clickmom

screech

So, I have been going back to the Y because the only way the husband will go is if I take him there and it is literally the only tid bit of exercise he gets. It's like having a strangely docile un-opinionated child, who is a foot taller than I am and completely unaware of his physical self.  The one area he does have an opinion on is politics, but his opinion is more of a disbelief that I am completely out of mind that we have an idiot puppet in the whitehouse who has the hand of a nazi firmly up his ass at all times. I can not believe this is America. People.  Yes I can. Some of us just suck.

The husband just can't get worked up over the fact that a century worth of social progress is going down the toilet, the environment might be irreversibly destroyed for our children and also, there is always the increasing threat of nuclear war.  If only I knew for sure we were going to get nuked, I'd just stop everything.  Nothing would actually matter anymore if I knew I was about to fry.  I'd just sit on the porch up in utopia and wait for the end.  Hopefully the kids would come with me! 

So, there is a secret part of me that would be happy in an end of humanity scenario because eventually all of the plants and animals would flourish and us humans wouldn't be around to ruin everything.

Here is a story for you.  Yesterday I got to the woods and I spotted some folks who once were the head of a group called Friends of The Woods, and I had recently (in an effort to get my work out to the public which might be interested it) offered some work up in a situation where they might be raising funds or something or anything.  I just want other people to see my work, and who better than people who love the woods like I do?  I went over to brown nose a bit and was aware of sweet pea near by.  I glanced her way just as a squirrel caught her eye and immediately tried to call her back to me but it was too late.  The squirrel took off in the direction of the road and so did sweet pea.  She ran across a two way street and into the woods on the other side of the road, all while I ran behind her screeching like a mad woman.  That sane voice in the back of my head tried to point out to the me who was screeching that no one in the history of man ever wanted to return to a screeching shrew but I was way too panic stricken and far gone to remain calm.  Sweet pea gracefully leaped over both of the stone fences to get onto and past the road, while I ran up the driveway and then magically jumped onto the fence on the other side of the street.  (sane voice in my head was impressed) I called (screamed) to sweet pea thinking she would return to me safely since we were now both on the same side of the street but once she was done with the chase she bolted back over the wall to return to the place she had left me in the parking lot on the other side of the street and not the me who had dashed across the street and adrenalin lept to the top of the wall. I saw her heading back and realized that cars were coming from both directions so I leaped off the wall back into traffic (yes, I endangered my own life for sweet pea) and with my hot pink gloved hands held out to either side I stopped traffic in both directions while sweet pea dashed across and I gave the drivers a thumbs up gesture as I ran arms outstretched in my ankle length down coat and heavy duty hiking boots thumbs pointing to the sky after her. I would have beaten the crap out of her if there weren't any witnesses. But instead I just screeched a bit more into her face and leashed her up for a while until I calmed down.  My friend was there and she walked over, not having seen the commotion which I know all happened mush faster than it felt, and said I heard you are the one doing all that screeching, what's going on?  So I had to make fun of myself. But at least my friend joined me on our morning walk, so that was nice.

so maybe

So, maybe this is because I kept remembering that I forgot to write a post about how when walking out of the Y one day with the husband I saw a girl walking in with shorts that were so short that I wasn't sure if wasn't just a long shirt she was wearing and it was super cold out that day so I said out loud "I wonder what kind of mom I would have been for a daughter" Since in my own mind I imagine having a 21st century daughter would involve a whole lot of arguing where I scream "You are not going out of this house half naked young lady!!"  Much to my surprise the husband actually answered the completely rhetorical question with "I'm sure you would have been a great mother to a daughter" with kindness and sincerity. 

It was one of things where I would have rewound time and recorded that since, I'm pretty sure the last time he said something nice was 9/11 when he shockingly and completely out of character said "I have a great family" just before heading towards the world trade center where he used to work.

So, maybe, because I am at a loss for any other reason, that is why I had a dream last (oh yes, it is another dream post) where we made a baby.  I will spare you the gory production details (you're welcome), however, once I dream-realized that I was probably in fact dream-pregnant I asked my self what possible chance a baby born to an aged woman such as me, with an aged and sickly gentleman such as the husband had of being healthy and normal and then I was really dream-sad wondering about all the ways this future dream-child would be incapacitated. Also, I did dream-mourn the loss of my long awaited ME time which I recognized as being around the corner in my not dream world. You know, the ME time that never manages to become a reality? Even in my dreams I am acutely aware of how trapped my current life situation makes me feel.  Also, I am incredibly reality based in my dreams, completely understanding the risks of mid life pregnancy.  And weirdly, even during my dream I was aware that I was keeping things real by not pretending that getting pregnant at this stage of my life was going to be a walk in the park, and I knew I was keeping it real. So, strange.

I woke up with all of those bad feelings right under the surface and also kind of tired because this dream happened early in the night and once I woke up in a panic over the dream-pregnancy and had to fully wake myself to recognize the much better reality of actually not a single chance in hell of being pregnant (with the one exception of a new savior being born from an immaculate conception) (TMI?) I had understandable trouble falling back to sleep.

Which is fascinating since not only did I do a three hour walk in the woods with sweet pea yesterday morning but I also did 44 flights of stair climbing on the stair climber followed by an hour long qigong class in the afternoon, so I should have been physically tired enough to pass out for a solid 8 hours. Wouldn't you think?

This time of year always gets me down, even when my life is all peaches and cream. Not sure when I ever thought life was peaches and cream, and this could possibly be my problem! I'm third of waking up in the dark, showering, drying, getting dressed and then taking sweet pea out for her morning whiz while it is still dark!! One day I'm going to have to get my own personal tropical greenhouse in which I can pretend it is eternally summer or move somewhere less wintry.  Moving sounds like it is actually the easier choice since I pretty much kill every plant.  Not a green thumb.

the post I forgot to post

So much to say.

First: I walked in the NY Women's March last Saturday. Total solidarity.  It felt fabulous, especially since I have been feeling completely isolated since election day. It was really what the doctor ordered.  For real, I would do it over and over and over again if that was the one way to change things. 

Second: I'm totally sure more life happened to me since last Saturday but right now I can't recall a thing.

Third: In general I'm feeling really tired and sad and I am sure that is almost all because of the doom this administration (can not bring myself to use the P title with the T name) will bring upon us.  For real, I am already mourning the loss of the environment and am convince that irreparable damage is right around the corner.  Then I am concerned for the people who will die without health insurance and social security. Women's rights, racism, homophobia, you name it. It's all so inconceivable to me! How can such monsters be in positions of power after everything we know from history? I did read one uplifting article today which argued that the rebound from this debacle could put the US in the opposite direction for the next 50 years. At least if that happens I will be dead before everyone loses their grip on reality again. My biggest challenge will be making through the next four years.  As an artist I need to channel this energy into some powerful work, but this kind of energy makes me want to crawl under the covers.  Must reconcile that.

Probably the reason I feel artistically mute right now is because as a child anger was not an option for me.  I was certainly trained from the beginning to just sit back and smile no matter what was shoveled onto my lap.  Tough to reprogram at my advanced age. Maybe my art can be about that-about not feeling like I am allowed to be angry.  Or about sex, because in the end sex sells, right?  

Speaking of sex, I have got to write my book!  I am going to sit down tonight and sketch out a rough draft of the book.  REPEAT: I AM GOING TO SIT DOWN TONIGHT AND SKETCH OUT A ROUGH DRAFT OF THE BOOK.  Just trying to get that through my own thick skull. I mean, really, it isn't going to get written if I don't write it, right? This book needs to get written. 

When I was a little girl I used to imagine myself as a guest on Johnny Carson and he was always interviewing me about the book I had written. Maybe I was a psychic little girl!  And Johnny Carson was really some other late night host, take your pick, I'll talk to any of them! (Not going to tell you which are my favorites!) 

 

so support groups

I was in grand central day and there was a homeless woman wearing full out geisha makeup and sitting at a cafe table surrounded by folks just going about their business, including eating at the table right beside her like they weren't sitting next to a crazy homeless woman dancing to the music in her head and muttering out loud. All I wanted was my camera.

So, I found a support group for the current diagnosis (which the husband tells me he is "not convinced" he has- this inability to accept the diagnosis is a hallmark of the disease!) and I went tonight for the second time.  It's very interesting, by which I mean I am not entirely sure that a support group is good thing or a bad thing.  While I do like some of the people I have met there (another artist in particular) it is somewhat upsetting to hear the stories of the people who are farther advanced in this disease than the husband.  It is completely validating when other people say the exact same thing I have heard myself saying (tonight one woman said she told her therapist that the reason she was in therapy was because she was angry all of the time and did not see herself as an angry person and did not want to feel angry!  Hello?  I said the exact same words to the new town shrink so many years before I even knew what was going on!!) and as usual I find myself craving validation, so hearing other people feeling my feelings is a good thing.  I'm really glad the subject of anger came up because now I feel less guilty about feeling angry and can get on with the process of letting go of the anger. Tonight I got the always special gift of someone asking me my age and then telling me that  they would have guessed I was in my 30's.  I eat that up people! This woman can be my new best friend! 

I do find myself feeling anxious the days leading up to the support group and super sad the couple of days after, so today I made sure to combine the support group with some fun stuff, like gallery hopping all morning with a school friend and grabbing coffee with the artist before the support group, so like the kid who gets a lollipop after the doctor's visit for immunizations, I will associate hearing terrifying stories about other people's pain and suffering with something fun.  Life should be so simple.

I started meditating again and I am hoping it will make me a better person. Tonight the husband was picking me up at the train station and he texted me to say he was sitting in his car right where he had dropped me off at 8 o'clock this morning.  I thought about sending him a bitchy sarcastic text back, something like "It totally makes sense for the person in the car to wait on the wrong side of the tracks so I'll just run through that bridge under the tracks besides the traffic and be there a few minutes after the train pulls out.  Hopefully I won't get hit by a car in the busy parking lot!" But instead I sent him a text which said "Go to the other side." and he did, and I did not have to risk my life hauling my tired ass through the tunnel next to the cars under the train tracks. In retrospect it seems so simple, but you know, I had to brush aside all of that anger to get there.

caressing the horse's nose

So, the husband reeeaaaally needs to get his ass to the gym, especially since his only form of activity, cardiac rehab, (can't even call it exercise) finished up right around the holidays. So, I've been taking him to the Y and while he does his thing on the reclining bike I will hop onto another piece of equipment. Not sure why, but I was trying to do my thing on the elliptical trainer, until my right knee started to scream and scream, so I hopped onto the bike to get the pressure off the knee.  But not just any bike, I hopped onto the expresso bike! Oh, expresso bike, how I missed you and did not even know it!  I got reacquainted with my old friend yesterday.  At first I was hesitant and unsure what to do, after all, it has been quite some time.  I wasn't even sure how much I would be able to do! But, I decided to throw caution to the wind and attempt an old favorite 7+ mile route and 30 minutes later I was sweating like I meant it, had beaten the pacer by about a minute and I was totally smiling ear to ear.  Yeah, it might be premature to say "I am back on the horse" but not innaccurate to say I am standing in the barn caressing the horse's nose. 

why bottoms

Someone asked me not too long ago why I always take photos of the bottom of trees.  I thought to myself DUH!! as if it really only made sense to do it that way and it was completely obvious, and then I chilled my defensive self out and asked myself the same question. 

So, here is what I came up with.

1. I don't only photograph bottoms.
2. Maybe I am a wee bit defensive.
3. The bottoms are what I see and what I look at. I don't spend much time at all looking up. Maybe I should book the shrink to think about that one. Sounds like I am either depressed or focusing forward on a goal. Hopefully not depressed.
4. Aren't my photos, or isn't my job as an artist,  to share my personal interpretation or experience with an audience? I experience the bottoms, not the tops. This sounds a lot like number 3.
5. Oooops, back peddling into defensive.
6. I really think that the trunks of trees  are more expressive and I like their simplicity.
7. It's kind of thickly wooded where I choose to shoot and most of the time I can't get much more distance from the subject without another tree(s) blocking the view.
8. IT'S THE ONLY WAY WHICH MAKES SENSE. DUH.

I also think the real sub conscious answer to this question might have some thing to do with looking up.  Recall: Before the summer I thought I might make a whole series of photos which are all based on looking up.  I whipped out my cameras and Noooooooope.  Couldn't do it.  I could not wrap my stressed out head around looking up.  Even when I was lying flat on my back outside I just couldn't think creatively and look up.  Kind of crazy huh?

Wow, thanks for so much for reading this far.  I feel like you deserve a gift. Here is a low quality (there are people out there who would steal an image off of the internet you know...) snap shot of the computer screen I made while editing a diptych of two trees I photographed a couple of weeks ago. 

 

 

 

 

wires

I am so terrified of the disaster that trump could potentially leave this world in that every time I hear his voice I become nauseated. I'm not kidding you.

An event I neglected to mention because it is a little bit embarrassing is that a couple of weeks ago I woke up and was in such pain that I asked Evan to drive me to the emergency room.  I thought it was appendicitis, and so did the ER people, but a CAT scan said it was not appendicitis.  Most likely it is a burst ovarian cyst which I am told by everyone who ever had one is quite painful. Ok. The CAT scan did however see some cysts and also some stuff on my liver. They gave me an ultrasound too. I went to the gyn about the cysts (getting another ultrasound next week) and am going to the good doc Tuesday about my liver.  Frankly, I am more concerned about the liver because now I have weird pains coming from that area. I've had strange sensations there ever since getting my gall bladder out 4 years ago, and have been told that it isn't uncommon for a gall stone to be left behind after the surgery which might continue to hurt, blah blah blah...  Everyone (as in the average people I chat with at the dog park-not doctors) thinks it is normal, but I vividly recall everyone telling me it was normal for babies to poop a lot when I said I was overwhelmed with the amount of diaper changing and no one ever asked how many poopy diapers I was changing for Matt (12 or so-12 poops a day!) and I never knew that this was completely abnormal until Evan came along 4 years later with his normal digestive system. Then I wondered about the idiots who thought 3 or 4 poops a day were a lot.  Wussies. My point here is that I do not think the sensation emanating from my liver area is normal and am doubtful of anyone in the medical community taking anything I say seriously, because that just seems to be how it goes for me.  Biggest fear?  My mom's cancer was tucked behind her liver, so even though it was in her entire abdomen by the time she sought help for it, it started behind the liver.

So, just for the record, here is the recap: I've been having bouts of nausea since the summer (oh yeah, issues with frequent elimination as well) and increasingly sharp pains in the liver area, with maybe a burst ovarian cyst thrown in for giggles. Yahoo for getting older.

Speaking of getting older, holy mother of all things I do not want on my face- no one told me that women can get the wiry eye brow hairs!  As far as I can recall, my mother barely had eye brows, she just drew them on every day.  Is it possible she was so upset about the thick telephone cables growing out of her brows that she just plucked them off? Grandma didn't have much in the brow region either, and I know from her chinny chin chin that she was not a tweezing enthusiast, so ....What gives mother nature?  Is this how it goes down, I just turn into a man?  I don't want to turn into a man!  Not even for all the privilege that comes along with being a man!  Do you hear me universe? I would rather be a woman and face all the discrimination that comes along with being a woman than be a man, so take your big thick eye brow wires back!! 

laughing!! hahahaha

Pretty much every time I walk the dog and the temperature is below 30 I return with a touch of frostbite on my chubby cheeks.  It would be much more adorable if I were 5 instead of 51, which I might mention often for a little bit before that number gets bumped up next month.

This morning I did my usual weekend slog, and did not walk sweet pea immediately upon waking, which gets more complicated on a Saturday when Josh has his dance class at noon, so since the snow was not predicted to start falling until noon, I decided I would drop Josh off at dance and then walk sweet pea during the still not treacherous early part of the snow storm, which seemed like a solid plan until the snow started coming down at 10AM.  I followed through anyway, and so as not to surprise anyone walked out of the woods with bright red stinging cheeks.  It probably doesn't help that it was 21 degrees during todays walk/snowfall.  

Have I told you enough how much I do not like snow?  My "feelings" about snow are getting uglier with each passing winter. It could possibly have something to do with the slip on the ice concussion of 2015 or the slip on the ice almost break everything from my wrist to my shoulder blade, but require 3 separate MRIs to access all of the damage winter of 2014.  It may have started with the slip on the ice of '96 which resulted in a fractured scaphoid and three months casted. (all of which had my thumb in a cast and half of which were arm bent at a 90 degree angle and cast up to my arm pit)

This is my recollection of my response to winter in upstate New York during college..It's zero degrees out?  Better bring my gloves for the liqour store outing.  Here is my recollection of how I responded to snow while the kids were young. Snow?  Who wants to go sledding?! And today when it's cold or I look outside and see snow SHIT!  

Despite all of the warning signs which might indicate I am going to be a cranky old lady I thought I'd mention that in the past week I spent a few minutes with two different older women, one of whom is 85, who are bright, sunny and the essence of lovely and each time I walked away from the encounter thinking that I aspire to grow old as graciously as those two women.  (Just maybe in a warmer climate)

I brought my camera with me on the walk mostly because it was gently softly snowing when we left the house (but not by the time I got to the woods, of course) and also because somehow despite listening to the news all morning I missed the part where it was 21 degrees here. (My camera does not work if it gets below 18 degrees)   I did take some photos in the blinding wet horizontal snow but I don't have such high hopes for them since after taking the last photo I realized that my breath was not only fogging up the view finder that my eye sees through but the front of the lens too.  I suspect that most of the images will have been shot through a half frosted over lens. If I don't laugh at myself I'm going to jump off a bridge, so I'm laughing!!  HAHAHAHA