Sometimes I wonder if it is possible to be a writer and an artist. For awhile my writing was on hold outside of an occasional article and daily journaling. I needed to concentrate on the art work and build an inventory. The summer months turned to fall and now it is winter and it’s a struggle to find my writing feet. The spark isn’t here.
I never thought I’d stop writing and I won’t. I’m simply enjoying a bit of writer’s block. I don’t intend to choose between writing and other art mediums. I don’t intend to stick to one art form. I cannot limit myself when there are so many avenues to explore… and in the exploring, the writing about my findings. See, it’ll tie in.
Perhaps I should let out my secret… I’m not doing much art these days either. A wrench was thrown in the works when in the beginning of December; I not only came down sick, but injured my back at the same time. My back is fine now and I am feeling much better however, I make all these plans in my head in the morning but not much is accomplished by end of day.
Too easily I get discouraged. A wrong word will send me in a tailspin. A question will topple my coping abilities. I collapse in front of computer or tv or take naps to numb the mind but this is not the road to make 2010 more of a success than 2009.
I am the one that holds the key to that success. I am the one to “make it happen.” I cannot be successful participating in mind numbing activities. Great advice is given and I want to act on that good counsel. I do realize that the psyche can be affected during the cold, dark months and it is up to me to push beyond. Yes, it is work. It’s much easier to give in and take naps.
Maybe I am discouraged in the work that I have done lately. Oh, I am pleased with the articles I have written for the newsletters but I admit that it’s not exactly my style of writing. I am an emotional being and my joy in writing usually comes from feelings and what I discover about myself regarding a subject. Newsletter writing is not about the writer but the subjects and even if I am passionate about the topic, I hold myself apart in the story-telling.
I am thankful for these opportunities to write outside myself and the experience is beneficial in honing writing skills. However, I am making the decision to bring personal-ness back into my articles. I want to talk in the “I” position and let readers know how I feel about the subject. I believe that makes a connectedness. Even if someone doesn’t agree with me, the story will elicit a response. When I block of my feelings, I become hard inside.
This is the crux of the matter, for sure. All artistic endeavors come through emotions. When I look at a scene or a picture, it is the feeling I get that catapults me into creativity. If there is not feeling, there is no life. Mind and heart must remain open to possibility and any put down, criticism (real or imagined,) doubt or problems with equipment can close the door. It is my choice to keep the door open and persevere. I can choose joy over depression. I can even use frustration and anger to inspire an interesting bit of writing.
The pot cannot sit and stagnate. It needs to be stirred. It’s time to blow on the ashes and ignite the flames.

I accomplished a few things yesterday. I ordered a supply of bags from clearbags.com. I use them to protect note cards, photo greeting cards, and poetry cards. The site also offers a 50 piece pack of 5x7 matte photo paper for $3 which I thought was a very good deal. I also ordered yarn. The last time I checked Michaels and Wal-Mart, they were limited in their colors and there’s a particular brand of yarn I like to use for the scarves I knit. I checked the website and found 60 colors.
This is a start in getting back to doing art. I knit off and on while watching tv in the evenings. Takes me a couple weeks to do one scarf but I love the material and colors. I even talked Ma into trying it again so she doesn’t sit there doing nothing all day. She knits in the afternoon. I start the first couple rows for her and do the finish when she’s done. She likes shorter scarves and I like to be able to wrap them a couple times.
Betty told me Christmas week that I have a following at Wild Women Studio in Laconia, that people are buying my books and reading the poems. That’s inspiring to hear. I need to make up some new inventory to bring over to keep things fresh. I always say that it’s important to hear feedback. I don’t hear anything from the store in Laconia, nor from the new one in Sunapee.
Another recent accomplishment is with getting a new computer. The photo programs I worked with do not work with Windows 7. After spending a few days searching a lot of different options and going through trial periods, I was able to find a free download that pleases me and enables me more photo editing.
I’ve also gone through another round of issues with printers. This summer I had problems with HP and horizontal lines. I finally bought a Canon which didn’t have lines, but the vibrancy of color is not present without adding saturation. When I purchased the new computer, an HP, I got a great deal on a printer and I figured an HP printer will work better with an HP computer. All was well when I print on glossy paper but when I tried to print on matte paper, I got horizontal lines. Oh no, not again!
I re-hooked up the Canon printer to now have 2 printers. The HP works great with glossy pictures and everything on matte is done on the Canon (which is mostly note cards and albums pages.) The guy who installed my computer had told me that HP works better with HP papers and I tend to use Staples brand. I’ll re-think my strategies when I make my next paper purchases but for now, the two printers will do. One good thing about it is that I don’t need to keep changing paper.
This last week I worked on photos for collages. I was given a few collage frames and wanted to see how they would work with pictures other than family photos. One was done a year ago with sunflowers which I really like and I am wondering if something like that is saleable. I’ve done two. One was a white frame in which I used cherry blossom pictures and the black frame is done with farm machinery photos. I always prefer black.
I am slowly getting back on the horse. December was a long dry month art wise. I couldn’t get out of my own way. This is a new year and I am going to make it a better. I will concentrate on keeping up with the paperwork part of the business, too.
Joining NH Made was a boon and receiving e-mails makes me realize that as I am now selling my work, I have to think of myself as a business. Feels funny. The words in my head always said that I am not a good business woman. Time to change that. Last year was a tip of the iceberg and this coming year, I am going to be better prepared.
In closing, I would like to say thanks for this last year. It was a jumping off point. I published a book. I was invited to show my charcoal landscape drawings and photography at the library. I became a juried member of the Hillsborough Area Artisans in two mediums. I participated in the Open Studio Tour and NH Open Doors. My work is currently in three shops. After all these years of playing artist and writer, I can now finally say that I AM an accomplished writer and artist.

Somehow I have lost a connection within myself. For a person who had to write in order to feel alive, I am dry as of late. I still journal every day but that is only two pages these past few weeks. Oh, I still do some articles as I write for the snowmobile club and submit an article or two to sunacom.com e-newsletter, but the more creative writing style of mine fell asleep.

I promised my writing group that I’d be back on board after the summer and fall of doing a few art shows but I’ve not come up with anything and now another week is over and group meets on Saturday and there’s not even an inkling of stirring in my writer’s soul.

Talked to a friend yesterday who said she checked my blog and was surprised to find no recent writings, which makes me wonder about what’s going on within me. If I let myself think and sink down into my feelings, I realize I put up barriers to block feeling. With all the drama around my mother’s failing health, I am trying very hard to keep myself in check. My emotions run rampant in worry, despair, anger, and depression. The only way to keep any semblance of sanity and not lose myself in negativity is to block feeling… and I can’t write if I don’t feel.

That doesn’t mean I’m successful at this ploy. I’m not writing nor am I doing other artwork besides a few photographs. My belief system holds that to be alive, you must be creative and I’ve shut the creative side down. Creativity comes from feelings and if I am blocking feelings, I am unable to ignite the spark and right now I don’t know if I am willing to blow on the ashes.

If I fan the flames and the creative fires roar within, then I’ll be susceptible to the pain. It’s an immense struggle to maintain calm and I often do not do very well. I give in to the anger when it roars and then I despair fearing I will never find compassion for my mother. That’s not fair to her, nor is it fair to me.

I shut down. The entire month of December, I gave in to the depression. That’s why I got sick. It was a wake-up call and even in this moment, I am not sure what I’m going to do about it. I’ve always felt I had to block myself off from my mother and I realize that the years of living together went well while my aunt was present to run interference. I remember my mother trying to run my aunt’s life and I was glad I could get away. With my aunt in a home, I am the one being run and I fight it tooth and nail even though I give in more often than not.

I need to fight the despair. Ma’s personal issues don’t have to drag me down. She chose the isolation and although I value privacy and solitude, I also recognize the importance of going out in the world. It’s easy to stay home if I don’t have to go anywhere but it’s necessary to push myself to go out. A lot of inspiration comes from being off on an adventure… even if it’s just going to get groceries.

Yes, I know I can blame my mother for a lot of things, but the reality is that I am also the one who chooses. I chose to be here with her in her decline. I decide to stay home or go out. I am the one who makes my decisions and it is time to become more active in my personal and art life.

Let the New Year begin!

The NH Open Doors Tour is over for this year. Naturally, I wanted more people to stop by but I am pleased with those who did come to see what I offer. I get much joy from the work that I do and when someone appreciates the photographs and drawings, I am even more pleased.

The sale of pieces is important, too, and not just because of the money. One reason is that it is crucial to keep a flow of goods. Life is ever changing and inventories need to move. It’s keeping a freshness to the work and allows positive energy to envelop the creativity. When my stock piles, I become less motivated.

Another reason that I like to keep things moving is because of my fascination of the life around me. I am excited by many subjects and I love sharing the joy that I feel; be it the intricacies of flowers, rusted metals buried in weeds, bits and pieces washed up on the shoreline, birds and critters and the natural beauty of the earth. Sharing the art is showing everyone how I find joy in every day.

I may be a bit crazy, but I want everyone to experience this part of life as I see it. I want others to feel the happiness that runs through me. I get up each morning wondering what joys I will find during the day and every time I look out the window or ride down the street, I am amazed at what my eyes observe. Beauty runs through my soul.

PLAYING BY THE RULES

It’s interesting how things come back around. I thought I knew what I was in for when I took on the “job” of caring for my mother but as she declines and becomes an invalid, I find dealing with these issues very difficult. I am frustrated, angry, and filled with despair. In spite of all my training in dealing with emotions, I am not handling this well.

It’s funny how something will come along to give another perspective. I recently made contact with people I worked with years ago. I’d been out of touch for about ten years as I carried a lot of issues from those factory days. I left full of frustration and anger and I couldn’t bear to face those with whom I once worked. It took a year of healing before I was able to move on with my life, yet I still did not want any contact with those old acquaintances.

In this morning’s journal writing, I realized that the bare emotions from those early days are similar to what I am experiencing now. I asked myself how that could be. The situations are totally different but as I delved deeper, I looked back on my childhood.

My mother wasn’t typical. She’d be out playing hide and seek or kick the can instead of baking cookies. She’d be walking wooded trails and teaching us about plants instead of having coffee with the neighbors. As I grew older, my mother would be making up quiz games for us kids and not going to PTA meetings or making us go out for school sports. She and my aunt would take regular games like Parcheesi and change the game around by adding more “men” and adjusting the rules.

Questions arise. Does this mean that my mother never taught me social skills? I was much more at home in the woods than on the playground. I’d rather be out in the fields than participating in “girl” talk with others my age. I was a social outcast and it didn’t get better as I grew older.

Now, as I am slowly re-acquainting with old co-workers, I am reminded of the on-going struggle of trying to fit in and wondering why I never could. Why have these people come back in my life to remind me of that past anger at a time when the frustrations are resurfacing? Is it my fault that I never had a lot of friends or couldn’t seem to get along with anyone?

Perhaps I want everyone to act in a certain way and when they don’t live up to my expectations, I don’t want to be around them. Yes, I try to accept people for who they are, but the underlying fact is I get frustrated when people won’t behave as I’d have them. It’s like I don’t want to play their game.

That’s it! The light bulb goes off. I don’t want to play by anyone else’s rules… if I don’t like those rules… and today, as in years ago, when I don’t like the game, I stop playing. I often say, “I refuse to play their game” and that’s true with jobs, affiliations, the government (as much as one can) and anything else.

This is what makes me frustrated and angry. If I don’t believe in the rules of the game and I’m still forced to play, then I fall apart. The politics of the old job, the corporate atmosphere of the work place, and the current situation in health care and the decline of a parent are situations that drive me crazy. There are all those “not fairs” in the world and I don’t want to participate.

I cannot always have it “my way” though. There are times when I have to “suck it up” and get the job done. I can’t always re-write the rules to suit me. My mother is getting worse and I cannot change that.
What’s that old saying about “Accepting what you cannot change?” Maybe I can stop feeling so put upon, let go the anger, and accept what is with an open heart.

These old contacts resurfacing are a wake up call and remind me that if issues are buried without being resolved, they will come back. Then again, perhaps seeing the similarity between past and present might shed a new light on this journey of self discovery. Let’s hope so. I am looking forward to catching up with people who were once part of my life…

DECLINE AND COPING

I pull in, isolate myself from family and focus on art work and those who support those artistic endeavors. I try to avoid the pain that often comes with love. Once more I harden my heart and refuse to hurt….which is not easy with an ailing parent and I go back and forth between moments of despair and frenetic creativity.

Sometimes I feel my training is letting me down. All the studies on handling emotion has not stopped me from giving in to frustration as I watch my mother decline. Her needs are so different from mine. Her fears weigh heavy beside my own. She is a dominating force in my life and I’m afraid that if I don’t keep up barriers, she will overcome me and I will come to be just like her.

I try to keep the rest of the family from knowing all the petty details, all that I put up with on a daily basis. They have their own lives and struggles to deal with and I agreed to be here for Ma. Yes, I am well-paid for this choice but I do wonder about the consequences in the end. I worry how I will ever re-join the work force and what wounds I cause in this separation from family. I am not confident in the quality of my future.

I also fear no one understands and might think I am horrible. I am surprised when others do relate to this plight. Hey, I am not the only one to care for an aging parent. I do not have to do this alone, however I cannot help but wonder how much of this trial is for me to bear. Right now, this is my “job” and I don’t feel I’m putting on a good face. Inside I throw a little tantrum. I don’t want it to be this way--- and I feel like kicking something.

I pull back farther and yet, there is always that part of me that does reach out for help. I sit in meditation and the training does come back. I breathe in, breathe out, and relax. I’m able to see how to be better for the next round. There are friends who stop in to visit to relieve some of the pressures and give me time to slip away without worrying about what I’ll find when I return.

Then there is my writing and art work. Writing is my salvation; the place I go when I can no longer cope. I pour my heart out onto pages with some kept private while other is shared. Those thoughts and feelings are the release of pent up frustrations and responses reach out to me through the darkness.

The written words are also a protection. With others, reading protects them from my projected emotions and body language, and for me, because I am emptying myself of the pain, I am protected from my own despair. In re-reading, there is enough distance that I can objectively look at my process. When I am physically in the presence of anyone else, I do not control my emotions well when I am overly distraught.

Doing anything creative is important when dealing with raw emotion, however, at those times, there cannot be interruptions. Time is essential to work the feelings out and regain a more peaceful heart. Solitude is necessary for me to get hold of myself when I have one of my “breakdowns.”

Family checks in. Even though they are busy with their own lives, they let me know they care and that I do not have to isolate myself from them.

I am ready to step up to the plate again.

The leaves are coming down with all the wind and rain. More of the mountains can be seen and the colors are awesome. The sky is alive with cloud formations and different shades of blues and grays. I love the mornings when I can sit up here and look over the golden field grasses.

I’ve got lots to do but with Ma being sick again, I am pulled down. Those who know her know she does little to help herself. It’s sad. Her goal right now is to lie in bed and have people gather around to talk to her and wait on her. I worry when I go off what I will find when I return. Sometimes she is fun and other times she has anxiety attacks and works herself into further illness.

I have to keep moving forward. There’s an art show to get ready for and the house needs to be cleaned up. The living room, dining room and kitchen are turned into a gallery.

One exciting bit of news is that my first Sunacom.com article has been published along with photos that I took last Sunday at Muster Field Farm. Yea!

I made an etsy.com store front and now need to list items for sale. I’ll try to get to that today.

So, to work, to work, to work…

MESSAGE FROM A SKUNK

My friend, Holly, gave me a pretty pink hydrangea plant to use as a table decoration for the upcoming art show. My mother and I both felt the leaves and flowers of the plant and thought it a fake. Three days later, I loaded it in the back of the truck with all my art paraphernalia and headed off to set up.

The plant fell over as I was unloading and a few drops of water dribbled out. I looked closer. The flowers were all wilted and drooping down over the edge of the pot. Oh, my gosh, it’s a live plant! What will Holly say when she sees that I’ve killed the flower she gave me?

Luckily I had water and in half an hour, the plant revived. The weekend was a success and two days later, I glanced at the plant. The flowers drooped down over the edge of the pot again. Oh, no. Guess I’d better get it planted in the ground.

I chose a spot where it would get morning sun and placed it in the ground giving it plenty of water. The next morning, my senses were assailed by the rankest smelling skunk odor I’ve ever come across. I looked out the window. The hydrangea was lying on its side.

I rushed out. There were two tiny footprints pressed into the bone dry, soft dirt where I’d planted the hydrangea. It looked like the plant was carefully pulled up and put aside and the hole filled in. How odd. The plant didn’t look chewed upon nor was the root ball damaged. I re-dug the hole adding Miracle Gro soil, placed the plant, packed in dirt, and watered.

There was a frost that night. The hydrangea, from my distant window, was looking a little weathered with the flowers being more brown than pink. Another night passed. I looked out. The hydrangea was lying on its side. What? Not again.

I went out with the shovel. There was a faint skunk odor in the air. The hydrangea was again two feet away from the hole. Was there a reason the skunk did not want the plant in that spot?

I considered moving the plant and looked at the tag where I read, “Zones 7-9.” We are considered zone 4. The hydrangea would never survive the winter outside. Was the skunk trying to tell me?

I got a pot and made a new home for the hydrangea. I cut back the now dead flowers. It’s happy in its sunny place with my other indoor plants.

As for the skunk, he’s been around these past few nights but none of my other plants are dug up and in the air, the fresh smells of autumn and rain.

Wow, it’s been awhile since I’ve blogged. The summer was incredibly busy with five Tai Chi classes a week and getting ready to do the Hillsborough Area Artisans Open Studio Tour. I enjoyed the journey and was honored to get juried in two mediums--- charcoal drawing and photography.

Two Tai Chi classes were over with the coming of September and this past weekend was the Open Studio Tour. I enjoyed myself, though there were some frantic last minute preparations. I’m pleased with the sales and was excited by the number of people who viewed my work. I received a lot of positive feedback.

My goal for this year was to put myself and my art work “out there” and I am accomplishing that as my next venture is to do the NH Open Doors Studio Tour the first weekend in November. This time I will open my home to the public and will do readings from my book, “My Life Isn’t Flowers…a journey through poetry and pictures,” plus I will demonstrate charcoal drawing.

In the meantime, my plans include on-line selling. Hopefully, I will get to setting that up next week although I have to fit in writing time as I decided to do some articles for Sunacom, a local e-newsletter.

CHANGES IN HEALTHCARE

The expression on the face of the man across the hall echoed my own feelings--- sorrow, despair, and tiring, mind-numbing waiting. For years, people listened to me expound on the inadequacies of the medical profession and all those years I avoided visiting doctors as much as possible. Now I am caught up in the waiting and the insufficient answers.

Each visit to the hospital further enhances my beliefs in the lack of proper medical care. Healthcare is becoming more about business than in helping people. Doctors are regulated by insurance companies and hospitals dictate how much time a doctor can spend with a patient and what they are allowed to talk about. Doctors push more tests and drugs and try to do all the diagnoses from lab reports without having to physically touch the patient. (That would require a specialist.)

Questions are asked but few are fully answered. Doctors are afraid of offering opinions in fear of lawsuits and they spend more time running further tests, and while that can be beneficial, I believe that people are used as guinea pigs. Let’s see what this drug will do. If that doesn’t work, try this one. In the meantime, people are paying and paying and oftentimes getting sicker.

The business of medicine is built on fear. If you don’t take care of yourself, then this will happen. Even preventative medicine pushes fear. You are told not to stress but the lab tests will always show that some drug or other is needed; anything to keep the patient coming back. Then when someone is really sick, they cannot get an immediate appointment.

Even the drugs that are to help fill you with fear if you read the warnings. Not only are the side effects scary, but to take one drug causes a health issue in another area. It’s a wonder that anyone would take any drug--- but when people are not feeling well and are feeling desperate, then they will settle for what the professionals tell them.

Our recent ventures to the medical establishments are causing much anxiety. The doctor looks at the chart and lab report focusing on one or two issues. She asks if there are questions, but any not pertaining to those particular issues are brushed aside. “Time’s up,” or “You’ll have to bring those questions up at the next visit,” are often the answers given, but the next visit is a repeat of the previous except that a different drug might be suggested.

Recent trips to the emergency department have also proved futile. Four hours is the average time spent between arrival and discharge. There’s the waiting room with an annoying, loud, blaring television (which very few people ever watch,) and walls are so thin that you can almost hear every word from the next room or you have to listen to staff members chatting and laughing outside the door, or doors are left open so others going by can see the patients lying in misery. Finally, the immediate problem is soothed, not solved, with an admonition to see the primary care physician as soon as possible and the cycle begins over again.

I look at all the structural changes in hospitals in recent years. Hospital lobbies are now looking like fancy hotels. They are beautiful and while ascetics can play a big part in a person’s recovery, I cannot help but wonder if this adds to the rising costs in health care.

For years, people have joked about hospital charges--- like $20 for one aspirin or $600 in supplies, (the latter being for a two-day stay.) One recent fee is the “Self-administered Drug” which means a patient is charged for taking THEIR OWN drugs brought from home. (This is almost funny as you are told to bring any medications you currently take… and then they charge you for taking them.)

I think about other costs. People are blinded by co-pay, but what do they pay in to get that co-pay? Of course, it depends on the insurance companies. They have us over a barrel. When I was a working woman, I didn’t pay too much attention because there were health benefits with the job, but for those who pay their own health insurance, the costs are not cheap.

Maybe it’s just me. I personally have not been to a doctor in over ten years but the more I see, the less I am willing to submit myself to that… lack of respect. The personal-ness is gone. You’re a number--- herd ‘em in, herd ‘em out. Time’s up. Next. It’s like the doctors don’t see YOU, they are looking at numbers, at a chart, at a symptom (and only one symptom at a time is allowed.)

Unfortunately, it’s not all about me and my mother is in need of health care. As she is less able to care for herself, the burden falls on my shoulders. Frustration levels rise as trying to make an appointment is so complicated. Many channels are gone through before the correct office is reached and finding a “real” person with whom to speak is not easy. Oftentimes a message is left and you may have to wait a day for a response… or call back.

“You have cancer and high cholesterol,” my mother was told and then given a sheet of paper with a list of proper foods. She was also given a prescription for vitamin D and told to take vitamin C for her osteoporosis. When Ma tried to ask a question regarding an itching problem, she was told her time was up. She came home confused and scared with questions not answered.

I am disappointed with the whole system and how doctors (at least my mom’s) are handling her. I’ve made phone calls trying to find another doctor, but no one in the area are taking new patients.

The little boy started crying to go home and the man across the hall picked the child up. Our eyes met for a brief second and a moment of understanding passed. The hours crept by…

Today I am once more thinking about my art work, photography, and what gets me stuck. I want to do it all myself right down to the finish work of mounting, matting, and framing. I have questions in my mind and haven’t the courage to ask strangers for advice.

This last week I was accepted as a juried member by the Hillsboro Area Artisans and it is imperative that my work be “professional.” The exhibit at the library came down and in looking at the backing on the frames, I am not pleased with the work I did… and I’m not sure how to correct it.

Where do I go from here? Who do I ask? At the moment, I do not know any of my fellow artisans to approach them. After all, I am supposed to be professional. Shouldn’t I already know how to do this stuff?

At one point, I considered just doing the finish work cheaply. However, I realized that my original art would be seen as cheap, too. At this stage in my life work, I have to move forward and really be the professional that my years of experience dictate.

Ideally, I’d like to get into conversations about foam board, backing, glues, and mats. I’d like to visit a framing place and have someone show me what is done. I also figure that the more I talk about what I want, the more likely someone will come along who can help me with my dilemmas.

DECLINE
AN OBSERVATION

I watch her go downhill. Her memory seems to fade more every day. She constantly asks the same questions and she mixes up her information. For instance, she’ll take part of something my brother says and uses it with what someone else has said and not get any of it correct. I’m afraid she is going to offend friends… she has, but being friends, they forgive her.

She can’t remember when and if she takes her pills, but when I try to help, she is so picky about how it needs to be done. She refuses what I suggest.

She tries to hold onto control by trying to dictate my actions. She questions my movements, my spending, and where I go. She never tells me to “have fun” and she always makes a snide remark as I am going out the door which darkens my mood. Throughout my day, I worry and hope that she’s okay alone. If I go off with the same person often, she no longer likes that friend anymore. She doesn’t like anyone who takes up my time… or takes my time away from her.

Her first words in the morning are always about some ailment or other or why she couldn’t sleep. I swear she is looking to find something wrong. I can always tell when she is not feeling well because she gets nit-picky and finds fault with everything and everyone.

As long as I am doing something of which she approves, then she is okay. She likes my photography and charcoal drawings. She’s very critical of my writing and although she never cared for my poetry, she is proud of the book I published.

I easily lose patience.

Then I feel guilty.

My current “easy” lifestyle is all due to her and my aunt. Yep, the strings are attached, and in her decline, she ties them tighter. I chose this life; however, even in the choosing, reality can be a bitter pill.

I consider my role. I DID say that I would care for her… I didn’t say that I’d give up my life for her. Somehow, somewhere she turned into the strict family matriarch who tries to run the lives of everyone in her realm. (Personally, I think she reads too many of those romance novels.) When friends come over, she sits back and enjoys everyone waiting on her.

There’s a part of me that understands. How scary it must be to not remember every day things. She has always feared sickness and now that her body and mind are failing, she clings to whatever she can. She has given up all hobbies and has lost interest in things she used to love. Her favorite word is “can’t.”

What makes me the most---frustrated--- is that she is NOT that bad off. There’s no reason why she cannot do some of the things she used to. Sure, she cannot do them with the same ease, but she could still be active. She could be busy and not be lying around all day thinking about what could be wrong.

She says that I don’t have to baby sit her, but the moment I go off to do anything, she goes to bed. She says she reads, though whenever I look in, she’s lying back with her eyes closed or just staring into space. She loves her bed.

The only thing that she likes to do is to talk. Unfortunately, not watching tv, reading newspapers, or listening to the radio, conversation is repetitive and when she runs out of things to say, she starts finding fault.

It’s sad. I don’t want to be negative and I don’t want to find fault. I don’t want to sound like I am complaining. Part of this is very interesting and I wonder if I will be like her someday. Oh, I surely hope not! I think about her sister in the nursing home and the similarities. My aunt, after an active military career and subsequent civilian time, gave up and now I see my mother also giving up.

Is this part of what happens as one gets older? Maybe so… maybe the life energy just runs out. The mind and the body get tired. I wonder, in the teaching of Tai Chi and working with life energy, will my aging be different? Will there come a point in my life when I will give up? Will I become a cranky old lady who doesn’t remember how to be happy?
Naah, I don’t think so. Even when I do reach that time, my plan is to do so gracefully and peacefully. I will make a conscious choice to live life with as much joy as I can and even at times when I may seem negative there is that place in my mind that sees these situations as interesting. It’s all in what makes us tick, I guess.

PHOTOGRAPHY AND FILING INFO

One problem with having a wide variety of interests is that I have a hard time being organized. I get an idea then before I can implement it or get it finished, I am distracted and move onto something else.

This week I am trying to work on my photographs. I put together a series of barn pictures and haven’t reached the point where I feel that project is done. There’s more to do but I’ve moved on to covered bridges. I feel I am losing focus or rather, I am feeling overwhelmed. What about birds and flowers and machinery? When do I get to them?

Somehow, I need organization. I do have my photos in files on an external hard drive but there’s something missing in the information and I cannot quite figure out how to put it all together. I do quite a bit of cropping because I like to get in close to see fine detail and texture but I am discovering that in doing this, care must be taken in the size the photograph is printed. Paper and ink are wasted and time is lost because notes are not taken… could this be what “tags” are used for? Also, by not having complete notes, I end up repeating work or dealing with the same issues.

Better organization will keep me from making those mistakes but is detailed note taking feasible when there are thousands of pictures? Plus, what would be the best way to catalogue the information? I’ve thought about notebooks, a special Photography Journal, or 4x6 file cards with each card dedicated to a particular picture.

Notebooks and journals would run into a problem because the information would be all mish-mashed. Journals usually are recorded by date and if I tried to arrange a notebook… not even sure how that could be set up and how much reading would be done to look back on a subject. File cards might work but as I said, if I have thousands of pictures, would that be a realistic endeavor?

Do other photographers and artists go through this? Do they keep separate files? This, too, might be the difference in being a trained photographer and one who learns by trial and error. I’m still struggling to create that professional look. I suppose, too, that if I had the guts to talk to other photographers I might be able to come up with my own answers.

A PHOTOGRAPHER’S JOURNEY

My goal for this year is to promote my art work and this week I am working on photography. I have taken thousands of pictures and many of them are very good. I’ve sold a few note cards but I want to do more.

I printed some 5x7s and mounted and matted them as 8x10s and some of the barn photos are in frames and showing in the local library. Friends keep telling me that I should set up at fairs and shows. There’s a part of me that can see myself doing this but there’s a part that seems to find excuses not to get it done.

I am easily distracted and have many questions. I know what I like, but would other people? For the past few years, I’ve traveled to area events and looked at other peoples’ work. Yes, my photographs are just as good, so what holds me back?

It’s the “finished” product. What to do with the pictures and how to do it are roadblocks. I get “stuck” on some of the stupidest things… that self sabotage… and cannot seem to get beyond them.

For instance, there are many adhesives, tapes, and dots to aid in the mounting and matting and I haven’t found the one to be most comfortable in using. Personal preferences can also be a hindrance as what I like isn’t always what most others use. I like matte paper and with digital want to print my own projects but then a comment is made that photos need to be printed professionally or on a certain kind of printer. Some want glossy photos. Arrghh!

I would be very interested to hear other photographers and artists talk about their work and how they “do it.” Maybe this ties in to the actually setting up and selling--- talking to people, promoting the work--- even on-line, I would have to approach someone.

In the end, I know it’s all about being comfortable in my work. I am passionate about the photography and want to share the joys that are found in patterns, textures, colors, light, shadow, and lines. I know, too, I just have to shut up and do it. And I am.

A DAY IN THE LIFE OF AN ARTIST

I am listening to birds but with leaves on the trees, I now can’t see many. I did see five geese fly right over head. Oh, those times when I cannot pick up the camera fast enough. One of these days I will catch that shot.

Yesterday I worked on making a brochure to highlight some of the art work that I do. I also printed two 5 x 7 pictures of owls and I’ve mounted and matted them. I’m pleased with the outcome though I am finding another hurdle to overcome with white mats. No matter how careful I am, I often end up with a thumb print on the white and cannot get it off. I’m not sure I can salvage those smudged mats. I’m going to try to re-paint the entire mat.

Lessons in perseverance, I guess. Perhaps that’s the price for not going to art or photography school--- I have to learn by trial and error. Such as it is, and I’ll just add that to my list of “things to pay attention to” along with learning how to attach the pictures and matting to the mounting board. There are many adhesives, tapes, and dots out there and I’ve been experimenting with what works the best.

Then again, we all have things we are good at and some that we are not.

Today I’ll add an artist’s bio plus an excerpt from my poetry-picture book to the brochure. I also want to print two more pictures as I am building an inventory of photographs for sale. I also need to work on a write up for these pictures to tell people about the matted piece, the artist, and contact information.

I have quite a few ideas and it all involves work and outside of doing the actual art, everything else IS WORK… which I tend to avoid. My goal for this year is to put myself out there more and that means self promotion. I am considering opening a store on etsy.com because I think I read that you can list things for three months which is more appealing than e-bay’s seven days (unless the item sells right away, of course.)

Gayle and I went to the Warner Arts Festival the other day and I can almost see myself set up with a booth. Almost. I did buy an E-Z Up last year but did not have the courage to go public. Everytime I attend one of the artisans fairs, I am more inspired. I CAN DO THIS! Perhaps if I build my inventory and get the pieces “finished,” I’ll feel ready.

Everyone is encouraging. Yes, I can do this!

TODAY’S CHOICES

The bird baths need cleaning.

I continue to struggle with choices. Many things interest me and I flit from one project to the next seldom finishing anything.

Unnamed weeds seemed to have grown overnight on the lawn.

Is this a form of self-sabotage? Is this a way to confirm that I am a failure? But I am not… not really. I love my life and I enjoy doing what I do. I just happen to like a lot of things.

The orioles are looking for jelly.

I make lists of the projects I want to do. I’m lucky if by week’s end I have checked off one. Two of my easels have unfinished charcoal landscape drawings on them. Those things I like to let sit for a few days before going back for touch ups--- they’ve been there over a week. Well, the weeks do turn into months.

I want to list a couple of cards on etsy.com.

I need to bring in some money to pay for these art projects, but I lack the motivation to research promotion. I don’t dare speak to store managers. I want to do the art work, but I do not enjoy the act of selling. It would be nice to have a manager--- but again, I’d have to be able to talk and sell myself.

The newest garden needs to be designed.

Last fall I had randomly planted flowers and now, before any more work is done in that area, I must come up with a design. Never being much of a gardener, I enjoy doing bits of it. It’s all small steps, and experimentation in what will grow and what won’t.

Perhaps the different kinds of mint should be put in containers.

I’m falling behind on the garden journal. I haven’t edited the last batch of pictures and I am about to download the recent ones taken. I have some gorgeous shots of the cherry blossoms which will make nice cards. I also want to have pictures and information on each plant that I have in my yard. I’m learning to take care of them.

I need to make a forward movement with my book.

I self published a book in December but I am not happy with the printing costs at lulu.com. I have been told about a local printer and an area editor thought that they could print the book at a much cheaper cost allowing me to sell at a lower price. I need to go there and talk to someone as I’ll need a new cover design and new isbn number.

Maybe I was wrong to try something different.

I’m a poet, photographer, and artist---basically a jack-of-all-trades and certainly master of none. The book is about life and contains poetry and pictures (photographs and pictures of some of my art work) and in a world where there are attempts to organize and categorize everything, my work doesn’t quite fit.

I need to make signs for my gardens.

I have ten grandchildren and ten sections of fence that borders one of the flower gardens. I named each section after one of the kids. I’m still learning what plants are there and have to keep counting fence sections to figure out whose garden I am working in. I am thinking about getting a little wood burning kit to put the child’s name on the cross beam of fence.

I could work on the bags.

A friend of mine gave me a couple of big boxes of upholstery fabric samples and I plan on making medicine or charm bags. I love the colors and textures and I bought quilting squares for the liners. I have enough material to last a lifetime. I have a clear vision in my head of how I want these bags to look. I just have to make the time to do them.

The boxes of beads are calling.

Everytime I look at my earrings I think that I need to re-do them. They were made at a time when I liked long, dangly ones and now I prefer short ones that won’t catch in my hair or collar. I could also be redesigning my necklaces to bring a newer sparkle to them. Maybe I could even make two sets of everything--- one to keep and one to sell. I really should be working towards bringing in some money to pay for all these supplies.

I find the most appealing pieces of bark and seed pods.

I have quite a collection of items to use in my multi-media combo projects and I haven’t worked on one of them for six years. Then again, my mom isn’t too impressed with them though I have great fun creating them. Ma’s criticism is… a killer to creative talent.

I could go on and as you can see, I can sit here and let words run rampant in my head. I can stare out the window and let the beauty of the field and mountains take me into other realms. It’s all about choice and right now I am going to choose to work on photographs.

Ahhh, life is so interesting.

HEART PATH OBSTACLES

Seems I have struggled for years with this thing called heart. Oh, these walls that I have built so strong! Everytime I try to take them down, something comes along to slam me. Why is that?

When I reached my thirties, I began the quest to become a better person--- a woman that I could like and be happy with. My studies were eclectic and the journey very interesting.

Once I met a woman who was so totally filled with compassion that my reaction was, “I could never be like that.” Yet throughout the years, I have often thought about that feeling, and although I’ve not experienced that with anyone since, a part of me looks for that compassion; that part of me that still desires to be a better person.

But when you’ve spent a lifetime building walls around your heart, how do you reach through the layers?

One time I decided to do a meditative vision quest. In my mind, I went to “my place” on a hill and waited through the night. I danced with deer and foxes. Skunks came to sit in my lap. With the dawn, came the bear. He rose up higher than I was standing. I didn’t know whether to run or stay. He reached his huge claws towards me and in the moment he ripped into my flesh, he turned into a man and with a knife, began stabbing at my heart, chipping away the ice in which it was encased.

Talk about a big “Wow” moment! But it didn’t last. I continued with every day life never figuring out how to bring the spiritual into the commonplace. I read many books and attended all kinds of seminars and classes but never did I again reach that part of my heart that lied buried in ice.

Too sensitive, I built stronger walls as frustrations grew on the job and my voice was silenced. As my spirituality grew so did my lack of tolerance in the “not fairs” surrounding me. I became an emotional wreck and my only comfort was solitude and nature. The more I tried to practice balance and harmony, the further away it got. How could I call myself a spiritual being when I couldn’t handle daily life?

I eventually quit that job, relationships ended, and the goal of becoming a hermit got closer. If I wasn’t close to people, I couldn’t be hurt, could I? I could sit on my mountaintop and alone, I could feel compassion for the world.

Ironically, as that time for solitary living nears, I realize that I don’t want to be alone. I know too, that my issues are not resolved. I still have trouble being “out in the world.” All the running away and hibernating did not open my heart. I’ve often said that it’s easy for monks to be compassionate when they stay in their monasteries and not have to face real world. I am not ready to give up that real world.

So once more I am back looking at my heart issues. Most of the time, I am content. My heart is filled with much gratitude. I am returning to the spiritual, however, I notice that by opening up, I am once more allowing myself to be hurt.

What is it about this heart stuff that causes pain? Am I just too sensitive as I’ve been told all my life?

The Buddhists believe that we are here to experience suffering. Perhaps… but I also believe that life is much more. Maybe the purpose is to experience the pain with an open, loving heart and I’ve just not been able to get past the pain. Jeez, after all these years and all this training, I still don’t get it?

Every time I feel hurt, I pull in and build tighter walls. That’s not the answer. I know better, yet every time I think I’ve got it, something else causes me to crash. I peek out. Maybe I’ll be safe this time… then slam!

The trick, though not really a trick, is to keep the heart open and not close down; to keep the heart loving in spite of the hurt; to be able to say, “I know you hurt, but it’s okay.”

I am working again with a Native American Medicine, this time a Holy Man. These past few weeks I have spent much time in prayer but today, with this writing, a revelation. I finally “get it.” Another layer is taken down as what I was told sinks in.

“Think from your heart not with your head.” I have heard this often and now realize that when I am in prayer, I am always “thinking” about what I need to say and who I need to pray for and what I need to be thankful for--- which is all in my head while my heart remains solid with its walls erect and strong.

(In this moment, my mind jumps to, “you can’t always think from your heart” and that is true to an extent. You do need the logic from your brain but as I am currently not in balance, I need to develop heart openness.)

New challenges come with this latest work. I am not ready to deal with them, but evidently, Spirit feels otherwise. Right off the bat, the rug is pulled from under me and friendships and loyalties are in question. I want to run away and hide and never come out.

I want to scream, “Not fair!” I don’t want to feel that I am in the wrong (although there is no wrong nor blame.) I am working on taking down the walls, but this situation makes me feel I have to keep them up (which is the really true challenge.) I am hurt and scared and feeling betrayed. I don’t feel safe… and yes, there is some anger… all these issues of the heart.

What am I to do?

Keep working. I pray and meditate more than twice a day. I tap (EFT.) I want to take down the barriers and walls that I’ve spent a lifetime building. I want my heart to feel whole and healthy and I want to feel safe around people.

I found this article really interesting and I've responded in the end. Forgive any faux pas for reprinting...

How Full is Your Cup?
By Michael Angier
"Wisdom is meaningless until our own experience has given it meaning."
Bergen Evans
I was trying to counsel a young man the other day who was less than receptive to taking advice.
He said he wanted help, but in fact he wanted someone to fix his problems. He said he wanted advice, but instead he wanted to be right.
Isn't it interesting when people have all the answers and no money?
Here was someone who was broke and had no job. His life wasn't working. You'd think he would be willing to learn, but sadly, this was not the case.
I'm reminded of the story of the young mystic who traveled a great distance to study at the feet of a revered sage. When the young man arrived, he proceeded to try and impress the master with how much he knew and how wise he was.
Instead of asking questions, the student went on about his beliefs and philosophies. The master listened quietly for a long while.
Finally, the student stopped talking for a few moments. The master asked his guest if he would like some tea. "Why, yes," the young man replied.
The old man began to pour the tea into his visitor's cup. But he didn't stop when the cup was full. He continued to pour as the tea over flowed into the saucer and then onto the table top where it began to run out on the floor.
"Stop!" the young man said. "The cup is full. Can't you see? It can hold no more."
"It's true," the wise one said. "We cannot put more into an already full cup. And you are like that cup. Until you empty yourself of yourself, your fullness will prevent you from learning."
To some extent, we're all a bit like the young man. We sometimes have to let go of what we think we know in order to embrace new ideas.
We're always free to pick up our old beliefs and "knowings" at a later time, but we need to be open in order to look at things in a new way.
We need to approach knowledge with the wonder and openness of a child. This way, we keep from missing important lessons and learning helpful life strategies.
It's not easy, but we can learn to suspend our beliefs in order to listen with a clear and open mind. If we do, we won't be one of those people referred to when people use the cliché, "You can't teach an old dog new tricks."
Where is your cup too full? In what instances do you close yourself off because you "already know that?" It's easy to finish someone's thoughts in your head when they are speaking.
But in doing so, you may very well miss what they have to offer because of the filters you've created.
Watch yourself over the next week and look for times when your cup is too full to learn something new. It may surprise you.
---------------------------
Michael Angier, founder of SuccessNet.org, recently released the New SuccessNet Resource Book “Top Must-Have Tools, Products, Services and Resources for Running Your Business Effectively”
http://successnet.org
_________________________________________________________________________



Interesting, isn't it.

This has often been true for me, I will admit. Like when I first started hearing about EFT. People were saying how great it was, but I didn't want to hear it. There are times when I DO feel so full that I cannot take on any more. For me, what I have to do is work with what I have to determine what works and what doesn't and when I am not willing to do the work or practices, then I am not releasing anything to make room for some new stuff. BUT I recognize that about me.

I've not taken a lot of time to weed out the stuff that I don't need or use. Jeez, all those seminars and classes that I've taken and I have all this stuff inside me. I haven't dumped it all because a lot of it is good stuff, but then, I haven't really used it either. Maybe it is taking up space inside me and there's no room for anything new.

It's not like I can sit here and tell you everything I know. Gosh, I've forgotten most of everything I've ever learned. But if you started talking something similar, there would be something inside me saying, "Yeah, I know that," and a part of me would shut down to what you are telling me. My tea cup would be overflowing at the same time I would be shutting down. Does that make sense?

Hmmm, I wonder what all this means... and as I always admit, if I am unwilling to practice daily, how can I expect those I work with to develop a daily practice. I have learned some phenomenal healing techniques but if I don't practice I cannot teach and if I don't do that, then it is wasted and it stagnates inside blocking anything new that might come in.

There's this part of me, though, that fully believes I can take everything I've learned, pull up all that I really like and build it into a wonderful technique. Everything else I could let go. I'd like to use the Sedona Method with the EFT and meld it with the meditative movements of Tai Chi and the healing powers of hands on/massage. I would like to use aspects of other teachings to incorporate them into what I do... the Vulnerable Leadership Training, Art, Writing to Heal...
but if I am not actually doing the practices myself, how can I work it with other people?

And then, on the other hand, when I am so full of all THIS stuff, how can I take on anything else? Then again, I have to be comfortable when face to face with others to be able to talk... walk my talk. Hmm, guess I should be doing a lot of tapping, ha ha.

At least I do have a goal for this year... learning to walk my talk, promoting myself, getting my work out there to make money and whether I am talking of the healing or the art, for me, it's one and the same.

A BEAUTIFUL SPRING MORNING

The sun rises in a pale sky. The crescent moon now hides. Birds chirp their happy songs… the harmony broken by the discordant squawk of a blue jay. Frost lies on the field grasses and the water in the bird bath is frozen. Soon, though, the sun’s warmth will transform the day.
Early flowers are blossoming in others’ gardens while here it is slow. With my yard surrounded by trees, the sun only penetrates for a few hours. I’ve been raking and my body is suffering the strain of unusual activity. The results are worth it and the discoveries found after removing leaves and debris are exciting.
I was never much of a gardener and since moving here, my attempts are sporadic. This property is too big for me to maintain alone and I have to rely on help from good friends. Still, I love the plants and flowers. I am amazed how the growth can change day to day and I try to walk around every day taking note of the colors bursting forth.
The lawn isn’t as green and vibrant as when we first moved in three years ago but yesterday’s raking has given it new life. I was surprised that a short time after clearing the area, the ground looked more green.
There’s holes… tunnels… Does this mean something will be getting to my flowers? I know we have grubs and the soil probably needs some good fertilizer.
Yes, I like my gardens and enjoy the colors and fragrances of flowers, but most the time, I’d rather be inside. Since living here, I have been making a gardening journal. Each year it has evolved, as has the garden. Every week or two, I take pictures and notes then put them together in an album. It’s quite interesting to mark the growth from shoots first bursting from the ground til the plant goes to seed.
Some of the gardens are old and overrun by day lilies, lilacs, and vinca. Division is definitely needed. I’ve done a little but get distracted easily. Then there are new flowers to buy and plant and another garden area to develop. One of my goals is to turn areas where the grass doesn’t grow well into flower gardens. I’d much rather have flowers than areas to mow.
And right now, the beauty of the morning is calling. Perhaps I’ll go against norm of writing and picture work and head outside early.

HEALING AND HONORING THE SELF


My mind has been jumping trying to decide how to proceed, who to call, and do we drop everything when someone needs a healing. It's funny how things seem to happen at once. One minute I feel I don't have much of a life, then the next minute I am feeling bogged down with so much going on.

I've been getting some feedback from all of you and what is coming to me this morning is that we are all on a learning curve. These past couple months, few weeks, have brought us different and not so different concepts. We are having our... selves... challenged and tossed around. Some of it excites us, some of it makes us uncomfortable, some it scares the whey out of us, and some of it makes us angry. Some of it we believe and some of it we don't.

This is spring, a place of new beginnings, and we are discovering better understandings of who we are as women and individuals. These latest teachings are having an impact on our lives and the biggest thing that is coming out for me right now is in HONORING THE SELF. This is where we make the decision of what we want to believe and what to leave behind. We know that we don't have to believe everything that is said to us and that what is true for me might not be so for you. And that is okay! We still love and respect one another.

Another thing that is coming up for me is that our Tuesday nights are VERY IMPORTANT... for us and I agree that we need to keep our time special. We need that opportunity to be and to let down and be able to have a little chance where we don't have to be totally responsible and we can cry and grieve or rant and rave. We need that time so that we can go back to family and clients with a whole heart.

One of the hardest lessons in life to learn is to set boundaries and learn to say no... then again, some of us need to learn to speak up, ha ha. (My next goal is to approach printing places to get a cheaper printing for my book--- and I have to be able to talk to them.) And even though we are a group, we don't do things the same and we don't have to. That's what's so amazing about us. I love our individual styles! I love that we have such diversity and yet come together in peace, love, and respect.

Now, in doing group healings... I said from the beginning that we don't all have to participate. It's up to each one of us to decide when she wants to and when she's able to. Sometimes too, there are people we cannot work on and we respect ourselves for that. However, I do think we should set a time when, as a group, we would be available to do a group healing--- and that's not saying you'd have to come. For Tuesday night, I'd like to come up with one or two days/evenings a month that would be set aside for group healings. That way we'd all know that there might be something coming up.

This doesn't mean that another time or instance might happen. We set our own boundaries and we have to honor ourselves for our choices. This isn't always easy because sometimes we want to do something and just cannot...
and we have to honor that, too. I know from personal experience that it's hard not to beat yourself up.

So, in closing, I just want to remind everyone to be true to yourselves. When new teachings resonate with you, take it in. If something doesn't, then it doesn't. You know what works for you and what doesn't. Honor yourself.
We are growing and getting better all the time.