Nostalgic appreciation

In cleaning out my garage, I found this canvas. I was so happy to see it. It is my first painting made, about 22 years ago. Sorry for the unprofessional picture, I do not have professional photographs of my work. I have to use my easel and bright light and it is not lying totally flat, thus the wonky perspective. 

I remember this was my first assignment in a painting class at Broward Community College. It was there that I met one of my favotite teachers, Lamonte Anderson. He was a kind and talented teacher, loved to tell stories, especially of his travels painting around the world. His home, which he opened once a year for student parties, was colorful and full of art. He had a large and wonderful collection of wind chimes from around the world on his patio. Over the next few years, he was instrumental to my artistic growth by building up my confidence and delivering thoughtful critiques. He entered me in juried exhibitions and wow, I was accepted in a few and even won first place in one. We bonded in a special mentor friendship. He gifted me his decades old painting glass that he (and then I) used as a palette. I cherished it until it broke. 

I took his painting 101 class and on the very first day, after a basic introduction to the technical use of acrylics, he said "well you all have had drawing 1 and 2. I believe the best way to learn is to do. So, your first assignment is a self portrait. Get to it. " Done. Everyone was freaking out and carrying on. "I can't draw faces!" "Can't we start with fruit?" But I was excited. Eager.

As it would turn out, I have a penchant for self portraits. So many artists are drawn to them. They are such powerful vehicles for self reflection and expression. So I created this Self Portrait 1 (acrylic 16 X 20). As I have referenced before, around 2009, I went though a profound lost period where I abandoned all painting until a re-blossoming of my creativity last year. 

So finding this first painting I ever did was poignant and nostalgic. After my initial excitement, my inner critic kicked in. I see so many technical drawing and painting errors. I need to silence them to appreciate the positives. For it is a powerful piece to me. I softly smiled at seeing my love of color and expressive brushwork present from the start. I reminisced about my period when Zen Buddhism was important to me: the meditation pose and Quan Yin statue in top right corner. 

But what gave me a gut punch was my clear depiction of my wounded self on canvas. No subtlety about it. I painted a large gash over my heart. And if that was not not clear enough, I painted something like smoke or psychic energy emanating from it. I was stunned. I had forgotten.

Immediately, I was flooded with compassion for my formerly wounded self of that time. I have worked hard in mental health therapy these past decades and I am now a much more whole and authentically joyful self. Yes, I have earlier traumas that I have scars from, but I do not lead with an identity of a wounded soul anymore. So much healing has taken place. In early 2000's, I was so devastated by my father's death. And I was dealing with early traumas and other issues. So when I made a self portrait, of course that wound was clearly given form.

I also ache for my vulnerable self, presenting this piece at my class' critique and being oblivious to how others would react to the gash, lol. Lamonte was a pro, gently referencing it and then using it for a generalized segway into how self portraits are ways artists to express themselves with color and form. They do not have to be literal. But I remember my peers looking puzzled asking if I 'meant' to portray a smoking gash over my heart? It was only then that I became self conscious and then embarrassed. I was so naive to my honesty in art and how it can affect the viewer's reactions and judgements.

Now, fighting my inner critic, I have decided to hang this painting in my home. It is powerful and marks an important time and an artistic beginning for me. I am compassionate and tender towards myself and it reminds me how far I have come. I love it.

Spirit serendipity

As I have been chronicling, I am on a clearing out process in my home. Clothes, clutter, past use dates on foods, medicines, you name it. Big time on that list is going through storage in my garage, much of which involves diving into 13 year old boxes of things from my mothers home after she passed. Things we did not know what do with when we closed her home. It has been an emotional undertaking. Poignant, sad, funny and endearing. Much of the items are mundane things like office and cleaning supplies. I am trying to repurpose as much as I can and want to. I am delighted with now having  jumbo colored paper clips to use at my desk and a nicer bottle opener than my old one. Little things that remind me of her in my office and kitchen. Little treasures. 

This week a miraculous thing happened. A reminder that spirit exists in mysterious forms and interact with us here in mortal bodies. Some call it coincidence, serendipity, others call it a message from beyond. Here is the occurrence.  I have a wood piece of furniture that lost it's wheels and I now need to just remove the remaining ones and let it rest on floor flat. I was discussing this with a friend and he suggested I get furniture pads to put under the corners so that I would be able to slide it around easier when I need to move it and it would not scratch my floor. What an idea! I set out to buy them and put them on my shopping list. Right after this phone call, I went to my garage to pull another bag/box of things to go through. I stood in front of shelves full of boxes and garbage bags closed and full of miscellaneous stuff. I randomly chose a not heavy plastic bag and brought it inside. My process is to sit at my table, listen to a podcast or book and slowly, methodically go through the stuff making piles of trash, donation, keep and sort for other family members or myself. 

I peered into a dirty bag of loose stuff. Reaching into the bag I pulled the first thing my hand touched. It was a gallon size ziploc bag filled with dirty stuff. As I opened it and laid the items out I realized that my mom had kept lots of furniture floor protectors. The ones you put under heavy furniture so they do not make permanent dents in your carpet or scratch your floor. WTF?! The FIRST item I pulled out was an unopened package of floor protectors to stick to bottom of heavy furniture to protect hard floors! Whoa.

This was less than 3-4 minuets after my call and decision to buy them for my own furniture situation. And I swear to you, I realized that my mom's spirit was saying "M'ija, do not buy them , I have them!" She guided my hand to select the exact bag amid all the other boxes and stuff and guided my hand to pull the very item first.  Too much to be be mere coincidence. My mouth dropped open. Ok, mommy. I got it. Thank you. 

I am comforted and happy to realize she is still around in some unfathomable form, occasionally dropping into my life. Gracias mamita. I will not buy new ones, thanks for saving me $ and giving me yours. After death, as in life, she is still helping  me in small thoughtful ways.

Collage series Everglades Rains

Living in South Florida,I am thrilled and sobered by the intense tropical storms we get. Under the governance of climate denier, Ron DeSantis, communities in Florida are more vulnerable to severe weather events. I created three collage works as a set to highlight the drama of our rainstorms. Ideally, they are to be displayed as a set; but they each hold up as a solo collage.  The first of the series represents the pre rain period.

If you like these collages, you can purchase them on my Etsy shop.

                              

Buh bye diets

I have started clearing space in my kitchen. I have been going through my kitchen wares and donating things to Breast Cancer Research Foundation. 

In this process, I came face to face with many unused, dusty weight loss/controlling  cookbooks, scales and other dieting accoutrements. Several large cook books and points counters from Weight Watchers, Jenny Craig, anti-inflammatory diets, raw food processing, etc. I am happy to be at a point in my life that I just smiled at these past vain efforts and tossed many and donated others. In general, I do not keep books these days; everything is online. If I want cooking ideas, Pinterest is my go-to. But I am not into "dieting" anymore. Any "diet" I follow these days are for health related reasons as I have GI issues. Liberating.

Now I do admit that I am overweight, and yes I would like a trimmer body. But I am not going to hate my body and "diet" for an artificial standard that is not even practical or feasible for a 61 year old woman with RA. I like curves. I mainly mourn the loss of my muscle tone. So I aim to eat and move in ways that make me feel better in my body. That is it.

BUT, I do try to avoid excessive exposure to fat phobic media and our cultural obsession with thinness and artificial beauty standards. That is so toxic, especially for women. One thing I am more tuned into and irritated by is people around me who perpetuate body shaming, whether it is towards others or themselves. It can range from overt fat phobic remarks to subtler perpetuations of our societal body shaming. One form this takes is when people who are not fat, comment about their bodies in a shaming way as if they are fat. Or act in dieting ways. I know that people raised in this culture are brainwashed into being critical of their bodies and never feel good enough. And I have compassion for us all in that regard. But I bristle when observing and have to hear non-fat people go on about themselves in a disparaging way as if they were fat. Wrong in so many ways. And annoying for actual fat people, lol. 

In the past I have let my irritation shape my responses and I usually point out that they are not fat. What are they talking about? Or challenge why they eat low fat, low calorie diets when they are not needing to diet. Yes, most respond with it being a health concern. Hmmm. OK. But we all know that that is the escape clause all body shammers use. And even healthy approaches can be taken to rigid extremes in my opinion.

I am now trying to mind my own business and refrain from unsolicited comments. I am not helping them. And I do not think I am making any dent in their body dysmorphia. So I am now just trying to love them as they are and not contribute to any body shaming attitudes. But it is a thin line between accepting them as they are and not wanting to be part of body controlling  energy. I have not figured out where and how to draw that boundary.  Feedback welcome!

 

Solidarity heart connections

Writing that last post reminded me of a memory that I want to share. Back in 2009 ( I think), Isreal was again bombing Palestine in sustained airstrikes. I was a teacher at a charter elementary school whose owner/president was a right wing Christian. To get the job, I had to sign a morality clause that included a rule against public unseemly behavior. During the time of Ft Lauderdale public protests against these Isreal airstrikes on Gaza, teachers were told not to attend these protests and if we did, we could be fired if we were somehow public seen or photographed. They said it was covered in the "morality clause". I felt strongly that I needed to let my protests be seen so I defied the rule and went to the protest. While I was there, I stood next to a man waving the Palestinian flag and I got to talking with him. I told him about my undemocratic school prohibition for attending the rally. He bought over another friend and told me they were Palestinian and they wanted to thank me for risking my job to be there. They we so moved, and I in turn was moved by THEM. I made a painting (my first foray into oil paintng) of this man waving his flag. This is my painting of that man and another of me at that protest. It is meaningful to me. If you like this painting, you can purchase a print fit at my Etsy shop.

The other photo is myself with the man in question behind me in the red shirt. He had given his friend the flag and we were now holding signs at a busy Ft Lauderdale road downtown.

Presents are fun; but acceptance of your the present existence is the real gift.

I've been absent a little bit. I miss writing; but I have had physically and mentally taxing difficulties to deal with. My autoimmune challenges keep progressing. I am still keeping hope alive that Enbrel and hydroxychloroquin will start to at least arrest the progression. It takes 2-3 months to feel effects of the biologic injections and I keep having to stop the injections because of poor health so I have only gotten to 6 weeks. But I resume next week.

My hand, elbow and shoulder joints are bad and are limited in how I can use them and very painful. Constant pain makes me sad and cranky!

Also my low immunity causes me to get infectious things easier. I got the shingles vaccine couple weeks ago and whoa. I got such a bad immunologic reaction, I was scared. 102 fever, vomiting, acute painful swelling (baseball size) of lymph nodes in my armpit that traveled up to jaw and cheeks and terrible pain to name the highlights. Two days are a blur. I am still coming out out of it and dealing with waning symptoms weeks later. So, from now on, I need to get medical clearance for vaccines. But at same time, medical practitioners advise I  get all vaccines because I am at high risk for infectious illnesses and cannot fight them well. Catch 22.

The other taxing issue is the sobering reality of my living situation. I am (at this point, and I hope it improves) needing some assistance with some daily activities. I need to hire some help and am looking at once a week. I'll save my tasks for that time but it is hard because some needs are small and ongoing, like opening jars, bottles, carrying laundry, taking out garbage, reaching for things high up, vacuming, bringing in groceries...  I am now having to think long term about my living arrangements and my possible need for increasing assistance. That is a hard pill to swallow. I am now applying for Medicaid so that I can get help paying for in home assistance and possible other increased help down the line. VERY  much bureaucratic process and hard to get accepted.

But what I am having hardest time with is my tendency of longing for the past. I long for my past healthier body. From vain aspects to accessibility aspects to painfree aspects. I am sad and have episodes of "why me?" I am envious of others my age that seem to have better health and abilities. 

Luckily, I am wise enough to know that I need to reign in those ideas and feelings and ACCEPT the present situation and make the best of it. I need to see the world around me as I am just one speck in it. We all suffer, it is a hallmark of being alive. I am practicing being gracious, asking for help  and being clear eyed. I am cultivating contentedness. Letting go of all other stuff that does not serve me. It is tough but I am embracing it. I might fall but have to get back up and keep on trying.

So, it is Christmas Eve today and I have been enjoying my holiday preparations, activities and plans.

With assistance  for rolling out the dough, I made kitty shaped alfajor cookies, planned for a relaxed sweet gathering at my place tonight, champagne is chilled. Since my hair and nails have been destroyed by the medication I take, I even had fun donning press-on fancy nails! I chose an iridescent moon color and love them. I am enjoying my tree lights and handcrafted wrapped presents under my baby live tree. And I am content. 

So, I am enjoying my holiday and hope you are too. But let me leave you with an appeal. We can hold more than one reality in our hearts at the same time. And however we  work to bring contentment into our lives, we must see and act as world citizens and community. We are all connected. There are so many issues I hold dear and work for, but right now, the literal genocide in Palestine calls for worldwide aid and assistance. Please educate yourself on this ethnic cleansing of an entire people. Write, call officials and call for a permanent cease-fire. engage with the boycott and divestment movements towards Isreal. Being anti-Zionist is not anti-Jewish! All world citizens need to keep the resistance alive and in the news and be an ally in whatever way you can. Nothing is too small. 

My evolving Christmas (holiday) traditions

I have been quiet online lately. The despair of watching a US backed genocide of the Palestinian people by Isreal, far right advances in eroding civil rights that were hard won at great cost, chronic pain, Thanksgiving familial get togethers and a sick cat, to name a few distractions. October through January 1st is my favorite time of year. Actually, I am not one to relish New Years, never have been. But it provides closure to the winter holidays. And, now in December, I long to bring in the nostalgic wonder and gratitude for the beautiful traditions I grew up with for Christmas.

Christmas was a wondrous event in my family when my parents were alive, in large part to my mother. She decorated with a designer's eye and spent time on the tiniest details to make us feel special. The decor, the smells, the displays, the food, all made our home a magical place. In my childhood through mid twenties, we  always spent Christmas Eve with our intimate circle of (mainly) other Peruvian families. As all our biological families were in Peru, our families anointed each other familia; we called the grown ups "tio and tia (uncle and auntie) and their children were our primos and primas (cousins). We went all out on Christmas Eve; the 25th was more a laid back, for-the-kids relaxing day of food and brunch with  the families.

A resplendent tree (my mother adopted an unorthodox vanguard aluminum 1970's modern tree with psychedelic lights, lol) and wrapped presents laid out throughout December so the kids could ooh and ahhh all month, and wonder what it hid. Handmade wreaths, Peruvian desserts and wonderful smells permeated our home. But mainly, it was ingrained in my soul as a time for familia.

Now, at 61, my parents long passed, I long for a continuation of the feel of those Christmas', however, adopted to my current life. I am sad that once my parents died, much of the grand familial traditions seemed to have diminished and as family has moved apart geographically and our life-styles and beliefs have evolved, we are no longed as wedded to the gathering of familia at any costs; many traditions we grew up with have fallen to the wayside. My sisters, like many people, now prioritize their familia as being the tight circle they created with spouses and children. Sure, their childless, single tia is well loved but I am not in the inner circle. No matter, I want to create a sense of familia in my home, carrying on my meaningful traditions, old and new. I want my "sobrinos and sobrinas" (nephews and nieces) and sisters to soak up my love through meaningful gestures that harken to our familial roots. 

Travel is difficult for me with my chronic pain, immuno-suppression and financial constraints. So, I am planning a small Christmas Eve at my place for few friends. All loved ones welcomed! I got a live tropical pine-like tree (Norfolk Island Pine) that will do for a humble Christmas tree. She loves heat and humidity so will do well on my porch throughout the year and I can bring her back in to decorate for future Christmases. I am only displaying ornaments that have sentimental meaning. Yummy Peruvian food and desserts will be served and of course I will be drinking champagne on Christmas Eve. I will open gifts on  the Eve. 

I am taking extra effort to give my loved ones a feeling of specialness with handmade wrapping paper. I bought a large Kraft roll and string and am stamping, drawing and stenciling the paper.

I am picking images and designs that speak to the person. For instance, I am including whimsical llamas to reflect our/my Peruvian roots and other paper features a variety of lovely feathers, which are special to two different people in my life. Dog and cat lovers got their companion animals on theirs, etc. It was laborious (my arthritic hands hurt) but I took my time and enjoyed playing crafts. It is not be as elaborate as my mother's grand efforts. (She made beautiful wreaths special for each person. Even finding a tiny wooden violin for my tio, who was a music professor.) But it is the same in effort, sentiment and love.

I am  happy to celebrate and wish someone greetings for Winter Solstice, Hanukkha or whatever. But I was, of course, raised Catholic. I love God, Jesus, Mary, etc. (I also love elements of pagan and indigenous spirituality). But for me, Christmas is a time for celebrating Jesus's birth, child like wonder and showing appreciation for those we love. I even give my doctors that I see most often, my massage therapist, my lash lady small gifts. I make stockings. I drink cocoa and watch Christmas movies. I am a geek for the holidays.  I like to do it. it makes me happy. It's a beautiful thing.

I hope you enjoy the winter holiday season and practice meaningful traditions for you and yours.