isn't black and doom and gloomy

but thick enough to make me stop in my tracks.

Silent reminders

I am a big fan of Frida Kahlo and her work

She was an artist that unlocked my ability to be empathetic with and personally identify with.

I know she is quite a popular iconic image of woman now, but her story is often glossed over or only bits are highlighted. She was a rebel, a poet, an artist and a strong unapologetic woman.
Ones story doesn't need to be the same to be empathetic, it just resonates deep inside.

She contracted polio at the age of 6 and then at the age of 18 was horribly injured in a trolley accident and it left her with life long problems

including infertility.

I  remember seeing her painting in college and thinking I understand this pain...I understand her.

Her work is visceral and heavy and beautiful in expressing pain.

When I started to make work about my infertility, I often sought solace in the work she made. 

Almost like a mentor, a moral support cheerleader

I can be brave like her.

It is on my list to visit her home she shared with Diego Riveria

Every so often there will be an article about the museum finding things in the home, that they never noticed before...

recently they uncovered a whole room of Frida's belongings.

and they are now in museum displays.

It is a beautiful showcase of not only the woman's style, but her desire to decorate herself and her things....marking them as hers. Owning them.

It is eerie, but oh so beautiful

HERE are the best photos I could find of the recent displays

Aches and Pains

I had a pretty crappy nights sleep, 

between being a pillow/couch for the cats (that seem to triple their weight when asleep) 

and a couple night hot flashes it was a rough night.

I felt achy and sore and old.

I sometimes suffer from a ligament thing in my chest, where it feels like the fibers in my chest are being pulled away from my sternum and it makes simply having boobs painful.

This morning was one of those mornings. 4am and the alarm is going off next to the snoring Barren and I sat up and said my morning thank yous for waking up and pulled my butt and sore boobs outta bed, avoiding the bedside table that I have already walked into and gotten in impressive bruise from and the cats on the floor who now have been "activated" into feed me mode and started a new day.

I am trying another new thing...wake up and say thank you.

Start the day with gratitude....regardless of what lays past that in the road for the day....

start with a moment of  "wow, I woke up and I'm not dead today!"

I met with a friend the other day to talk about her ideas for her new business launch and how she would like me to help. She is an all around nutrition, exercise, massage, reiki master kind of gal.

She is re-inventing herself...re-imagining what she wants for this stage of her life.

I was mesmerized and in awe of how clear and sure she was...

I aspire to be clear like that for myself.

I am still treading through some murky waters...

but work every day to clear that fluid of grey matter.

She is tending for her mother who is deep into Alzheimer disease

She is still pleasant and able to have a conversation, she is not able to be alone

My friend has come to a point where she is trying to reclaim some time for herself, in preparation for a long road with a mother who might be around a while but is not aware of who she is at all anymore.

I also got a series of emails from another friend, telling me the horribly sad news of our mutual art  teacher from high school...we all hold him dear in our hearts and he just had a stroke that was triggered by his unknown fatal cancer.

Hospice is with him now and his wife has advocated for him to exit under his conditions.

They are a love story...

One their first date he brought her a corsage

she ate it

he was in love from that moment on

Ironically, someone asked them once why they never had kids, 

apparently they tried but had the RH factor and there was no treatment at the time.

Needless to say, I have had many calls in just as many days with my bestie...she and I were both his students and he is always in conversations still.

The friend that forwarded me the emails sent a sweet note to me that I think sums it up:

" I've had my fill of illness and saying goodbye recently. I'm realizing that 50 is really just the beginning of so many good byes. I treasure you dear friend"

I think we are experiencing growing pains

The aches and pains of reality as we are given this gift of aging.