Archives for category: Art

Laughing at the Monsters

January 26, 2017 //

I love my friends. In these frightening trying times, watching a great nation descend into fascism is hard enough without people being gloomy 100% of all of the minutes of every day. My friends have adopted the weapons of wit, intellect, and a sense of the ridiculous, to cope with it all. It’s brilliant. I find myself laughing every day – and some days more often than my brow is furrowed with the weight of my concern. I’m no less concerned on the days I am laughing – but I sure do feel “safer”, empowered, and more able to cope with the fear of what may be to come.

Don’t forget to laugh. 🙂 Scary sure, but if there is an element of the ridiculous or unbelievable, there’s probably also a great joke or moment of amusement easily within reach, too. 😉 Monsters hate laughter. I plan to keep humorous, insightful programming at the top of my viewing list. There’s a reason shows like The Daily Show, The Colbert Report, and Last Week Tonight do so well; we need to laugh at our fears. South Park provides a surprisingly astute take on the affairs of the world, too. Our monsters need to be taken to task in the most amusing ways possible.

Then, too, there’s music. Art. “The Arts” are the soul of the resistance – any resistance. No doubt American artists in all fields will be doing some of the most amazing work of their careers over the next 4 years. Enjoy it! Support it! Patreon is a great way for everyday people to also patronize the arts – don’t leave America’s soul to the terrifically wealthy, it also belongs to you.

There is more than what is going on in life, and the world, than our momentary individual fears, doubts, and struggles. We are each having our own experience. We are also all in this together. Again and again, I find that taking the very best care of the woman in the mirror requires that I also do my very best to be the person I most want to be out in the world. Small mirror, big picture. Staying whole and well and emotionally healthy is pretty important for me, myself. I hope not to lose sight of how important it also is for how well I am able to support my family, invest in my community, and support the overall “social wellness” of my country. (If there are “social ills”, there must therefore also be an idea of “social wellness”… right?) I’m just saying – take care of you, too. If the grand freak-out on Facebook, and the depressing heinous fascist bullshit coming from Washington D.C. is wearing you down, take time for you. Chill with a cup of tea. Put the news over there to the side for another time. Breathe. Invest in your own self-care and quality of life. Take care of you. “Put your own oxygen mask on first” is a good basic idea; when we care well for ourselves, we have are more likely to have the resources to also care for others. I’m just saying… pace yourself, it’s going to be a long 4 years. 😉

This morning sipping coffee, listening to music, reading the hilariously humorous posts and comments by my very witty friends, and feeling for the moment rather… hopeful. It’s a nice morning. It’s enough. Today is a good day to laugh; our laughter can change the world.

Tags are you going my way?, be here now, be the change, begin again, being and becoming, choose wisely, emotional self sufficiency, good self-care, meditation, mindfulness matters, perspective, practicing the practices, ptsd, taking care of me, TBI, The Art of Being, The Big 5, there are verbs involved, walking my own path, what matters most?

Categories Anxiety, Art, art and the artist, Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Logic & Reason, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, The Art of Being, The Big 5, War and News of War, winter, women, Words

How Far Does This Road Go?

October 19, 2016 //

It’s an odd sort of morning following a somewhat peculiar evening. It was a pleasant evening, and it is a pleasant morning. It would be easy to lose sight of how pleasant it is to focus on the oddity. The pleasantness, for me, is more important.

Evenings are quite short these days, a common experience for people who work and commute some distance. I arrived home about an hour earlier than usual, yesterday, which is enough time to make a difference. I enjoyed a bite of dinner, and meditation, and was headed to the shower when my traveling partner arrived. A whirlwind of greetings, moments, departures, and arrivals later, and the apartment was full of people, laughing, talking – it’s fairly easy to find a party breaking out at my place when both my traveling partner and I are at home; we two enjoy both company and solitude, and if we’re already together (and thus not alone) it’s a handy time to get other friends together, too. Parties happen. 🙂

I sip my coffee and for some moments think about far away friends, and long for their company, too. Magical thinking could intervene here, and leave me feeling lonely, or annoyed, or even inappropriately “abandoned”, or sad over what is not. It’s a choice, and I choose not to head down that spiral. I cherish my far away friends over my coffee, smiling with grateful delight at technology like Facebook, that so easily keeps us all in touch over the years. Any perceived distance melts away like morning fog as the sun rises, when we get together again. In the meantime, there are pictures of life, of new babies, of dance recitals, of fun and adventure, of love – all shared with affection, preserving a long-distance connection.

“Long Distance Connection” 18″ x 24″ acrylic on canvas w/glow, 2010

Last night I crashed pretty early, and the party moved next door out of respect for my working hours and early mornings. I actually slept well and deeply. I woke with the alarm, feeling comfortable in my body, content with the woman in the mirror, and ready to start a new day. No noteworthy pain – so I make a point of noticing the lack, and making that, itself, noteworthy by being aware of how good I feel right now, savoring it, lingering over it, enjoying it without any dismissive internal commentary. I take time to be okay with being okay. Being miserable can become a very bad habit; we become what we practice.

I sit quietly, sipping my coffee, living my life gently, feeling contented. It’s a lovely start to a work day. I think about the years and years I didn’t start my days this way, and then the years that I tried… and tried… and tried… and often found some delicate fragile moment of contentment or delight would skid unexpectedly sideways off life’s highway, leaving me stranded in tears by the side of the road, unaware that I only needed to dust my self off and walk on. There are so many choices, and so much of my experience is in my own hands. It can be daunting. Then, too, there’s all that “positivity” stuff out there, and “faking it until you make it” encouragement; those things didn’t work for me at all. Authenticity is demanding, and some of the moments of a life well-lived are… challenging? Unpleasant. Some of life’s moments are frankly awful. Still… I couldn’t force positivity down my own throat, and no amount of repeating scripted affirmations or pasting fake smiles on my face got me anywhere. I gave up, and in giving up felt even worse about myself and my circumstances.

I tend to be a very positive person these days – but I didn’t start here, and getting here wasn’t the goal. I started with taking better care of myself (physically and emotionally), and took up practices that supported my wellness, and nudged me gently towards my long-term goals by improving my self-care, my awareness, and my willful actions, over time. I suppose someone could respond that they feel like a screaming spoiled toddler, and if they are (mis)behaving it is merely an expression of their authentic self… I guess that’s where having a conscious awareness of my values is helpful for me; I don’t think to justify bad behavior on the basis of “authenticity” – because that isn’t the woman I most want to be. I don’t find myself having to “fake it” – I do find that choices are necessary, and there are verbs involved. I begin again, regularly. When I fuck up and hurt someone, I apologize sincerely and without reservations or excuses.

It’s been a long while since I had some terrible meltdown. I take a moment to appreciate that – because, honestly, realistically, and being so very human? This too shall pass. 🙂 It’s likely that sometime in my future I will be frustrated, or angry, or childishly disappointed, and I will have to deal with it appropriately. I may hurt someone’s feelings and have to apologize. I’ll be wrong about some things. I’ll fail at some others in spite of trying. I may kick myself while I’m down, or revert to a bad habit unexpectedly. Still… we become what we practice. I’ll begin again. Over time, in small sometimes hardly noticeable increments, change will occur.

We do become what we practice. I stopped practicing having relentless temper tantrums and yielding to primitive frustrated rage – but not by “quitting”; I began practicing something different. That’s my own version of “positivity”. More a doing than an undoing. For me, it started with the most basic mindfulness practices, a few minutes each day for myself that I could really count on, and the will to begin again day after day, as if my life depended on it. (From my perspective, it very much did.) My reading list is built on the resources that got me here, now. I can share titles of books forever, and perhaps you even read them – but without the verbs, the practicing of practices, and the will to begin again, they’re only books filled with mere words. Just saying.

My coffee has gone cold. It’s almost time to head to the office. I’m still smiling. Life feels different than it did three years ago, in a number of very good ways. We become what we practice. My results vary – but I can begin again, often. Today is a good day to practice. Who will you choose to become? 🙂

Tags art and the artist, be the change, begin again, choose wisely, connections, contentment is the vaccine for OPD, emotional self sufficiency, interactions, meditation, mindful living, mindful loving, mindfulness, mindfulness for beginners, mindfulness matters, most effective treatment known for OPD, p.s. I love you, perspective, practicing the practices, ptsd, relationships, sufficiency, taking care of me, TBI, The Art of Being, there are verbs involved, we're all in this together, what matters most?

Categories Art, art and the artist, Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, The Art of Being

Choosing Peace

July 15, 2016 //

I woke with a terrible headache. I woke much earlier than I needed to be awake. I used the opportunity to open the windows and patio door to the pre-dawn breezes and fresh air, and cooling the apartment before the heat of the day. Doing so had no effect on the headache. I didn’t really expect it would. The headache made me ill with vertigo. I made it to the bathroom in time for nausea to avoid becoming a mess that requires cleaning up. A migraine? No, I think it over and realize it’s just one of the occasional outcomes of taking Rx pain medication (for me), pretty commonly; I was in enough pain last night to take pain medication.

I made coffee, did my morning yoga and physical therapy stuff. The headache continues. I take some Tylenol for the headache. I have a mammogram today. I barely care; this headache is kicking my ass – and winning. Half-way through my coffee, the nausea wins, too. 😦 Sometimes being a human primate is fairly disgusting.

I write a bunch, delete all of it, deciding I don’t prefer to write about war, violence, or hate today. My heart aches for the victims of violence, the living and the dead. What action am I taking? I am living my life peacefully, refusing to take up arms, and treating my fellow human beings as human beings; we’re all in this together, each of us quite human. Each having our own experience. Each likely thinking we’re the good guy, regardless what the other guy thinks of our actions.

Love matters most.

My evening with my traveling partner was delightfully well-spent. Even this cursed headache doesn’t dim my smile when I think about our evening together. It wasn’t fancy, but love isn’t about fancy things, or planned events, or expensive trinkets. Love depends on a quality connection, not a fat bank account. 🙂

Be love. It’s a choice. Love is a verb.

This headache continues to mess with my enjoyment of the morning, although it has begun to fade after a third round of nausea becomes a third opportunity to become really skilled at vomiting. (So gross.) Wow. Headaches, puking, violence, love… this blog post has it all! I chuckle to myself, aware that this morning’s writing hardly amounts to ‘content’ at all. I feel very human, in the most limiting sense. There’s no disappointment in that awareness, in spite of the headache, the violence in the world, or a few moments of nausea on a Friday morning; being human is so much more than those details. I love. I am loved. Each morning I face a new opportunity to choose well for myself, and to be present, to love – and to love more. Good stuff.

“Emotion and Reason” 18″ x 24″ acrylic w/ceramic and glow details

There’s so much fear and violence in the world. Fear. Violence. Fear and violence. Fear of violence. Bleak. It’s both bleak and tragic, on top of being so entirely unnecessary. Today I’ll do my small part to change the world by engaging strangers in genial conversation: brown strangers, dark strangers, fair strangers, ginger strangers, foreign strangers, male strangers, child strangers, woman strangers, strangers of no obvious gender or ethnicity, strangers of poetic beauty, strangers who appear disengaged and uninvolved with the world around them, strangers who want conversation – we are all human beings, and in that sense, we are not strangers to each other at all. There’s no reason to be afraid.

Today is a good day to choose peace.

Tags be love, be present, choose peace, compassion, consideration, don't bomb me bro!, don't hate, don't shoot be bro!, emotion and reason, fear carries a gun, Fearless, headaches suck, mindfulness matters, openness, perspective, put down the gun, Reciprocity, respect, The Big 5, vote with care the world is depending on you, we are humanity, You Always Have My Heart

Categories Art, art and the artist, Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Logic & Reason, Love, Mindfulness, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, The Art of Being, The Big 5, War and News of War, Words

Digging Deeper

July 4, 2016 //

I woke to a gray morning, following a late night. I spent the evening hours meditating, studying, writing and reflecting. Today is the 21st anniversary of the end of a nightmare. Bits of chaos and shards of damage still linger, even 21 years later; my back will remind me every day of the high price of freedom. My scars are my receipt. 21 years ago I walked on, and I began again, ending my first marriage with some finality, and a great deal of relief. I survived it, and that’s enough, now.

Self-portrait in progress – I don’t have words for some experiences.

I spent quite a bit of time reflecting on my very human mortality, too. Not in an angst-y “not me! why me?!” way – Death comes for us all, at some point. It’s more that… I’m only just starting to really live… it weighs me down just a bit; the not-quite-sad tears that perch on my eye lashes when I think about it weigh much more than they seem they should. I’m okay – I’ve known since I was a small child that Death is a thing. I’m not there, yet. I’m not having to face Death in person in any known immediate way. Last night found me gentle with myself, and accepting that this is something that I’m needing to think over a bit, letting it come, letting it go – accepting it. Hell, it wasn’t even the “most important” thing on my mind last night. 🙂 It is probably a decently adult idea to ensure all my end of life stuff is in good order, regardless… wills don’t write themselves, and mine is out-of-date.

I enjoyed the evening less quietly than I often do, pausing everything else at intervals to learn something more with my bass. My fingers are sore, and the muscles in my forearms. I took the necessary step of checking in with the guys next door and finding the sweet spot – amp loud enough to be ideally audible for me, but not filling their apartment next door with the sounds of me practicing – because there’s probably going to be a lot of that going on, for a long time. 🙂

It was an evening of meditation, too.

I write several paragraphs, and delete them after re-reading them and realizing that I’m ‘just chattering away to myself’ in a rather… well… I’ll be honest, it sounded too much (to me) like an eager toddler tugging at my sleeve to share something, when I’m “trying to have an adult conversation here, honey.” I laugh at the visual image, which is of my mother on the phone rolling her eyes skyward as I earnestly try to shove some beetle or weed at her, eager for her attention. I sometimes feel I live on a plane tilted at an angle from everyone else in which very different things are fascinating and noteworthy. lol This has not changed about my experience of myself over the years, it is part of who I am. 🙂 I’m fortunate to have so many friends and loved ones who enjoy me as I am, and quite a few also living on ’tilted planes’. I take a moment to enjoy the warmth of the happy smile on my face as I linger on the awareness of the acceptance and affection I am so fortunate to receive. It feels very nice to consider acceptance. Just that – some small moment when another human being communicated that I am okay with them, no problem. However hated or diminished I’ve felt in some moment in life, if I’ve been able to lift my head from that pain to raise my eyes, the truth of it has been that I have also been well-loved, valued, respected, and found worthy by those dear to me! It took a long time to recognize that a lot of the hate I felt surrounding me sourced from within. I smile, and offer my gentle heart a moment of regret and apology; it never needed to be that way, it was a painful choice.

There is valuable perspective in taking time to look at things quite differently. “Chrysanthemums” 36″ x 48″, acrylic on canvas, 2004, shot in blue light.

I sip my coffee and smile. The gray morning is quiet, although a Monday; it’s a holiday. The sounds of traffic are muted, hushed, and minimal. The windows are thrown open to morning breezes. My coffee tastes good. My posture feels more upright than has been the case, sitting at my desk, in many years – I smile, recognizing early changes resulting from my renewed commitment to fitness. It’s a lovely morning. I feel whole and well and delightfully human – which is a pleasant experience. I breathe it in. As I exhale, I imagine letting go of past baggage, and inhale again, deeply, imagining welcoming Love home. My smile deepens. Contentment has proven to be such a wise choice for me, versus chasing the glamour of Happiness and her fickle ways. Happy comes and goes. I’m learning to accept that too. Contentment can be built, sustained, improved, deepened, practiced… No, it’s not ‘easy’. There is practice involved, self-awareness helps, acceptance is a nice value-add, and a willingness to embrace sufficiency doesn’t hurt, either. It’s not always clear which practices are ideal for me – I’ve taken a trial and error approach, and then also had to learn that practice is about incremental change over time, and follow through with learning to observe the small changes, not just the big change that is achieving a goal.

I didn’t find freedom with a gun in my hand.

I finish my coffee. The cat beyond the window finishes her patrol along the edge of the meadow. The morning remains quiet, so quiet. Coffee #2… or a walk in the park? It’s only a choice, either option is lovely, and I’m not attached to the outcome. Today is a good day to celebrate independence – how will you free yourself? 🙂

Tags bassist, be love, being and becoming, being the change, breathe, celebrate your independence, Downliners Sekt, make one change, meditation, practicing the practices, take one step, the map is not the world, the past is only a memory, trial and error, who am I?

Categories Art, art and the artist, Brain Injury, Free Will, Metaphors, Mindfulness, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Rape, Relationships, Summer, The Art of Being, Words

It’s Called ‘Programming’ for a Reason

May 31, 2016 //

I woke from a nightmare this morning, one that doesn’t actually belong to me. I put the material in my brain myself. I knew going into it that there was some risk, too. I still chose to binge watch a terrifically (in the literal sense) dramatic and emotionally provocative television show, hanging out with my traveling partner. I had a great time, it was a fun weekend experience to share. I still woke from a nightmare this morning. I’ll get past the insidious thing in due course, but it has me wondering…if this sort of thing affects me profoundly, how many people just wandering around are similarly powerfully affected by things that ‘don’t actually belong to them’, and suffering greatly over it?

Well, sure, you say that, but…

In this instance, the nightmare was simply that in all the world each and every single person in all languages spoken could be counted upon to be utterly duplicitous, deceitful, not only looking out for their own interests exclusively – but not necessary with good awareness of what served them best, nor what the circumstances truly are. Liars. Cutthroats. Thieves. Worse. And me – living as authentically as the world will allow, without reservation, without hesitation… without defense. Oh. Shit. That didn’t feel safe or likely to have a good outcome at all. I woke trembling and nauseous, and fearful of my safety. It was weird to feel it so intensely, and to be also clearly aware it wasn’t really anything to do with me ‘in real life’.

I got up for the morning, and allowed the nightmare content to linger in my thoughts… sometimes that ‘compare/contrast’ inner dialogue makes a nightmare seem more ludicrous, surreal, less ‘real’ – undermining the seemingly ‘valid points’. In this case, this morning, that wasn’t the experience at all. It was a huge mistake, and the aftermath of the nightmare was far worse than the dream was itself. I’m easily able to recall being lied to, or misled, even by people very dear to me. (No doubt some of them have had similar moments with me.) Sometimes with good intentions – like ‘white lies’ sometimes used with the intent of kindness, for example – still lies. Other times for less innocent purposes – like omitting details to convey a different impression, still easily definable as willful deceptions. There are, too, grander machinations – real gaslighting – even in the context of loving or familial relationships; I’ve endured some myself, watched others from the sideline. For a moment, humanity seems pretty fantastically vile, as my awareness of the hurts, and the lies, and the manipulation starts piling up…the television images of violence conflate with my own experiences, and I feel… something complicated…something primitive… something more like fear as it builds, and anger as it diminishes. I’m okay right now. The big take away? Be more careful with binge watching television; no content is worth a visit to the nightmare city. 🙂

“The Nightmare City” 8″ x 10″ acrylic on canvas w/glow

The morning started early. My partner and I are both up with the dawn. He asks me how I slept. I tell him. He chides me for the quantity of words so early in the morning. I still had my nightmare in my thoughts. We’ve both just awakened. I take my coffee and my bleak outlook in the studio, and give us both a shot at a pleasant morning, once we’re actually awake.

It was a lovely weekend to share. The time together well-spent relaxing and enjoying each other’s company. No stress. No drama. Just people who love each other hanging out together, and sharing life’s journey without having to take up arms. Quite a contrast from television. 🙂

So…now it’s a whole new week. A new adventure. Where will it take me? Will I meet an exciting stranger? Will I learn discover the truth? Will I find my fortune? Will adventure catch me unawares? Life isn’t usually so dramatic, frankly – unless I invest imagination, assumptions, expectations, and a hearty helping of attachment in it, and then pursue chaos with ferocity, and reactivity. I think I’ll pass. Television shows are not usually written about contentment and living beautifully – low ratings – but this says nothing about whether these are worthy qualities in life, they are perhaps the most worthy characteristics on which to build my life. I’m only saying that because I find it pleasant to be content, and to live beautifully…and I’d find it less pleasant by far to be constantly worried about betrayal, violence, and lies. 🙂

Today is a good day to enjoy life’s most mundane pleasures: a good coffee, a lovely sunrise, a smile from a friend, a hug, a kiss, laughter, loving with all my heart regardless whether it is reciprocated – because love feels good. Today is good day to live – well, and deliberately, and eyes open. Some people may indeed be playing a diminished ‘Game of Thrones’ in their every day lives…but it doesn’t have to be me. 🙂

Tags a visit to the nightmare city, authentically me, binge watching television, fiction is still fiction, Game of Thrones, it's okay not to, love and lovers, taking care of me, the betrayal garden, truth and contentment, what is real?

Categories Anxiety, Art, art and the artist, Brain Injury, Fiction, Free Will, Healthy Living, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, The Art of Being, War and News of War, Words

Laughing at the Monsters

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How Far Does This Road Go?

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Choosing Peace

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Digging Deeper

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It’s Called ‘Programming’ for a Reason

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