The Dementia

I really would love to sit down with her and have a nice lunch.  It's always hell.  Invariably, she says, "I'm going to have to have a talk with the bank about why I'm not getting my bank statements."  I've been here a year.  The first ten times she said this, I got up from lunch and pulled her bank statements out of her rolltop desk.  "You get them every month." I finally, ever so slowly realized that it did not matter how many times I told her, she would still believe she doesn't get them.  She is the one who gets the mail out of the box, religiously.  She opens them, she puts them in her desk.  And, she forgets them.  It took a long time before I realized that she did not even keep up with what she spent.  Anyone could have walked away with all of it.  Thankfully, she had caring, honest people around her.  The last time I got the statements out of the desk for her, she spent an interminably long time leafing through them and attempting to put them in order, first page, second page, with the correct dates.  I had watched this in the beginning with the Sunday newspaper.  I'm aware now, that this is something "they" do.  One of the hardest parts is being so very painfully aware that, given the family history: six sisters, all with some form of brain dysfunction, I may follow in her footsteps. 

So, writing this is my therapy, in hopes that I may save my own brain/sanity.  And, maybe yours, too.

 

And, while I type, she entered by room for the fourth time with her diamond watch with the broken piece.  I asked her to put it in a box.  We would take it with her class ring to get fixed.  She had "lost" her class ring.  I found it in her jewelry box.  On one of the 4 trips, she brought me a diamond ring and said I could have it.  She asked if I thought my son, Jesse, would want her deceased husband's watch.  I had to tell her I would close my door so I could get some work done.  Dealing with this is exhausting.  And, I know worse is coming.  And, I know others endure more.  It doesn't make it any easier to deal with.  It doesn't diminish the frustration.  I have prayed and continue to, as I know others have also.  I pray to have God's heart and eyes, to help me see and feel compassion for her.  I pray for miracles as I feel my bucket drain.  Maybe this is the best I have.

And, the heart doctor's office called this morning to say that the pacemaker machine had detected something over the weekend and he wants to see mother. When I asked about it, she said he wants to make sure she is taking her medicine.  I'm wondering if her GP relayed the situation. She had taken 90 days of her statin meds in 60 days. It's the only one she takes consistently, I think because she thinks it helps her sleep.  I told them they would have to tell her in no uncertain terms that I am to be administering her medicines, and I will record them telling her.  Anything less than recording that simply won't work, as I have told her GP.  When I try to help with meds, it just creates a huge nightmare. It doesn't help matters that I don't agree with all the prescriptions.  I have left it to God, and she is still here. 

getting better at reading the signs

I'm 64 years old.  Last year I left Phoenix, moved back to Georgia to care for my 89 year old mother who has dementia and OCD.  My life movie is either "Travelling with Cats," or "The Twilight Zone/Ground Hog Day Mashup."

Every day I wake up and count my blessings.  Usually, I'm glad I woke up. Grateful to have this time to be with mother, heal old wounds, grow on.  Today I was awake at 4:30 a.m. when I heard a noise on the deck that joins with my bedroom wall.  No way to look outside.  For years mother has been adamant that someone is out there harassing there, The Neighbor.  Now, I know it's raccoons.  How do I know? 

My mother hates (my) cats. They are my 6-year-old rescue babies. She refuses to let them in the house, so I purchased a rabbit/chicken coop for them to sleep in at night.  There they are safe from  foxes and coyotes, who live in the woods our property borders.  Our property.  I'm beginning to take ownership, it's an awkward position, parenting our parents.  One morning when I went out to the back yard to release the cats, I was greeted with a mess.  Something (raccoons) had stood on the plastic kitty litter container, reached through the chicken wire and opened the plastic container where the food stays.  The container was almost empty and the water bucket beside the outside faucet was muddy.  They had stopped to take a bath.

Today I watched Silver Lining Playbook and stayed in bed late.  Feeding my recent fascination with the amazing depth of Bradley Cooper.  I was struck by how much his mannerisms reminded me of my own son, now 21 and living with his girl in Cincinnati.  I don't remember if we watched this movie together or not.  I remember watching it on his monitor in his room when he was about 14. 

As I take care of cleaning the kitty litter from the box in the coop this morning, thinking already, again, about writing the movie of my life, the plastic grocery bag I pull out to put the crap in has a hole in the bottom, great metaphor for my life.  Upon closer inspection, I'm trying to be more present in my life, I notice it is a heart-shaped hole.  I laugh , thinking about the line from the movie, about how you have to get good at reading the signs.

It seems like sometimes things line up.  Some call it synchronicity.  In the south, we say it only happens when you hold your mouth just right.  But, sometimes that  feels like trying to control life.  Maybe life is like water, it flows when you let it go. 

Making friends with what is

I am so grateful to live now.  There are many who are awakening and sharing their knowledge and understanding. I feel less alone now than I ever have.  I will share with you the people I am learning from or shall we say un-learning or re-learning?

Byron Katie.  I had heard her name for years before I decided to look her up.  I thought she was one of the founders of Unity.  I guess it wasn't the right time. Once I discovered her, I watched every youtube video I could find.  Sweet loving kind funny honest open wise.  I feel so blessed. (Since I drafted this blog post more than a couple years ago, she has gained some notoriety and public acclaim, thankfully.)

Eckhart Tolle.  Yeah, yeah, yeah... be present.  I even read (at least a bit) of a book.  Didn't do anything for me.  Then I watched videos of him.  I love the way he is able and willing to just sit and be silent.  Which brings me to...

Ssshhh. 

Greg Baer.  He's been telling me to shut up for 17 years. He meant it for my benefit,  but of course that triggered the sound of my mom's voice and fell on deaf ears.  I have toyed with it over those 17 years, the practice of silence, and have become more peaceful as a result.  Thanks, Greg.

 
A book entitled "Inner Excavation," Liz Lamoreux, encourages us to explore self without the confines of having it look a certain way... so many ways to let go, eliminate self-criticism, judgment and stumbling blocks. Loosen up! 

Dance like no one is watching, because they probably aren't (people are way too self-absorbed, or in their phone's virtual world).  Life is too short to waste worrying about much of anything.  In short? Be real.  Be honest. Be happy.  Be real happy.  Be.

Summer Camp is ON!

The heat is on, and so are... Summer Camps!

This pic is actually from one of my previous school classes: 3D self-portraits

I'm doing somethings differently this year!  Instead of charging a fee, I'm asking for donations of Michael's gift cards to buy supplies!  I'm also asking each student to fill out an information form that will help me to design projects suited just for them!  I'm also changing the times and group sizes.  Groups will consist of no more than 4 students and run from 9 a.m. - noon and from 2 p.m. until 5 p.m.  This will allow me to better manage the projects, and add some resting downtime, too!

I'm really tickled about this summer's camp and can't wait to meet the participants.  We will be doing everything from paint to papier mache sculpture and anything else the kids want to try!  No particular skill level required, just the desire to create!  This camp can complement what the student is learning in their school, or, I can start with the basics, just for them!

Call me at 706-409-6696, for more information or to get started!

In lieu of great pics.... here is my car magnet, and front porch sign... smh.

Making Art and Helping Our Aging Parents

I'm not sure exactly how these two topics are going to merge, but I think they might.

 I spent one evening with my paints and canvases all over my kitchen table and counters, exploring myself and my process.  This is not usually a comfortable process as most artists know.  I can say this because I found confirmation that I am not alone in this recently in my local Barnes and Noble searching for inspiration.  I found it in the form of a book entitled "Art & fear - Observations on the Perils (and Rewards) of Artmaking," by David Bayles and Ted Orland.

It felt like one of those strokes of divine and magical inspiration when it landed in my hands... on the artistic struggle.

I was feeling sad when I left her yesterday.  I felt like she is going down hill.  She was lying on the sofa when we got there.  She has been lying down several times lately when we got there.  I don't think I ever remember seeing her lie down during the day.  I have often been over in the last few months and she would be sitting on the sofa sleeping, but never lying down.  She says she falls asleep every time she sits down.  My son agrees.  She has lost 9 pounds since she got sick. I cried on the way home, and voiced my concerns to my coworkers today, and asked them to pray for her and by the time we spoke around noon (mom and I), she sounded like her old self.  She said she had eaten, and wasn't satisfied and had eaten more.  She slept good all night long and didn't even hear her alarm.  She really sounded wonderful.  So, I guess maybe she'll be okay, for a while longer.  Although she'll probably have some bad days before she's really "back."  And, yes, I know she won't ever really be "back." 

I'm really going to have a bad time with this.  We have had some terrible times, but we've also had some good ones.  She is very important to me, probably too much so, I know.  She's going to leave a big hole in my life.  She has helped me raise my son and I couldn't have done it without her. I wish I could have healed faster.  I never felt like enough: mature enough, responsible enough, whatever, fill in the blank, and not because I haven't tried.  I've come to believe I really have done the best I could.  I love her very much, even though I also can't stand her a lot of the time. 

All this, with the knowledge that she could possibly outlive us all. 

Sometimes I think I'm PMS, even though I haven't had a period in at least 12 years.  This might be one of those blogs I should only send to myself. I'm working on letting myself be more vulnerable, transparent, and communicative.  So, here I am, in a puddle.

Please don't feel like you need to even respond, it just feels good to know you're there, reading.  And, I hope it doesn't upset you. I know we are "supposed" to be a light and uplift... maybe that's where the art comes in.  This weekend will be my second "Whole-Hearted Art" workshop for Cancer survivors.  I'm thinking we should do a workshop for Life Survivors... for those of us who are still here. 

So, we sit at a table and make art out of books and magazines that were destined for recycling.  Kind of the way we are making art out of lives that are destined for ... light?

Soul Food Workshop Win! Yay me!

I'm posting this because it's been sooooooo loooooong since I won anything, let alone something I wanted... well.  My luck has changed.  http://www.mystele.com/mystele-paint/2013/8/26/soul-foodheather-santos-and-giveaway-winner.html  Sweet! More about the upcoming workshop here http://www.mystele.com/soul-food/

This one of Mystele's.  Isn't it beautiful!  I can't wait. 

The First Whole-Hearted Art Workshop Follow-Up

Time for reflection, follow up, decompression.  It was #1... the first of it's kind-by-me, Whole-Hearted Art workshop.

First, I must admit to some pretty uncomfortable feelings.  (Is it a southern-thing to use the word "pretty" to mean a certain quantity or type of something?)  I was humbled by the burden and pain several of the Cancer survivors/attendees were dealing with, maybe all of them, but a couple shared some details that would have put the average person in the dirt.  These women were no average people.  The strength and determination, and heart of the human being is so blinking enormous.  I'm in awe.  I don't know what I may have been able to offer them that will help, I introduced them to what I know, which seemed to pale in comparison to what they were dealing with.  What they gave me was huge.  They showed up, they jumped in, they made a page or a spread in an altered book.  They began, probably their first, art journal.

I realized later, I could have given better art instruction.  I really wanted to share Real Love with them, so I focused mainly on communicating some basics about that.  I can also see now that I was too focused on what I was trying to say, and not really connecting as much as I'd have like with each person.

So, maybe going forward, I'd like to read some from the Real Love books, in a more comfortable setting, like a living room set up... big comfy couches and a comfortable floor to sit on, and later move more into tables set up for art for the altered books.  I intend to do some follow up this week, in order to really connect with the women who were there, and get there take on whether they'd be interested in more information and/or more art workshops.

So, all in all, I guess it was a success.  I did it.  I faced my fears.  I started with an idea and followed through.  I realized my fears, flaws and shortcomings.  I appreciate my own relatively pain-free, healthy existence.  I appreciate the burdens that others are carrying.  More and more daily, I guess I'm believing that we really don't know what others around us are going through, you can't judge a book by it's cover.  I guess that would be a good analogy to pursue, altering books, like our lives are altered, making conscious choices what to cover with gesso, and what to write in them.  What catchy slogans and quotes motivate us to go on when the going gets tough... what inspires us.  How do we become the person we want to be, the one we came here to become, the one that got squashed growing up.  Who are we?  Who do we want to be?  Do we really all just want to be loved?  Do we even recognize it when it's there right in front of us?  Lots of questions.  The answers, hopefully, are in the journey.

For Cancer Survivors Workshop

What on earth qualifies me to think I can conduct a workshop with cancer survivors???!!!

I'm not one myself.
I'm neither a therapist nor a counselor in the strictest sense of the terms.

I do, however, have some qualifications:

I'm a survivor.  Period.
I’m a survivor of a great number of soul-sucking trials in life.
I survived my childhood and the myriad stupid mistakes I've since added to all that trauma.
I was fortunate enough to meet someone like myself who'd been hurt, lived to tell about it, and, better yet, figured out a way to help me and others like us.
I've been applying the principles I've been taught for over 17 years now with incredible success.
I've become very close to many others with various traumas and backgrounds who have done the same thing.
I have come to understand that although the pain of cancer and other medical conditions, is indeed horrible, the pain of unmet emotional needs is even worse.
Our needs may be met, after which the emotional wounds heal, and this allows the other pains to be lessened also.
Much research has been done that shows that the more loved and peaceful we are, the better we thrive in every way.
Lastly, but most importantly, I have a desire to share these principles and to show others how to live lives filled with joy.

Lastly:

I leave people with not only a personal experience of feeling unconditionally loved, but resources such as free conference calls daily and group meetings, and a community of hundreds of others worldwide who are learning to be loving.

A Fitting Farewell and Tribute to Pappy

In one of my last posts, I referred to a friend at work who had asked me to paint a portrait of the family pet who had recently departed and left a big hole (mostly in the husband's lap).  It was my first attempt at painting a dog, so I don't think it's wonderful by any means, but she seemed satisfied with it.  I will post the final pic, and then the different stages it went through, just in case any of my artist friends are perusing.

His mom and dad love flying, and that's their plane in the sky.  I worked from a photo, and added one of his favorite balls, and the little collar/tie.  I'm really glad I had the opportunity to do this for my friend and her husband, it was very challenging and a lot of fun! 

Perking... creating vision! It's always about C O L O U R !!

Well.  Every time I step out and move in the direction of my dreams, I get scared and run. and hide. And don't come out for the longest time.  This. Has. Got. To. Stop.  Or I'll run out of time.

Have you ever felt that way?  I'm not sure exactly what the damper is.  Maybe my dream isn't clear enough.  Maybe I haven't tried hard enough to conquer my stumbling blocks.  I am, however, moved in this moment to at least write about it.  Maybe if I just write about it, clarity will come.



I am SOOOO grateful to my mentors, who may or may not even know they are my mentors... I believe I have mentioned Flora before.  Flora Bowley.  She just rocks.  This blog http://braveintuitiveyou.com/blog/2013/04/20/30-day-blog-love-affair-day-19/ just inspired me to blog again... to breath new life into my dreams.  And, 



My sweet friend, Deb Cleveland, http://inspiredbydebcleveland.com/2013/03/how-are-you-investing-your-hard-earned-money/ Real Estate Investing Guru, AND, artist-with-colour-extraordinaire, is always about living the Dream. 

So, for today, working on clarity, and, The Dream.

Whole-Hearted Art Workshop Coming to Rome, Georgia

Some dreams come true quickly, others take time.  My childhood dream was to live life to its fullest.  I guess I will only have realized that or not, at the end of it.  But, as I walk along my path, sometimes I feel like I'm on track, sometimes not so much.

Seeing the photo of myself, taken by my son, paintbrush in hand, on the flyer for my workshop, was a jolt.  But, as I've been counseled:  It isn't about me.  It's about service.  It's about me being there for others.  As long as I focus on loving and serving I will be led and guided: inspired.

The idea for this workshop has been "perking" for several years now.  It is a form of "paying it forward."  If you have read any of my other blog posts, you already know about Greg and Donna Baer, and Real Love. You can learn more about Real Love at www.reallove.com  Greg says that "we" in the Real Love community know more about love than most people on the planet, and doesn't mean that in any kind of arrogant way.  We know what Real Love is and more importantly, what it isn't.  So, even though I am far, very far, from being perfectly loving, I know enough to pass the information on, and hopefully, the love, too.

"As we move through our lives, it’s inevitable we will experience pain and find ourselves in painful situations. There are principles that will help us to heal. Most of us have never experienced the kind of love we all need. This workshop will not only introduce you to the principles, but also to the love, unconditional love, that you need. Combined with art, journalling, movement… you will take home not only a large, mixed media work of art symbolizing your journey, but an art journal for future use, the tools you need to move through your life more peacefully and happily, AND, a network of real friends to share your path with! Everything is included in the price of $165."

It will be this coming weekend, Friday, January 11, 2013, from 6:00 p.m. - 9:00 p.m. and Saturday, January 12, 2013, from 10:00 a.m. until 5:15 p.m.  If you are in the Rome, Georgia area, I hope you will consider attending, for your happiness, and for the happiness of all those around you.  

Well.  Talking about eliminating clutter.  I will NEVER forget taking wheelbarrow after wheelbarrow FULL and running over, to the dumpster and joyfully emptying it. 

It all started with the journals.  Thankfully, I was sitting on a real love conference call, with a journal in my lap (NOT an art journal, don't worry!), listening to people get loved, when the thought occurred to me.  If I didn't like reading about all my trials at that point, what made me think I'd EVER want to rehash the crap!??  I took a deep breath and shared on the call, that I was thinking about tossing them in the dumpster... one less thing to put into storage.  My dear friend and coach, Alex, laughed and shared my angst.  And the dumping began.  At one point I even broke the wheelbarrow with the load!  Journals, supplies, clothes, art books even!  Gasp!  There was so much that I knew if I'd never used until that day, I was never going to.  Done. Fini.  Over. 

Yes, I probably should have donated much of it, but I was tired and the pure joy in just heaving it could not be denied.  And, now, months later, I've only missed one thing.  Pretty darn cool.  Much less stuff is NOT a bad thing!  Simplicity.

I had a six foot tall cabinet I'd had made just for storing fabric.  I did give away the cabinet and probably half the fabric.  I saved only the pieces I just couldn't let go of, and they now dominate one corner of my living room, along with my sewing machine.  I'm actually making progress on my quilt and will hopefully get some other things made in the coming vacation days around the holidays.  I also gave away 2 desks, bookshelves, a t.v., and thankfully I don't even remember all of it!

We stayed with mum for 6 weeks, until it was just too heavy a weight to lift, then with a friend for 2-3 more.  Sleeping on the floor at 57 is not something anyone wants to do for too long.  Then, finally the time came and we found a sweet little duplex near my son's school.  He can walk right through the woods, and it's even a bit picturesque, with knock out roses under the front window, green shutters against the brick walls, with cedar shake soffits.  Small, and nothing like the farmhouse in the country, but quite livable, and much warmer, and closer in to town, but not too close! 

In the last week, I think I finally rested and recovered enough that I've begun to rise early and do my yoga.  I also began juicing last week.  Oh.  My.  Goodness.  Yum.  I have wanted to do this for a long time, but just wasn't ready.  I'm a firm believer in all things in their own time.  I'm feeling the juice healing my body as it cleans the toxicity from my stored fat.  That's leaving too, and I'm trying to believe that it's in its own time, but  I'm really wanting to push harder here.

And, a coworker saw paintbrushes I'd left on the breakroom table and now I'm doing a painting for her, of her beloved little puppy of 16 years.  I still have several outstanding paintings to finish, but I am doing a little as I go.  There just aren't enough hours in the day.  But there are more now that marching band season is over.  I did have a minute one day to photoshop this painting I finished years ago and was never wild about, I think it's an improvement.

Oh, and I almost forgot about my mural!  One of the things I love about blogging, is that I can see that I'm doing more than I might have allowed myself to believe!  My friend, Beth Hughes, moved her yoga teaching business into her very own space, and she's such a mover/shaker, she brought other like-minded healing arts professionals into the space with her, with lots of room for growth.  I met Beth when she walked into the chiropractic/massage offices where I worked several years ago.  I felt an instant kinship with her.  When I left the business, she moved in.  She loved the yoga lotus I'd painted on the wall there, and wanted one on her own wall.  I was all too happy to oblige.

I entertain the notion that one day, my Whole-Hearted Art will share in the same beautiful space in the old Broad Street building in my hometown, Rome, Georgia.  Beth and I share political views, worked closely on the Ron Paul campaign, and love YOGA! If you are in Rome, please check out her website (http://www.healingartscenterrome.com/thestudios.htm), or fb, for classes.  She's amazing. 

Art-less days

My days have been full of band exhibitions and football games and many church-related activities.  It's been wonderful!  I love being a mom.  I love, love, love my son.  I'm very aware that in only a few short years he will be off on his own life-time adventure, hopefully serving a mission, going to college, finding work that he loves, and somewhere in there finding the love of his life.  I try not to think of it as the end of my life, and I say that with some seriousness... my life truly began when I became a mom.  I love it that I have someone there, always needing me to take the focus of me and put it on them.

If it wasn't for the fact that my job affords me the time to blog, keep in touch with my many artistic friends, and read their blogs, I might have no art in my life at all... visual art that is... I do find ways to put an artistic spin on a plate periodically! 

Today on facebook, one artistic friend has requested some promotion, so I decided to do just that and write a blog about others, just for you! 

Mary Beth Shaw is an awesome artist who has written a book and created wonderful stencils for us at

http://stencilgirlproducts.com/

The information for ordering her books is right there on the site, too!

And, I found the most wonderful artist on facebook and fell in love... Keri Colestock... search for her and check out her wonderful artwork!  It's not everyday that I find an artist I love this much.  I have looked at EVERY one of her images on facebook.  I hope to be able to get one of her walldancers for my budding art collection.  I hear she likes to trade.  I guess that means I'll have to make something!  Nothing like motivation!

 

Something for You?!

When I was young, I thought Life was all about ups and downs.  My dad would say that I'd get too high then have to suffer the lows.  Now, I'm feeling more and more like it's both, and neither!  Having a happy life is certainly not about flatlining.

My highs came from unrealistic expectations that something or someone was going to "make me happy."  Because, of course, according to all the movies, songs, and people around me, that's the way it all works.  And, of course, as we are learning, and society is following along, oh so slowly, it turns out that W E   A R E   R E S P O N S I B L E   F O R   O U R  O W N   HAPPINESS!

 I remember the first time I encountered the concept.  I was in my later 20's and participated in Lifespring, a self-awareness seminar.  But, when the seminar was over, I quickly fell back under society's spell and went back to waiting on Prince Charming.  Later in life, it became Job Charming, and, even, Child Charming!   Now, at the ripe old age of 57, I realize I'm Charming!  If it's to be, it's up to me.  Happiness is an inside job.  Through the help of others (I did build it, but not alone) like Greg and Donna Baer, and Real Love, and all the coaches and friends I've made through conference calls and personal phone conversations, even small group meetings and seminars, I now know that I am loveable, warts and all.  I also realize that most of us never received enough of the love we desparately needed as children. 

This fact alone, I believe, accounts for most, if not all, the "evil" done in the world.  People who are hurting will do anything to avoid that pain: attacking/anger, clinging, running away from responsibility, acting like victims.  Yes, we were all victimized to some extent, some far more than others, but what we choose to do with that, after plugging in to all that's available at www.reallove.com, is largely up to us.  We can have a support group that is absolutely unparalleled by anything else in the world, if we only reach out and have faith in the process and in those who have been down the road ahead of us.

 I'm direct evidence that it works.  I'm not perfect, and I don't need to be.  I am loveable just the way I am, and learning to make better choices, failing my way to happiness.  If we are loved every step of the way, right or wrong, it takes the sting out of being wrong.  Talking about what I do wrong, my mistakes, to people who are loving, keeps me from wanting to hide and lie, and try to look good to earn the praise and approval of people who are just as empty, if not more, than myself.

I'm enjoying my path more today.  If you aren't enjoying yours enough today, please let me know, so I can offer you what I've found. 

Sweet Repeats: New Class...read on how to receive a gift worth 95.00!

I'm really needing to take a class in painting faces... this highly-recommended one just crossed my path, and I love her work, so.... here goes....

Sweet Repeats: New Class...read on how to receive a gift worth 95.00!

It's all in the attitude

I haven't posted in a while.  Things have been C.R.A.Z.Y.  How about in your life?  Have you ever noticed that "when it rains, it pours?"  I guess that is why there's a cliche for it, eh?  I am laughing, but a few weeks ago... not so much!

"The Apartment"  went to hell in a handbag. (Is that a southern colloquialism or is it universal?)  I was trying to be practical, at first glance, it wasn't my first choice of living quarters, but I thought I could make it work, with cleaning and some paint, etc.  First, it was the bees and wasps, not just a few, but an infestation.  Cute little honey bees, hm?  Nope. Don't get me wrong.  I love bees. I love honey.  But not in my WALLS.  The landlord tore bricks out of the exterior to get them smoked out and they simply moved to the other wide of the building (still my apartment).  Landlord did not replace bricks, and with rain and southern humidity, I soon had... MUSHROOMS growing through my bathroom ceiling!!  It was (and still is) surreal.  After a lengthy bit of time, Landlord came and tore out ceiling, spraying something to kill mold (ha!) and said he repaired plumbing leaks overhead.  Nope.  Guy upstairs flushes or takes shower... well, you get the picture.  Actually, I wish I had taken some pictures... well, maybe not.  Kitchen sink drains into floor, couldn't wash dishes for over a week... yikes.  Then lady upstair's dryer starts venting into my dryer.  I came home late at night from second job and my apartment is stifling hot and I can't  breathe for the dryer sheets.  Welcome to my life in hell for 3 months.  Finally, said to heck with it and rented storage space, moving truck, and got out.  Whew.  Still recovering and here it is a month later. 

I hope I never have to go through anything like that again.  I'd love to hear your horror stories.  Personally, I feel like mine is the cake topper, but I could be wrong.  Now, why the title "It's all in the attitude" for this post?  I was actually quite proud of mine.  After an initial thorough meltdown, I was grateful for the 4:00 a.m. inspiration to move in with my mom and put my things in storage (again).  Initially, I was hopeful of being a blessing to her, with grass mowing, and possibly helping her have that yard sale she's always talking about.  I thought, with these crazy economic times, and the upcoming elections looming (I tend to get negative about our future), it'd be good for all our little family to be under one roof.  I've learned a lot about how to get along and what's important this past year.  I thought I could do it. And, I have done much better this time around.  (Am I the only 57 year-old woman who has moved back in with her mom countless times?)  I'd love to hear your stories about this, too!  I alternate between moving to the west coast (think Oregon and California) and back to my home town every 1-7 years! 

The big difference this time has been that I know I am responsible for my happiness.  I am no longer blaming her, at least not for very long, when things go wrong.  I'm realizing I am the Big Bad Bear, not her.  She's just this little old lady who gets pretty crusty, controlling and complaining (most of the time, lol).  And I can see me following in her footsteps, if I'm not pretty darn careful.  It does take a huge effort, at least for me, to change.  And, I'm grateful, that Dr. Greg Baer (www.reallove.com) has said, that some people never recover from childhood abuse, in an entire lifetime.  Years ago, I would beat myself up because I wasn't healed yet.  Nowadays I am amazed when I catch myself not responding in a way I would have even a year ago.  I am changing. Maybe not as fast or as much as I'd like sometimes, but I am changing.  If I keep it up, just think of how far I might get in this little lifetime that I have left to me.  See, it really is all in the attitude.

This link will help you with yours, I hope.  http://www.marcandangel.com/2012/07/18/5-character-traits-that-make-you-happy/

Progress Along the Path

Home is shaping up a bit.  I noticed that even though the unpacking is still in progress...AND the organizing, too, the act of hanging art on the walls... just the right piece in a certain place... is helping me to feel more at home.  It is soothing to look at my creations.  I have put my heart and soul into them.  They are a little like my children!  Any artist understands this. 

The Path - The Yellow Brick Road?  Found the image on this website http://littlesebagomaine.blogspot.com/ and found a new friend!

 

 

 

 

 I have re-learned that during very difficult emotional times, my toolkit is essential, my trail of breadcrumbs to help me find my way:  deep breathing, staying quiet, allowing feelings to come without adding drama, fresh air/exercise and healthy foods and last, but absolutely not least, is the desire and commitment to finding JOY and much of that comes with the choice to be grateful.  I am so blessed to live now, fully as I choose, daily, fresh air, sunshine, spring flowers, birds singing, health and most of my freedoms still in tact.  Too much to be grateful for to be grumbling and worried.  Where there's will, there's way provided.  We'll just keep on keeping on here... hope you are, too.  Please feel free to leave your trail of breadcrumbs in the comment section below!

Trauma Drama

Whew.  Well, the technical part of packing up and the actual move are over.  I know you can relate.  Now the unpacking.  I usually love this part, rediscovering my "things" again.  Not so much this time.  I left my 113-year old farmhouse in the country, with the winding road that looks pastoral-masterpiece-inspired, along with my kitties.  Eternal gratitude to my kind neighbor who is keeping the kittens and finding homes for the rest.  She even calls and gives me updates.  I really hated unpacking boxes that had kitty things inside.  I thought when I found this little apartment in town that it'd be great for kitties... fenced in backyard, almost in the woods although in the city... but after moving in discovered D-O-G-S lived in every apartment.  After trying to get 3 of my babies to acclimate, they all disappeared into the woods, one never to return, I took the other two back out to the country.  Sigh.

Everything is always such a mixed blessing.  My meager income was stretched too thin, commuting, feeding 9 cats.  I'm saving on gas, time, rent, utilities, and now, cat food.  I went for a little visit today and they wouldn't even come near me, but one, my little C.  Good for them.  They deserve a mom who won't leave (them for) town.

I cried for days, while I cleaned up the "old" place.  I'm better now that I don't have to go back there anymore.  They say six months after any major event, it's back to life-as-usual. I hope it doesn't take 6 months, but it may take longer.  I loved my house.  There were things about it I didn't, but overall, it was beautiful: huge... 2-3 acres surrounded by more woods and quiet neighbors.  The peace, quiet, incredible-dark-starlit-skies and sweet country air are sorely missed.  I really lost it the last time I stood on my front porch and remembered all the mornings I waited for the bus with my son, watched him take off running for it, and tried to prepare myself for the day when he'll fly free.  But through the tears, as I took boxes to the dumpster, I could spot a few dim stars overhead, and took consolation.  I've begun to notice things I like about the new place in spite of myself.  The cure for melancholy regret is always gratitude.  I was in a rut, nothing like moving to jolt you out of your routine and allow for different choices.

Once order is restored I'll take out my art supplies and create something, maybe even more often, at least that is my goal.  I even thought (gasp) at one point, I should just forget about art.  It sure would cut down on unpacking and the organization needed to make it work in a tiny apartment.  And, that urge, no matter what else I'm doing, to think, "What could I be making right now, if I wasn't doing this?"  The truth is that often when I have the time, I'm not in the "mood."

I sense that once settled in I may actually make more art and better art, since I'll have less house to keep up with, and be more "efficient."  That's the word a friend used when she saw the place.  Not much storage though, which will require that I eliminate anything I don't really need and use.  And, that's a good thing, at this age, less for others to dispose of.  And, I'm doing it willingly, less stress for others, again.  57 isn't that old, but I deal with seniors on the phone at work all day, and my mom and her siblings are 80ish.  So, I can't help but think that we (others my age) are all going through the same kinds of things.  Hard to watch our parents age, harder still to see ourselves following in their footsteps.  Aging is not pretty no matter how you approach it. 

I struggle with giving in (or up) or trying to find a place inside myself to begin, again... to muster up some energy for another goal, besides just raising my son right, although that would certainly be enough, if that's all I end up doing.  It's all I feel I can do right now.  While I toy with the idea of running for public office, ha ha ha ha! I'll be glad when elections are over and I can let it go.  Right now, it's urgent, I feel (again) somehow like I'm responsible for saving the free world, or what's left of the freedoms we once had.  If you are reading this, please, please, please, research the candidates.  No need to debate it, just really examine the freedoms that we are losing by the minute.  Please.  The pain of moving, getting older are bad enough without the thought of how painful it would be to have no freedoms left at all.

Healing with Art... and Love.

If tomorrow never came, would you be proud of the last thing you said to each person you love?

If "someday" was only "now", would you do everything you've always put off?

If you knew you had a choice about what kind of life you could be living, would you choose different?

If you knew failure is impossible, what would you do?

If it were true that everyone you meet is you in another body, how would you treat them?

If love was the true currency of the Universe and the more you gave away the more you received, how would you spend it?

If fear were the biggest illusion and the greatest lie of all time, how would you choose to live your life?

If the Universe always supported a life lived towards achieving dreams, how big would you dream?

—
Jackson Kiddard

My friend, Amanda, had this qouted on her website.  I highly recommend it:  "Kind Over Matter: Touching the World with kindness, inspiration, gentleness and love."  Sign up and just her newsletter in your emailbox will lift your day.  She knows all about healing.  She's all about nurturing and creating a space for love.

http://www.kindovermatter.com/2012/02/if-you-knew-failure-is-impossible-what.html?utm_source=Kind+Over+Matter%27s+RSS+E-mail+List&utm_campaign=61b34a7d40-RSS_EMAIL_CAMPAIGN&utm_medium=email

I have been remiss.  I haven't nurtured my own dream of "Whole-Hearted Art."  I haven't provided you with as many links to all the wonderful sites and artists who inspire me and keep me going every day.   That's changing today!  I'm going to let you know all the wonderful sites I visit daily!  

I'd also like to write about a very touchy subject today:  criticism.  We are all so sensitive.  Where does criticism fit into art, healing and life!?  I believe there has to be a platform for criticism if we are to grow.  We need to be able to see our own mistakes, and, face it, that isn't something most of us are very good at!  I'm much better at seeing the mistakes of others.  And, when is a "mistake" a mistake... we called them "happy accidents" in college... when a color got spilled or a page torn, we learned to make lemonade from lemons, please forgive the mixed metaphor (it's ok, I'm a mixed media artist, lol!).  Mistakes are times when maybe a different composition choice would have strengthened a work of art.  My college professor was brutal, never minced his words (nor his metaphors;-o), and I always came away having learned something.  

But, when it comes to healing through art... maybe the healing goal is more important.  Maybe one needs to feel safer for longer before criticism is applied.  I don't think anyone ever knows if NOW is the right time for criticism.  In Real Love terms, honesty is required if someone feels that the hearer is capable of hearing it and the speaker is capable of saying it lovingly.  And hindsight is 20/20.  Sometimes we don't know until the words leave our mouths, or much later, after the response has dissipated, if "it" was the right thing to say or not.  I like a quote I read earlier (and now I can't find it).  Something to the effect that we might be happier if we consider everyone we meet as ourselves.  I'm always meeting myself.  Another variation of the Golden Rule.  

So, how does one heal through art?  Much damage is done to us as children when we aren't nurtured.  Most of us remember at least one pain(t)ful moment when someone didn't look at something we had created and scoop us up in loving arms, heaping praises on our creation and on us.  It is healing to create, knowing there will be no criticism... pouring one's mind, soul, heart and spirit onto the canvas with the paint... and then dancing circles around the canvas giggling at the freedom and de-light!  These delights will allow us to replace the old experiences with new ones, with evidence we are loved and utterly, and delightfully loveable!  

I've been blessed lately to hear words that I've always longed to hear:  "You are precious."  "You are of infinite and incredible worth."  There is a growing community of Real Love people (www.reallove.com) who are all learning to be loving, and loving each other.  I listen in and participate on conference calls daily and nightly where I get to hear calm, nurturing, loving voices, accepting each other, giving each other what we are all starving for:  Real Love.  Hope you will join us.  Go to http://www.reallove.com/conferencecalls.asp for the schedule of calls, it's free.  It'll make a huge difference in your life.  Promise.

Some other sites visited and loved today:  

http://catherineparkinson.blogspot.com/
http://onemotheratatime.blogspot.com/
http://diondior.blogspot.com/
www.jessicaswift.com
http://www.etsy.com/shop/artsyville

Art: A giving thing!

An online artist friend of mine, Liz Rosky, is starting a charity to benefit the children of the Honduras where she lives.  She needs donations of art supplies and funds to buy them, in order to continue to provide lessons for these children.  Please visit her website and make a contribution to a very worth cause. http://colourachildsworld.weebly.com/index.html She will so appreciate it.

 Liz has inspired me to take another step forward with Whole-Hearted Art.  Plus, it's tax return time.  I always feel like I need business cards, although I know that is just a formality.  I have my eye on some space on our main street, although it's pricey, and I'll probably need to find something elsewhere.  I imagine people just dropping in to create art at all times of the day.  I want to make it a non-profit and write a grant.  I need help doing these things, as I have no experience.  I want to make art, and the healing it can help provide, available to everyone, regardless of their ability to pay.  It seems to me that often the ones who need it the most are not in a position to pay for supplies, much less my time. 

So, I have no idea what any of this needs to look like... I'm going to spend my heart-time imagining it all coming together perfectly, Divine Order in all things.