I am wondering which way is up?

my garden is producing so many cucumbers

I have earmarked this week as a week that I stay put and try and make something! I miss making my work; thinking and trying to make the colors work or the concept appear as I feel it. it has been bumpy so far, focused time yesterday maxed-out at about 20 minutes, before calls, and emails and my brain just collapsed.

As of late, my life has been my parents...all engrossing, notes on the phone and scraps of paper. I drive into town at least once a week to deliver a couple prepared meals and make sure appointments are known and addresses are marked down. Remind them of what is required of them and how they should react to particular situations. I attend all the doctors appointments now, with exceptions for mental health care appointments and now my fathers in-home physical therapy.

I am the decoder ring. My parents don't absorb information and so I attend and answer questions that bubble up after we leave. Sometimes it was who did we just see and why?

My father finally was finally diagnosed with NPH , which in short, is extra fluid on the brain that doesn't resolve and leaves his brain compressed from the internal pressure. We saw a brain surgeon and she mentioned that he indeed has it and it appears it has been in place since his fall in 2024. She said that a valve could be placed in his brain to drain the excess fluid. She described the process and when she was done, my father said " you aren't gonna drill a hole into my skull!"  She said that he didn't have to have the surgery, but call her if he changes his mind. This is not a fatal disease, just a functional one. I suspect it was there before his fall but ignored or downplayed by his neurologist. It doesn't matter now how long he has had it, we are all going to have to live with it because he refuses to have surgery for it. Frankly, I am not sure he would be the best candidate for the brain surgery anyways...he would be required to do a lot of PT afterwards to recover from it and I don't think he would commit to it. So he will continue to be confuses, unsteady and experience funtional issues.

I made a promise to myself recently (in the last three weeks) that I would like to try and have a relationship with my parents and not spend my time fighting, bargaining and being run over. 

A friend of a friend mentioned this option with their children being picky eaters...they said, I could spend my time with then yelling and making them miserable or I could let it go and have a relationship with them. Most things work themselves out...I took this idea to heart when I was having a panic attack thinking of all the things I was trying to get them to do for their own good and falling flat and being run over, and snapped at. 

So now my voices' cadence is cheery, I don't debate, I don't engage with the bait to fight about something. I simply say "okay" and put down the conflict that is building.

My mother( the better of the two)  has become resistant and more forgetful, but it is hard to know if it is from her lack of sleep or lack of attention to what is being said to her. She seems to retain less and less and is procrastinating more and more. She cries on almost every phone call we have and says she needs help and then when it is offered, she snaps and says that we have overstepped and she doesn't want it. This usually means that she will reflect about it and a week or more later say she needs that help again and we will try again....except I think this time my mom might have burnt a bridge with my brother. Only time will tell....

So while all this swirls in my brain, I am trying to put it down and think about my studio practice. The Barren took the week off work and said he wanted to support me in my focused time: he said he would make me lunch and do laundry etc...so I would be less distracted with responsibilities; but has so far, he has not been home for most of the day. He leaves to play music with his friend late morning and comes back around 8pm, as this was his usual "music camp" week* (a week he takes off annually to attend music workshops etc...with his bandmate) I am glad he is relaxing and taking time to feed his creative vein. 

All this time alone is like still air, I am left to also make food and clean up and reflect on how far away I am from creating something. 

My heart is broken...I feel so afloat. I am used up in so many ways...

I try and find things that would lead me back to the path of thinking about my work: doing yoga early in the morning to kick start my brain, watering my garden to clear my head. Clearing clutter in the workspace....making food and writing down what might pop into my head...but I am having a really hard time not feeling so very dark. I am exhausted and often feel like I am dragging my body around from place to place. I want to sleep for days, but I can't justify it in my mind, I would waste all those hours of potential creative making. I am at a loss....and when things get that quiet, my parents creep back into my thoughts. Long lists of things I should do, need to do, need to call....it is everywhere.

I had a nightmare the other night that I was standing in traffic at a very busy intersection, and when I saw a muscle car speeding towards me I couldn't move. I froze in place. I felt the car wiz past me, I felt the air vibrated past me and I got knocked by the side mirror...but it also felt like it had hit me and I traveled through the car, feet cemented into place. I stood there and wondered if I was still alive. That is when I decided it was time to wake up and get the day to begin. 

There she goes

 It feels strange to write about a car. 

I donated my car on Wednesday to the Humane World for Animals. We have a newer car, all electric and my sweet girl had almost 300,000 miles on her. She was getting tired, was gonna need all her original hoses and boots and seals replaced. 

She was my ride or die for 21 years! I picked her out originally because I wanted a four door car that would be easier to put in and take out a car seat, had enough room for my father to sit comfortably in the back and had better safety features...airbags! Before her I had a 1985 Toyota Corolla that I purchased from my great aunt, that only made right turns,  and when I started driving 100miles round trip to and from work, my mechanic suggested I get a safer car and a cell phone.

I picked out my gal, no bells or whistles, just super standard features with airbags. The upgrades from the 1985 car was that this new one had air conditioning, airbags and a CD player! It still had roll down windows (in case I drove off a bridge, I could still escape my car) and buttons and knobs that required turning to find radio stations and such. She had 3 miles on her when we drove off the lot and I loved that car. When stuff got serious, not long after getting her, she was my safe space to rage scream, cry and yell at the world. No one was the wiser, she kept my secrets. We went on the occasional road trip, but I babied her. Drove my goddaughters to and from school, carried my niblings to and from overnights. Even transported them along with the dogs while we waited for word about the youngest being born. She carried me to and from infusions and errands and gardens. 

Gladly hauling bags of compost in her trunk.

She ferried us and the cats to safety when the fires had us evacuating to safer locations. She made it through floods and storms and all the while required very little. She was " middle grey", a color I chose as a nod to my photographic love. She was my first brand new car, I picked her out, financed her and she in many way equated freedom for me. Freedom of movement, freedom for choice...I could go anywhere...she was mine! 

So when we got the newest used car, it was time to say goodbye. I cleaned out my car that night, emptying it of all the little things she had collected over the years, Acorns and CDs and love notes and keys and coins. I ripped off the Band-Aid in many ways.... I was emotional ! I sat on the kitchen floor and cried. I turned ideas around in my head. I asked my brother if his kids would want her? " she would be the perfect car to learn to drive in " I loved the idea that an Aunt would pass on another car in the family...but my niblings said no, they did not have any interest in learning how to drive! 

I asked people at my yoga studio that had kiddos, no one needed a car. 

This broke my heart, but also made it possible to think beyond the present and instead, look to donation.

The Barren was very supportive, he too had a mix of feelings. He didn't want me to feel forced to make a choice, but also knew I would have all the same options with this newer car.

When I decided who was going to take her on her next path, I drove her to the garden, talking to her along the way, thanking her for all her support over the years. I picked flowers for her dashboard and left them there to dry. 

The day before the tow truck came, I burned sage inside the car. Telling her that I release her from all that she helped me carry over the years. All the sorrow and pain that she allowed me to fill her with. All the times I screamed and cried and banged my hands into the steering wheel. I released her of all her obligations and thanked her for taking to me to places that also supported my joy and excitement. 

She was cleared of it all, she was free.

I tucked a little Milagros into a secret place to carry her to her next happy. 

The following day, I met the tow truck and watched her drive away.

I thought it would hurt more...maybe it will down the line but for now I am hopeful she will be auctioned off and make someone else happy.

Has anyone read Klara and the sun

A friend mentioned that our story was similar, and I kinda agree.

Now I feel different, as though I also let some of that sorrow and heaviness go too.

The goodbye was proof of growing pains and that is why I cried so much.

There and back again

 "Sorry for the delay, I have been overwhelmed with caregiving tasks"

This is what I wrote in response to a text from my mother in law. I feel this way a lot now. I am overtaxed, overwhelmed, over run with emotions and haggard.

April marked my 56th birthday.
I spent the month peppering treats for myself in between doctors’ appointments, work responsibilities, managing my immune system and everyday tasks.  I knew The Barren was overworked and wouldn't have the brain capacity to plan anything. I got my bi-annual haircut, a new to me dress, a new vibrator, a new to me vintage point and shoot camera and some plants for my garden. I got The Barren a fancy new showerhead (I give gifts for my birthday) made my brother a couple quiches and treated a friend to an ice cream.
When the actual date rolled around, The Barren and I celebrated my birthday together, which I loved. He had no ideas, because all he can think about is work and so I sat for a moment and thought of trees...and told him I wanted to go forest bathing. It is a bit complex orchestrating it out, as one of the cats had just been put on daily meds, my diet makes traveling a whole thing and our cat sitter was at Stagecoach, and our backup sitter was moving that same weekend for fumigation...BUT we were able to spend two nights away!!
I had spent the week before making birthday cakes, cupcakes and sweets...every cake I made had a shelf life of four hours before becoming dry or dense or chewy?! I make my birthday cake every year since my diet had so many restrictions added...this year was no different. In staying with tradition, we took cupcakes to my parents the night before so I could be with the people who made me. This year was... it was surreal. We arrived, my parents handed me bills (my brother and I handle their payments now) and asked questions about medical appointments and then they walked to the table, sang happy birthday, took a photo and we ate the cupcakes in silence. Packed up the tray and we were back in our car an hour later. It felt very different...disconnected and not really celebratory.
I made note of that in my mind, and it broke my heart a bit more.
The next day was my actual birthday, my other ritual is to take a sunrise yoga class to start the day. I did and much to my surprise, my yoga teacher had placed a sweet gift at the top of my mat while I was sitting with eyes closed before class. When I opened my eyes and discovered it I spent the rest of the class hiding my tears. I was SO overwhelmed by the gesture I just let the tears fall. I was in a dark class so it was easy to hide. I kept thinking of a meditation that was what does kindness look like to you?
I drove home and we spent the day driving to the city outside the National Park. I took photos along the way. Part of this first adventure was that we had recently traded in our older BMW for a used electric car, so this was the maiden road-trip voyage and it required a new learning curve. It is not a tesla so chargers are different and less obvious.
As we drove further away, I was getting texts and calls with birthday wishes and songs. It delighted me. We found a place to get some food that I could make work and we ate in the hotel room in our PJs watching television. When 8:30 pm came around, I called to check in on the parents...they had gone to bed...and when I said we had arrived at the hotel and that I had gotten the loveliest calls all day...it was then that my mother said. What is the date, did we forget to call you?
My parents had forgotten to call me.
The following day was a new page and we drove to the trees...MUCH to our surprise it had SNOWED overnight making the park right out of a fairytale! 
I live on the west coast, so this is beyond magic and I was laughing and crying and making strange primal noises when I couldn't form words.
I was in such a deep state of glee I was crying the whole time, everything was SO beautiful and quiet and calm and perfect. I kept turning to The Barren and saying “this is the BEST birthday ever!"
We walked a little in the snow, and saw deer and squirrels and I took lots of photographs. I smelled tree bark, and listened to the crunch/squeaking sound of snow beneath my tennis shoes, got hit in the head with a snowball that fell from a tree and filled my eyes and heart with the forest and gratitude.
As we drove to the next charging station we made promises to each other to return again soon and as often as we could. It was the balm that soothed both our hearts and brains. It was like we had traveled through a portal to another world, because as soon as we left the park, reality returned and our hearts were heavy again. Responsibilities were waiting on voicemails and we drove home quietly trying to ignore them for as long as possible.

Muddled and Conflicted

 The Barren and I are conflicted and muddled in our mix of feelings and emotions about the passing of our brother in law.

He passed under hospice care with his wife, mother and children in attendance.

He died on the 10th after a 7 year journey with cancer, drug trials, medical interventions and the power of prayer. He was deeply tied to his church and a christian fundamentalist. He coached local football and was on the board of the adventist school his children attended and his wife teaches at. He was a big guy, big voice, big personality. We first were introduced to him at a birthday celebration for my FIL where he got fall down drunk and landed in the bushes apologizing over and over for making a bad first impression. He was always offering help with some thing or another. He was well educated and held a MBA & MS Psychology.

I wrote about our "November Trip" to spend time around the table together. We saw him once more last year when he attended the wedding of his mother in law, that The Barren performed. He offered to perform the service, but was turned down by my MIL because she didn't want any religion in it. 

He was in pain and we barely shared a word with each other while I photographed the family, and had a meal at the same table once again. There was another family thanksgiving this year, but we opted to not attend and stayed home instead.

When word came from my MIL that he had entered hospice, we were not surprised but conflicted in our feelings. He was a father to our nephews who we are not close to because their parents chose to not allow it, as we were not "good people", meaning we were not christians. 

(so we thought about the boys, and The Barrens sister)

Over the years, we were fine to reach out to if something was needed, like a schoold donation, christmas gifts or graduation gifts. I left a social media platform because he stated that the confederate flag was not offensive to him, nor was a nazi flag as they were just symbols. He was deeply "american" in that his country came before everyones and should be respected, but had no problem teaching his children that women were here to serve men. He continued to support the rapist in charge of the usa and made sure his family voted the same*...which gave then all great joy. He was a person who was one way with family and another with the world he interacted with. He was a people pleaser and performative around family. 

*the kids are in college

So we sat conflicted with our feelings about his death. Then word traveled around family that The Barrens sister was having a small service and so we assumed it would be the church and her and the kids. We were fine with that. We were outsiders and that made complete sense.

Then I got a text saying "it would mean a lot if we could come."

We have rented a car, and a hotel room and are doing an 800mile round trip in two days to attend. We are even shuttling back our new FIL, as our MIL plans to stay for a longer than he would like. 

The posts are now all over social media and I don't think this will be a small service any longer.

How do you deal with the death of a nazi sympathizer in the family?

Short term: We give. We continue to give and give as that is what makes sense to us. Kindness and love.

I chose to make a donation in his name to a foundation that coaches kids in underserved areas, focusing on girls. “Girls” refers to gender-expansive youth (cis girls, trans girls, non-binary youth, gender non-conforming youth, gender queer youth and any girl-identified youth).

There is also a Gofund me style page set up as well, and The Barren has already said he plans on donating funds to his sister. He even plans on bringing a guitar to one of the nephews who expressed interest in playing. 

Needless to say, we remain conflicted with our feelings, and are muddling our way through.

Who is that?

Recently when I look into the mirror I do not often recognize the person reflecting back at me.

Not in an actual I don’t know who I am kinda way, but an unfamiliar way. I feel disconnected from myself in many ways, and like I am no longer who I thought I was kinda way.

When you imagine yourself, you get a mental image of yourself...and when I catch a glimpse of myself in a reflective surface I am often surprised who is looking back. 

The Barren and I attended a cousins wedding on New Year’s Eve, it was lovely and romantic and the first time in a LOOOOOOONG time that we have had plans on new year’s. The newlyweds are soo deeply in love and it was a beautiful thing to witness. At one point I said to myself, this is happiness, this is joy that you are feeling...it felt so different I had to assess it in myself.

My parents and brother didn't go; my parents because they said it was too much fuss, and my brother because it was a kid free event and he didn't want to leave his home alone on new year’s eve. So the Barren and I dressed up and went and every person I saw asked about my parents and why they were not there. It was hard. I was trying to treat the night as my vacation, my get away for 24hrs. I told that to The Barren and he then understood that I haven’t had the chance to getaway...from anything! So as he watched person after person ask about my parents he saw me. We took photos of ourselves dressed up and smiling, the rain that night made for a chilly covered outdoor wedding and the music was insanely loud, so loud I had a sore throat from screaming all night to talk to anyone. As we left, before midnight, we relished in the quiet of the car and the sound of rain on the windscreen.

It is a strange time we are living in, and being here in the states makes it even more surreal by each hour. I am heartbroken and exhausted and constantly worried about something or another. I am trying to practice radical acts of joy and find things in the day that I can celebrate. I feel lonely and sad a lot more of the time, and despite my activities, I am often solo as the weeks pass. Sometimes I like the time of solitude and quiet, often times it weighs heavy on me and I feel invisible until I am pulled from beneath my cloak...

Example: I was followed in the market yesterday by a man that wanted to tell me how he liked my hair, and admired that I was "letting it go"...he had followed me through to store to tell me this and I am sure if I had said anything other than "um, thanks" he would have continued to engage in some other unpredictable way. I was left looking for ways to be in a more people dense area, making sure I wasn't alone, feeling angry that this creepy guy "approved" of the way I was presenting myself. I texted The Barren and told him I felt super icky from the encounter... and I was really angry. This was only a few days after a man murdered a woman in her own car, and the nation saw. Men are unpredictable and scary.

I am on edge, we all are.

For me, this week had beat me up pretty impressively.

I am involved with my parents and their medical appointments. Once again, I waited to be invited and asked to assist, permission is an important part of trust.

Last week was a lumbar puncture and then this week a meeting about the results with a new neurologist for my father. He had become more confused as of late and the MRI showed fluid on his brain, so that was drawn and the new doctor met with us on Tuesday. He was late, and apologized about that...my father was clearly freaked out because he didn't act out about the wait (they were late for his lumbar puncture too and he was repeatedly slamming his walking stick on the ground in a Gandalf "you shall not pass" kinda way. I had to talk to him like a toddler in the common waiting area explaining how it was disrespectful and how there were others ahead of him), but was quiet on the exam table. My mother was quiet too but angry (about her whole world being turned inside out) next to me...fear presents itself differently in us all. 

The doctor took his time and explained the reason for the lumbar draw, the results of the MRI and what he saw on the spinal fluid draw...and then ordered a blood test (a new one, for Alzheimer’s markers) we talked about gait changes in my father’s walking and concerns about his developing confusion and the talk was a mix of science terms and clear phrases which I followed along with but my parents were clearly overwhelmed by, so I am glad I was there to be the "decoder ring" for them. Afterwards my mother kept saying "you were really good" in that I understood and asked questions as they arose with the doctor. Neither ot them do that.

I was masking well, really well...because what they didn’t know was that I was battling some serious abdominal pain from what I thought was a flare..I had taken liquid antacids down the street from their home...and I was horribly uncomfortable. I had awoken with the pains and soldiered on to make work that morning in town before picking them up and shuttling them to and from the appointment. After the appointment I left their home and was ready to release the emotions of the day when I passed my sister in law on her walk around the neighborhood, I buttoned it up and spent the next hour chatting with her before heading back towards home an hour away.

I didn't get to cry, I was too tired.

I was greeted by The Barren, who had a bad day and I told him, I was just gonna have a thin miso soup for dinner and proceeded to make my dinner. After sipping the soup, I collapsed on his lap on the couch and fell asleep.

I am exhausted and emotionally drained, I feel like I am walking around in a cloud. Not really here or there. There has been so much grief in my body for the last two years.

Yesterday afternoon, I told The Barren that as much as I would like to ignore that I have an autoimmune disease, I am getting punched in the face by it over and over demanding attention. I think I am grieving, not just the state of the world, but my body, my family, and my dreams for myself and my life. It is so frustrating to have ideas and desires to do things, but have less than enough energy to do them. To see them so close, but be unable to maintain the stamina to see them through. I am trying to be graceful with myself, but it is becoming harder and harder and I wonder "who is this?"

My own doctors meetings start tomorrow to talk about my latest results. 

Ideally I can have a good cry soon, like a palate cleanser

A friend mentioned this writing prompt and I found it timely

*Keep your chin up buttercup*

Baseline

**Brain dump-trauma** 

 I didn't go to the Bog Witch meeting, I chickened out...or found myself distracted enough to let it slide by. I was embarrassed at myself...and then spent time rationalizing why I didn’t make the effort to go. In the end, I simply made myself dinner, sat and watched something on tv and pondered what happened to my get up and go. 

The Barren is currently overseas for his big business trip. He has been adjusting well, and getting things done and exploring and being pampered by the hotel and his company and coworkers. It is really beautiful to witness and although it was so horrible to watch him leave...I am happy that his experience so far has been a good one. I watch his air-tag move around the country and city and it makes me feel more assured in many ways. I can't say it has totally eliminated my catastrophized scenarios, but it has absolutely muted them enough that I can do other things.

We got a lot of things done and sorted before he flew off, like our will and deep conversations that were overdue. It was so beautifully intimate and healing for us both. We celebrated our 23rd wedding anniversary and went out to a dinner. He was so overwhelmed, that I did all the planning and was the only one to share a card and little token.

Meanwhile I also finished my end of the year art deadline, finished a commission, got accepted into a show in NY city, won an international award, stripped my community garden space, shot portraits of a collector couple of mine and finished my 1000th yoga class.

To say I have pushed myself into high gear is an understatement and I don't always run on high, but I have been having more manic style energy bursts since starting this medication.

The second week The Barren was gone we got rain, like A LOT of rain and when I went to use his car for errands, I noticed the rug was shiny...then on further inspection I found the rug was TOTally SOAKEd and the back passenger foot-well had two inches of standing water in it. No open windows, no open doors...the inside was dry...but the floor was under water! so I spent multiple days getting as much water out as possible between additional rain storms. Yesterday after multiple hours with a shop vacuum, I "tapped out" and drove it to the mechanics for professional help. I had done everything I could and still it wasn’t enough. I contacted the insurance company and filed a claim, and now it is with the professionals.

********

The Barren is home, safe and didn't get sick! MASSIVE WIN for us both.

A funny snafu was that I had kept all the information about his car to myself, as there was nothing he could do from India and so I figured I'd explain when I went to pick him up. The night before he was set to travel home, the mechanics texted him an invoice! He called and said why are they texting me an invoice, is this spam? I explained what happened and we both had a massive laugh about it. He has been considering another car and this might have been Mother Nature’s push to change things up.

Since his return we've hunkered down and have been taking things at a slower pace. He leaves again Sunday for another trip but this time only East and for only a week.

Last weekend we got some results back on my father, and it will require some more appointments, procedures and patience. Upon this information being shared by my parents to other family members, I got a phone call the day after. Actually a conference call with a slight interrogation feeling to it, asking me what I am doing and how this is being addressed and why I wasn't pushing my parents into making choices, and do I trust the doctors etc...

I finished the call, and stood up to find my whole back had a spasm and my left hip was trashed. I have spent the week stretching and heating and taking Tylenol. Thursday was the BIG GALLERY exhibition and I want to be able to stand and share the excitement of the night and my accomplishments.

I ended up at the massage therapist on Wednesday asking her to cast spells, and do any other magic should could do to help me be more comfortable. It is most likely a sciatica episode and as I have NEVER had this happen before I was learning as I moved through it.

She gave me a massage, and did some cupping, reiki, hot stones and preformed some serious magic to my back and hip. Leaving me so so thankful!

I arrived at the big event last night rested, ready and in little, to no discomfort.

I was able to get a couple photos just after entering the event, and then my in-laws arrived. I love that they come to this event. It is always a funny surreal moment, as my mother in law has hearing loss and doesn't read the room, so I have been interrupted in a conversation more than once by her interjecting herself, because she can't hear I am already talking. My new father in law is often decked out in a Santa cap and seasonal shirt and wandering about with a smile taking in the busy gallery scene. Last night was the same, so when The Barren suggested they head out front to get some air, I followed and they rested against the front window, chatting and then....

My father in law suddenly collapsed, I threw my arms out and caught him before he hit the cement. He seemed to have fainted...he recovered and stood up again, and while I was chatting with him...he collapsed again...this time for longer and I caught his crumple again, making sure his head was safe and straightening his legs from below himself. The Barren called 911 and the response was swift. I kneeled on the sidewalk next to him talking to him quietly and convincing him to let a professional make sure he was okay. 

My mother in law just kept saying this has never happened and he was tired. As wealked her to the car, I reasched out and placed a hand on her shoulder, to which she responded "I'm fine", I looked her way and said, sometimes it is just nice to be reminded that you have people around you that care. She didn't really find comfort in my softness, so I let the words float away. We took her to the ER to wait for word. He was being treated for dehydration and low blood pressure and after hearing this my MIL told us to take her home. He had other labs being done, so she would wait for results and his call to pick him up from home where she had a car. She shooed us out and we sat in our car for a moment wondering WTF just happened!?

We went to a restaurant in town to stare at each other, ask each other over and over " you okay"; my hip/thigh pulsing in pain and try to process the evening that just unfolded under a beautiful full moon in front of the gallery on the biggest night of the year.

As our food arrived, MIL texted that he was released and home. As of this morning, although he didn’t sleep well, he was fine and she'd check his blood pressure before they take the bus to retrieve their bikes from last night. 

So that was last night.

Totally normal, totally surreal, absolutely baseline for this year.

in reflection, I am thankful that my body carried me through the night, never once faltering at what I asked from it. Showing me how strong it is and how capable I am.

My cousin was there, helping me by getting me a glass of water, putting hands on my shoulder, while The Barren supported by his mom and answered questions. Her question was "how can I best support you right now?"

Kindness does matter

Bog Witches

Melancholy is my new normal.

I am moving slower, staying near home more, being okay with being alone more.

The Barren is in the middle of all his trips for the year; so I am doing my best to center myself with alone time. Art focusing, reading books, talking to the cats, yoga and growing food. 

I am actively trying to be present, but it is like living in a surreal state, where this new world is unfolding around me daily/hourly. It is hard to still wrap my head around how much has been lost, and how much is still being taken by this Sherbert Pervert and his minion of cowards.

****

I took the train to meet The Barren after his week long conference so we could drive home together and selfishly I could spend time with him from the very moment he was freed of his work commitments. The train took 6 hours, I got off, hugged and kissed my sweetie and then got into his car and we started the drive back home. I have done this a few times because I can't bear the idea that he would have to drive home, exhausted alone. So I am there as an optional driver and company. This year we stopped at a "plant butcher" so I could have a meal that I didnt have to cook. I tried legumes for the first time in a long while and although I was terrified about how my body might react, it did alright! I had the farts and a little bloat, but zero pain and I was happy about that.

A party this past weekend had questions about how I was feeling and it sat strange with me. Afterwards, I told The Barren that I don't want to talk about my health in social situations anymore. There is so much attached to it, like an oozing barnacle of attached emotions. In the end, it leaves me feeling badly about myself and I don't want to feel that way anymore. He heard me and saw what a spiral it sent me into. So hopefully that will be something of the past for now.

It felt empowering and scary to set that line in the ether.I am proud of myself for doing it.

***

                My car has driven to the moon and then some, I have diven it over 290,000 miles.
                                                            The moon is 238,900 miles.

While I was picking up my car from the mechanics after a routine oil change/inspection, I was joking with the woman who runs the office for her brother the mechanic (much like my work situation).  I told her that I had worked out really hard that morning and I was afraid to sit in the provided chair, as I might have a really hard time standing again. We joked about aging and new noises our bodies make and then she said, 'We having a meeting of bog witches the first of each month at a local divebar, we call it "bookclub" but it is mostly a group of older gals sitting and making community. Sometimes we make protest signs, sometimes we just bitch or learn about native plants. If you would like to join us, this is where we meet and you are welcome swing by and hang out with us"

I felt sooooooo coool! Like the coolest person in school invited me to sit with them at lunch, because I was unique and they liked it!

Needless to say, I will battle my introvert tendencies and do my best to join their next meeting.

It was so flipping cool.

Then I paid my $200 bill and left on my broom, that looks like a well loved and cared for car.

Rollercoaster of Love

 

I am still here, still above ground.
This post does ramble...
I am a swirl of thoughts feelings and moods in every hour of the day. 

I am still in a guinea pig level of this new medication...but I am cautiously hopeful that things might be working better. I haven't been in an ER since May and I count that as a win! I have locked down my diet even more, even though having an auto immune disease means that the food doesn't really play a part in the inflammation but can contribute to irritations. So I am experimenting even more on taking things from my diet, or massively limiting them.

It is exhausting and makes having tea with a friend VERY challenging. I am there sipping water while they eat or drink beverages I once enjoyed. They try and not make a big deal about it, but I see their looks, wondering if I eat at all...or if I am hungry or...who knows. 
I am trying to make it a practice of being present in a conversation and present with the person who has asked to share time and I choose to share time with as well.

 Honestly though, at times it is very hard to not show how I really feel about how scared I am. How I constantly fear that I might eat something that could send me into a ball of pain. How they might see how scared I am to eat anything I haven't made myself...how hyper cautious I am about everything, how this has massively changed my relationship with food, my body image, my self-esteem and wellbeing.

I am back to assisting with my parents in person. I was invited back to help. I have maintained all the stuff in the background, but was refused when I offered to help take them to appointments or help by dropping off meals. So I started with shuttling my father to his mental health appointment and was asked to sit in on the session. Another therapist saw how we interact with my father and saw how challenging it is. My father is a performer, and so he is 100% on when he is around people other than family; presenting a different version to the outside world than is true making up facts. The therapist sees it thankfully, which is reassuring.

I also took my father to his annual wellness check and it was ordered that he needed a treadmill test. I took him to that, and I think it was a shock to my father that he wasn't able to last more than 2 minutes on the walking pad before his legs gave out. He will be returning to the test, but via IV dyes and stimulants to test his heart. It has been heartbreaking and beautiful to see this side of my father. Beautiful in seeing how vulnerable he is, it is a rare thing to be able to witness this side of our parents, so I hold it as a precious thing.
Each of these visits leaves me spent: emotionally, and I want to comfort myself, I do what I can to refortify myself. When he was in aftercare after his fall, I would eat a bag of harvest snaps on the drive home, screaming in between when tension was so high. Now, I drive in complete silence, no snacks are okay at this time....

It is a rollercoaster

I am rule follower, but I am determined to find a path that will work for me. 
I had two social meetings this past weekend and both left me so tired. I joke that the person who says yes to these is a different person than who shows up. I know it is super important to be social, and connect with people who are not toxic, so I push myself to go. I enjoyed both events but I was pretty quiet afterwards. I have found myself looking at people and wondering what it is like to walk in their life, eat what they eat, socialize like they do. I have found myself so much more serious and introspective. I used to identify with Tigger and now I am a cross between Piglet and Eeyore. 

Has anyone else been feeling like this? A shift in how you are interacting with the world around you?

The Barren has returned from his trip to Canada and he mentioned that the city he had his business in was light and vibrant and happy. 
I said "was it like to not waking up in a pool of existential dread every day?" and although we laughed at it, it was true.

Soapbox moment to the universe: I love where I live, it really is pretty and the kind beautiful people I interact with...but at the same time I absolutely HATE this government and everyone who is playing along, justifying it, validating it, supporting it and downplaying it.

I have been hunkering down and trying to find a bit of loft in my mind. Sometimes I get so caught up in the downward spiral of thoughts....other times it is like I am rollerskating around big holes in the road. Currently my garden spots are bringing me joy. I have a community spot and a couple guerilla spots around my complex that I have planted and they are all thriving and bright with blooms and food. I am slowly exploring art making practices that are new and interesting. I am practing yoga multiple times a week and getting closer every class to making my goal of 1000 classes done by the end of the year. Today was class 968. There have been some wins and I am celebrating them. 

My life feels like a rollercoaster for sure, but I am still trying to see it through love lenses,
No matter how cheesy that is.

Your Body Hates Itself

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 I drove in total silence on the way home. 

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

I was left exhausted, in discomfort and spun.

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

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

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

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

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

I am actively fighting the depression that accompanies pain.

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

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

Time after time

 ICE is in my town

I can hear the helicopters daily

My neighbors are all on edge, and terrorized.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Shake the disease

 So it has been a shit couple of weeks. 

More than normal kind of shit.

I landed myself in the ER and had to stay overnight in the hospital.

 

I had some mild tenderness in my lower right side and my gut doctor told me that if that ever happened get myself to the ER right away. So after a couple of days of trying to figure out if it was a pulled muscle, a tender ovary or what, it got more tender and I went at 5am to the ER. 

I was taken back right away, and then it all became a flutter of activity and I did everything in my mind to remain calm. The Barren was with me and I am thankful for that. It was the first time doctors assumed I was in pain, and I kept having to tell them that I wasn't, that it was tender. One doctor even said " we as men would never be able to deal with the pain women deal with daily, and I just want to make sure you are not in any pain" I think that is when I stopped processing reality. 

After a change of nurses, IV placement, starting some antibiotic drugs and taking blood- 6 members of a  surgical team came in all at the same time as a second doctor. When I heard surgical team, The Barren said my heartrate rose quickly and my blood pressure sat higher. I think there were 7 people in the room all asking questions and telling me things and it was like a tsunami of information was closing in on me. The surgical team determined that I didn't need surgery, but wanted to keep me overnight to make sure I would respond to treatment. The doctor said the same...I felt like Alice falling down the rabbit hole.

My autoimmune disease was in a flare and it is right next to my appendix, so they wanted to make sure they knew what was flaring. thankfully my little appendix is holding steady 💓

I got assigned a room, and moved out of the ER. As they were taking me there, they mentioned that it was the maternity floor so there is lots of extra security. The irony was another brick to a surreal day. I got my own room, with open bright windows. My nurse came in to ask me a bunch of questions, and then let me sit in quiet to process.

The Barren went home to get me a change of clothes and my HRT drugs and glasses.

I sat in my room alone for a while, quietly crying, sitting in the strangeness of the morning that had unfolded. A whirlwind of people, drugs, questions....

 What had just happened? What was happening? over the course of the next few hours I was visited by another four doctors and surgeons asking the same questions, pushing on my tummy and asking how much pain I was in. I only insulted one surgeon by asking questions he couldn't answer and then as he left he said, I'll see you in 5 years, and I said..." for what?!"

Then my gut doctor arrived and The Barren was there, and we got everything explained and I was empowered with information and soothed knowing I had come in at the right time, done the right thing and that my immune system was too smart for my infusion drugs it seems. Blood work would determine it...I still had options and ways to treat and ideally avoid additional issues. 

A new level of learning had taken place, I was confident in knowing what was happening, and could explain it to others. That made me feel better and seen and thankful.

I was moved again to the top floor of the hospital for my overnight room, and had a view of the coast and a couch and was still solo. The Barren was so flustered and freaked out, he kept a brave face though... The hospital didn't know how to feed me, so The Barren brought me a couple things from home in a cold chest. We had eaten most of the food from home as this was the weekend before we had to leave for the fumigation...The Barren focused his attention on packing what I had not gotten to yet. 

My overnight was strange, and I tried to reframe it in my mind as a messed up hotel stay, or think of it as a hostel stay from decades ago. Never knowing when a person would join you in the room or what those sounds were. I didn't sleep much, I was anxious and the bed mattress is covered in plastic, so I spent a good part of the night sweating and tossing, trying to not bend my IV arm and fighting restless leg. I knew the nurse was coming in at 11:30 to give my steroids and so I set a alarm to wake before that and avoid being startled awake, and then again before her 5am vitals check. The early morning wake up worked well for me, as I treated it like I was getting up for yoga, I drank water, I got out of bed and washed my body with a washcloth and changed my clothes. I had time to sit in front of the big window and watch the sunrise slowly....in fact because I was out of my bed at 5:30 when the group of women from surgery arrived they were confused who I was. I got up from the couch and said "it is me, I'm the patient " and I walked over to the bed and sat down for them to ask their questions and then confirm that they were going to release me from their watch/surgery standby list. I thanked them and told them as lovely as they are, I don't want to see them again. They appreciated my humor and were glad to recommend the release. They were followed by a line of doctors who were astonished by my nature and were happy to declare/recommend that I was too healthy to be in the hospital for another day longer. My gut doctor arrived around 10am to have a detailed conversation with me and it was actually quite validating to have a doctor explain why and what he was concerned about, how we can move forward with other medications if needed, but that the blood work will take about two or so weeks to get back as they were sent to a remote lab that does the special testing required to get answers. I told him that if I wasn't an artist, I was going to be a doctor. That I was obsessed with microscopes as a kid and still have mine, but I realized it was actually a tool to view light and that it makes sense now that I am a photographer. He shared how he has always been into illustration and we talked about his graphic novel that he drew in medical school to remember drugs, interactions and reactions. It felt like an honest real conversation and I thanked him for empowering me with true knowledge, not speaking in a derogatory or dismissive way to me about my disease and having patience for my questions and always looking for answers for me. It was something I really admired and trusted him for. He was touched...and felt that although most people stay in the hospital longer when transitioning to steroids he felt that I had a true sense of what I needed to be aware of, look out for and was comfortable releasing me a day early to my own best care.

I was in the car with The Barren at 1:30 that afternoon headed to get some food to bring home.

I ate and took a nap and the following day I resumed tasks for moving things for the fumigation. A friend came over to help move my patio plants down our stairs and across the way and ended up moving a few before hubby couldn't find a cat* and then the whole thing stopped and never really started again until I had finished moving the patio plants myself, and digging up my front yard myself to move those plants to a friends home via a truck. Over the next couple days and into the week following, I did more than I should have, but I measured myself, took moments of rest and focused on eating well and drinking more water than normal. It has been non stop and yesterday was the first day I made space for myself to simply focus on a monumental art project that is due in one month. I ended up being exhausted yesterday and although I spent it not doing anything real for the project, I let myself rest....

Today I gathered some supplies and started to plot out ideas. I am going to do my best...and focus on simply making things that make me happy. Re-centering the goal. 

I am learning something new everyday about how strong I am, how tenacious I can be, how soft I can also be and sometimes I just need someone to tell me I didn't do this to myself. The little girl in me is feeling like she needs some reassurance that she isn't bad or being punished for something she did that she doesn't remember. I had a lot of quiet time in that overnight, and this past week, where I reflected on all the past medical trauma I have survived and how it makes me when I am around doctors and in medical environments. Infertility made me an advocate for myself, and my love of science made me question and look at things deeply....now I have to combine them and learn how to live with these autoimmune diseases in a way that make sense to me.

*the cat was found, she was watching us run around looking for her and made no attempt to assure us. Typical cat move.

Ironic

 So last year I saw Alanis Morsette at a local eatery and I was star-stuck and giddy...it took days for the smirk to fade from my face. It was like getting a postcard from me of the past. Music that made me feel good, powerful and emotionally strong. As I was talking to The Barren about it, he said " I didn't know this about you, I love hearing how much you really connected with her music"

Now, we are choosing to not revisit that eatery as it is one of many places in town that support the current administration. We have chosen to make purposeful choices with our money and patronage. One of the small but important acts we can take in our little life right now.

A lot of the time it feels like the moment the gang from Scooby Doo reveal the villain.

Or when I realized the lilypads were fake at Disney and were really water filters.

I have the Goods app on my phone and although it makes my shopping take a bit longer, I feel less weighed down by my final choices and have switched things up in our life.>I went to Jury Duty last week and while sitting in a room of people I wondered how many voted for this shit-show of a government. I didn't have a long stay, turns out there were no cases that day and we all got dismissed and so I left for home a couple hours after arriving....then proceeded to get more obvious signs of a brewing head cold or side effects from my most recent infusion. I know I have been running on adrenaline, depression, stress and ADHD, so it doesn't come a total surprise that there was a tear in the fabric of my well being and a bug got in. The idea of serving on a jury occupied a lot of my mind and I was quite conflicted how I felt about the act. The US is running on fear and lawlessness, chop and burn techniques and frankly the SAVE act, that wants to remove more rights had me wondering why should I uphold/believe in a system that is set to tear down and remove more persons rights?

I know my stress is high because I am over processing and over planning all the parts of an upcoming fumigation for the community I live in. I have read pages and pages about the fumigant, I have researched it and after effects and what I can and can't control.

Can't: my front door plants will probably die

Can: order bins for dry goods and take them to a friends for a few days, arrange cat boarding because no hotels allow cats, and my reaction to the variables.

Last night I made a choice to go to a local city council meeting to support some friends that were speaking before the board. The room was packed! Standing room only it was a hot topic, asking the city council if they would protect its citizens from federal overreach; protect residents from deportation, protect our trans residents and protect doctors and residents healthcare and abortion rights. 

The city council listened to 132 speakers, including teens who were wanting safe care, wanted to stop hiding from ICE officers for fear of being deported, parents asking for protection for their trans kids and themselves...each had 1 minute to talk. Many were in support of the measure, which would add additional protections beyond the state and federal constitution and then there were the racists, and "right to lifers" screaming about how it would kill babies complete with their billboards and yelling over people, bullying speakers. When everyone said their piece, 4 hours later, I sat there and listened to the board saying they wanted to do something BUT....they feared lawsuits and federal funding being with drawn, they felt it would only be words and nothing more...in the end they ended up pushing it another 6 weeks out.

I awoke this morning, still battling whatever is in my sinuses and head...weary and dull.

Last night it felt like I was witnessing history again, apathy and fear proving stronger than community and strength and comfort.

To look for the good; I stood beside people I socialize with who were there to fight for more protections for people they don't know, maybe know, and love. I took heart in that. I watched women plead with the council to protect them and their children from unwarranted racial profiling and deportations.

My heart hurts...

it hurts so badly.

  

I wondered where the super hero is, who is going to make this all go away fix all the cracks and swoop up the bigots and racists? and then I remembered it had to be me and the wary army fighting a goliath of a cause...the snowball that has grown big and needs to smash into a shed.

Call Me

 

Shit is real

I have found myself on more than one occasion staring off into space.

Trying to figure out where the ground is, as everything seems to be floating in zero gravity.

I decided the days after the election, that I would spend time everyday calling my representatives and so far it has stuck.

I have an app on my phone that gives me scripts and direct lines to their Washington DC offices. Only one of my three actually have people answering phones, so the other two get multiple emails from me personally and then multiple emails via resistbot and robo emails.

Then I try and find things to do that distracts me from reality....I am also going to be attending some training on other facets, to see if it is something I am best suited for.

I am sickened in new ways everyday about HATE, RACISIM and MISOGYNY

I do not refer to the humanoids that have taken power as anything other than 

rumpled foreskin and the frat bois. 

I am truly at a loss for reason to be any kind of sympathetic to anyone who has chosen this.

I have drawn my line.

We are currently getting rain and it is the perfect scapegoat for me to stay home and doing other distracting tasks like organizing, rearranging and thinking of new art to make. Mostly what I have done is cook soup, move piles of tax paperwork and feel overwhelmed.

I visited my parents yesterday. My fathers psychology notes mentioned that he was considering leaving treatment, so I went to chat with him and ask why. He mostly was defensive and didn't want to bother anymore. I used reverse psychology and his love of self to remind him how much he loves the personal one on one time to talk about himself and that he is always saying that he wants to be a better person. These were opportunities for him to learn how to communicate better for himself and explain with words what was bothering him instead of just shutting down. My mother is supposed to start mental health treatment too, finally.

When I phoned today to see if he could recall our conversation from yesterday or even my visit, it took some prompts but maybe my words worked. I think he feels like this is his idea and that might make things continue to move forward.

I saw a friend yesterday, and they were taking photos. When they showed me a couple they had taken of me they said "you are always looking tired these days"

The Barren and I are trying to tie up some loose ends with legal documents so that we can get them off our plate and mind. Things here in the US are unfolding in unpredictable ways and we are trying to make decisions while watching people chase laser pointers and claim they are real space lasers.

So to recap, I make phone calls...loads of calls

many of which feel like I am screaming, politely, into a void.

I am calling my ancestors, asking for guidance; asking for a path though, as my generational trauma bubbles to the surface of my dreams and thoughts...

I feel at times like life is eating me up...and I am constantly pulling myself out of its mouth and reclaiming a moment of quiet or space or peace.

I do hope that something is brighter and beautiful where you are

Super Callus Fragile Mystic Existential Doses

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Animal support

Help a Seed Library

Artist Aid

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

It was called the "human tripod"

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

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

I am still fragile but also believe in magic

even amongst all the back to back existential crises

Shifting mindscape

 The new year has arrived and with it all the stress and terror about what these next few years will unfold and release. So many unknowns and fears and realities. 

It is like one thing after another, so surreal and so hard to really wrap my brain around...

I read somewhere during quarantine that the human brain wasn't designed/built to handle this many stressful events. I try and say that to myself when I am faced with a 4foot thick wall of stress and anxiousness and fear. 

"I am not going to be able to manage all this into a neat orderly situation that I can fix"

I have found my time out in public is feeling more feral. I don't reach out to talk to people unprompted anymore. I purposely don't make eye contact with people, especially men; and when engaged I stare strait into their eyes with a "don't fuck with me, I don't trust you" energy.

I am feeling so many feelings and not quite sure how to process them anymore.

I fear I am not preparing "right" for all these new unknowable's, and unimaginable scenarios. I have stocked up on a few women's healthcare supplies, just in case. Our little bit of savings are being managed by professionals, I have asked my doctor about my medicines and if the medical system changed...he assured me that the medicine I am taking or would change to is currently manufactured and readily available. (not totally convinced but I can't manage everything) I think my glasses are next on the list to upgrade before too late here. I am trying to secure me, as being a woman in the US now has some potential real changes. It is hard to imagine this...like beyond unreal.

And right on cue, Mother Nature shows us all that nothing is okay and has started some of the largest and most horrible fires that my state has seen in a while. Soooo sooo much loss.

My fire app is sending notices every hour it seems, new fires are everywhere.

I sit here and wonder, stare and dissociate.

*****

In an effort to flip my mind in a new way and not cement those neuropathways...

I made an impulsive decision last week to buy tickets to a small circus that was visiting our town. I drove by the tent for a couple weeks on my way to predawn yoga, the lights of the tent glowed in such a magical way. I had The Barren make a detour one night so I could try and take a couple pinhole photos. Then Friday last week while I sat in the car at 5:45 in the morning, I bought tickets to see the show. I splurged and got the VIP tickets so we could sit as close as possible. Thankfully DH knew I was trying to self soothe and went along with me with zero hesitation. As I stepped out of the car it was like I let go of all my sadness, and forced myself to just embrace my childhood glee. I cheered loudly at the preshow performances and just about burst into tears with joy as I walked past the ring leader standing on a box playing the song from Amelie on the accordion, at the entrance into the tent.

It was an old style Italian circus; there were dropped juggling pins, kids freaking out, a horse that stood its ground and a single clown who ended up sitting on my lap! Simply put, it was charming and well worth the time.

My face hurt from smiling and my muscles behind my ears clenched from so must laughing. The jokes were corny and predictable but I didn't care. I had taken off my airs when I left the car and thought, this is what a moment of joy feels like, embrace it.

It was magic and I was thankful I had that little voice tell me to do it.

My world has shifted for sure, it has radically changed me and the way I see the once amazing world that surrounded me. I am grateful that I wake up each day, and I continue to choose to fight the urge to go with the flow. I work everyday with maintaining my calm and processing unaccounted for things and situations. It is sometimes a real struggle.

I am thankful I have a home, a loving partner and a couple friends.

I am thankful that my body continues to show up for me and my family both chosen and blood related is relatively healthy.

I don't know how I could have raised a kind little person through these times...I fear I might not have been able to show up for them in the best way.

I guess I need to just start small again, and just keep showing up for myself

I hope that all of you can keep doing that too.