Thursday, October 22, 2015
WARRIOR!!!
https://youtu.be/wR3jMZhUWY8?list=PL_jxFaykzU8CSjCdSJamAv6Yh_S48prrm
This has been a very long month for me. I've lost count of how many doctors appointments I've had in the last three weeks. I had to fight to have an ultrasound done properly - it took six months, and they still were not willing to give me a whole breast bilateral here in BC. My Oncologist surgeon in Calgary was livid, as was my psychiatrist.
Apparently here in BC hospitals, as I'm told by the radiologist, they will not perform whole breast ultrasounds only "targeted" ones.
"Show me your lump and I'll scan it". I finally lost it, I broke into deep crying hysterics. I fought to have my simple six month post-op follow up ultrasound, requested in May of this year, to be done as per my Calgary surgeon's requisition. It took three ultrasound appointments and three inconclusive results, of me constantly trying to explain that I needed a whole-breast-bilateral to the radiology staff at Nanaimo hospital. I had the requisition in my hand "It is doctors orders" crying hysterically to the radiology technician this past Tuesday.
She finally relented in a tantrum huff and did the damned whole breast bilateral. At that point it had been a year since my last bilateral lumpectomy surgery. An incredible five months had passed since my surgeon had still not seen a proper six month post-op follow up ultra sound as requested.
It has been two years in a row I've had surgery to remove multiple fibroids, five surgeries in total for both my breasts and twice removed from my uterus. I have no choice to be proactive.
NO ONE should EVER have to fight that hard for a simple procedure PERIOD!!! I have a serious history of ovarian cancer and colon cancer in my blood lines. My mother lost her fight to both.
I'm scheduled for my regular five year colonoscopy tomorrow- because I'm a WARRIOR not a worrier.
Update: I ended up having two polyps removed from my colon - the lab results to rule out malignancy will be available to me in three weeks. Fingers crossed.
Friday, June 5, 2015
BOOBS - AGAIN!!!??
It has been a long time since my last blog post. Soo much has happened since the blog about BOOBS on November 4, 2013. I ended up having my lumps removed soon after the blog and was in a great deal of pain because they had to open up my nipples, yes both, to remove huge fibroids. Life went on and exactly one year later to the day I had to have yet another bilateral lumpectomy in November 2014 to remove another set of larger fibroids. I was sent home with a requsition to have a follow up ultrasound in six months to monitor the growths.
Well its been six months and wouldn't ch'ya know it....the lil fuckers are back with a vengeance and are the same incredible size as the ones I just had removed six months ago. My oncologist surgeon wants to wait and see if they grow, so I have to wait till October for another peek with yet another ultrasound to rule out malignancy. It was bad enough that this was turning out to be an annual event, the pain/mental anguish and then suffering the physical aftermath from surgery, but every six months?
Of course all this is sending my nasty friend, anxiety, into a tail spin. My new African psychiatrist has to deal with the outfall and is hopelessly medicating the shit out of me. The good doctor is pleading with me, in his extravagant African accent, "Noot to leeve in da futcha". "You must noot tink fowad - yez" -Just handle the thoughts you have in order to deal with only today's tasks. That's easy for him to say...! He then quickly gave me the phone number of a highly respected psychologist!
Anxiety is a bitch - honestly, I don't know which is more crippling! There are days I can't even breathe, when I can finally catch a deep breath, my boob pain stabs into my rib cage! Fight or flight. It feels like the giant saber tooth tiger is constantly nipping at my heels.
This is a link that explains anxiety and what it is like to live with and it nails it on the head!
Wednesday, June 11, 2014
Monday, November 4, 2013
BOOBS!!!!
Getting very anxious about my surgery. I still want to back out.
In just over ten days I will undergo my second "partial mastectomy", as it was written on my consent form in 1994. I have a history with fibroid cystic disease, and to complicate things further, I have dangerously dense breast tissue. I presently have as many as 8 fibroids in various stages of growth.
Even with the new digital technology my mammograms are difficult to read. I have better results with an ultrasound but they can't see the difference between calcification's and ... well... the bad tumors. I also have fibroids of the uterus, and have a long family history of cancer. My mother fought ovarian and colon cancer and lost. My aunt just had a 15cm fibroid cyst cut out of her ovary.
I suffered dearly from my last operation, and still am suffering the effects to this day. Aside from the infected sutures, the horrible bruising over most of my torso, and the constant vomiting from the side effect from the anesthetic, I now have a bad case of vertigo, also from the anesthetic, that has been getting worse with age.
I am in constant pain because the location of the removal was very close to all the nerves that run from your arm/hand thru the armpit. I was just recently, finally, given a cortisol injection into the scar tissue. As painful as the shot was, it relieved years of accumulating pain. You don't realize just how much pain you are in until it is taken away, even if it is just briefly! I had lost the use of my arm and fine motor skills for two months after that dreaded operation years ago.
In ten days they are cutting into that very same pocket of sensitive nerves to remove a three by one and a half centimeter growth - directly underneath my scar tissue! I will also have a two and a half centimeter growth removed from under my nipple in my other breast.
The thoughts/fears of pain management and loosing the use of my arms are very real. I've finally managed to gather the mental strength to explore my old artist self and am very much looking forward to allowing it to flourish. My pottery and photography/painting my tins, are all upper body arm strength with a need to retain my fine motor skills. The what-if's are haunting! The memories of waking up after that first surgery and asking the nurse as they were wheeling me out of the operating room if it's supposed to hurt this much, asking if I ended up having a mastectomy.
I've been saying for many years since - NEVER AGAIN! If I were to be reopened, it would have to be to save my life. I have been vigilant by cutting my caffeine intake cold turkey to zero. No pop, no dried fruit or nuts, no cured meats no bacon. And now I face more anguish and pain despite my efforts. Makes me want to go grocery shopping and go face down on all the things I love and have been holding back for too many decades! Van Houte cafe moca, in a bowl of course, with a huge piece of chocolate cake and chocolate icing! An entire box of Smarties with a coke to wash it down! Roasted cashews. I digress.
This operation just feels like I'm trading in pain for more pain without a positive outcome or improvement. It hurts if I do and it hurts if I don't go thru with it. I guess if anything, at least it will clean out the big lumps so the doc can see a clean mammo or ultrasound in the future.
I'm scared- ok terrified. All my memories that relate to hospitals since a very young age are post traumatic for which I am in treatment for. I've been in the hospital too many times in the last three years. Enough with the needles already!!
In just over ten days I will undergo my second "partial mastectomy", as it was written on my consent form in 1994. I have a history with fibroid cystic disease, and to complicate things further, I have dangerously dense breast tissue. I presently have as many as 8 fibroids in various stages of growth.
Even with the new digital technology my mammograms are difficult to read. I have better results with an ultrasound but they can't see the difference between calcification's and ... well... the bad tumors. I also have fibroids of the uterus, and have a long family history of cancer. My mother fought ovarian and colon cancer and lost. My aunt just had a 15cm fibroid cyst cut out of her ovary.
I suffered dearly from my last operation, and still am suffering the effects to this day. Aside from the infected sutures, the horrible bruising over most of my torso, and the constant vomiting from the side effect from the anesthetic, I now have a bad case of vertigo, also from the anesthetic, that has been getting worse with age.
I am in constant pain because the location of the removal was very close to all the nerves that run from your arm/hand thru the armpit. I was just recently, finally, given a cortisol injection into the scar tissue. As painful as the shot was, it relieved years of accumulating pain. You don't realize just how much pain you are in until it is taken away, even if it is just briefly! I had lost the use of my arm and fine motor skills for two months after that dreaded operation years ago.
In ten days they are cutting into that very same pocket of sensitive nerves to remove a three by one and a half centimeter growth - directly underneath my scar tissue! I will also have a two and a half centimeter growth removed from under my nipple in my other breast.
The thoughts/fears of pain management and loosing the use of my arms are very real. I've finally managed to gather the mental strength to explore my old artist self and am very much looking forward to allowing it to flourish. My pottery and photography/painting my tins, are all upper body arm strength with a need to retain my fine motor skills. The what-if's are haunting! The memories of waking up after that first surgery and asking the nurse as they were wheeling me out of the operating room if it's supposed to hurt this much, asking if I ended up having a mastectomy.
I've been saying for many years since - NEVER AGAIN! If I were to be reopened, it would have to be to save my life. I have been vigilant by cutting my caffeine intake cold turkey to zero. No pop, no dried fruit or nuts, no cured meats no bacon. And now I face more anguish and pain despite my efforts. Makes me want to go grocery shopping and go face down on all the things I love and have been holding back for too many decades! Van Houte cafe moca, in a bowl of course, with a huge piece of chocolate cake and chocolate icing! An entire box of Smarties with a coke to wash it down! Roasted cashews. I digress.
This operation just feels like I'm trading in pain for more pain without a positive outcome or improvement. It hurts if I do and it hurts if I don't go thru with it. I guess if anything, at least it will clean out the big lumps so the doc can see a clean mammo or ultrasound in the future.
I'm scared- ok terrified. All my memories that relate to hospitals since a very young age are post traumatic for which I am in treatment for. I've been in the hospital too many times in the last three years. Enough with the needles already!!
I've decided to be proactive and take charge. I am having cancer genetic testing done. I am at high risk and no longer want to live in fear every time I am being admitted. What's one more blood test right?
Wednesday, October 23, 2013
Great News!
I've been an active member of an artist collective in the Elk Valley, (ElementalArt) for about a year now and today we are presenting a proposal for funding at an open house! We hope to build a vibrant art community to aid working artists and build a solid learning environment for future artists to come.
We present or proposal at 4pm - very excited! Stay tuned!
LIKE us on Facebook!
https://www.facebook.com/elkfordartists?ref=hl
Tuesday, July 9, 2013
Macro Summer Blooms
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| "Under the Umbrellas" Kaslo Road, BC |
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| Potantilla - "Sweat and Shadows" |
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| Asian Poppy 1st Hour of Bloom |
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| Poppy Ruffles - "Flamenco" |
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| "Bubble Bath" |
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| "Umbrella Teeth" |
Saturday, January 19, 2013
NEXT UP ON THE EASEL...
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| "BIRTH" |
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| "DAY BREAK" |
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| "NIGHT" |
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| "WAVES AT TOFINO" |
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| "NEURONS" |
My next painting project:
"FROST ON WINDOW IN BLUE"
Macro Photographs printed on sheets of ultra high gloss aluminum, then hand painted in fine detail with a clear acrylic tar gel medium - to enhance a stunning tactile two dimensional experience!
Art you are encouraged to touch!
This
Wednesday, January 2, 2013
What A Year!
I'm really looking forward to 2013.
My hand painted tins are a hit! At the beguinning of December I was asked to take part in a group show at the brand new Elkford community hall. I received fantastic feedback and made one of the biggest sales to date! The three other artists who were part of the show had fantastic feedback also.
So much so, that we have decided to work as a collective towards developing artistic culture in our small town and in the East Kootenay Rocky Mountain region. The district of Elkford has invited us back for another show in the spring and we are working towards forming our collective brand in time.
We've decided that we would start by entering a contest offered by the
Diamond Willow Artisan Retreat.
Diamond Willow Artisan Retreat.
www.diamondwillowartisanretreat.com/
https://www.facebook.com/pages/Diamond-Willow-Artisan-Retreat/129674514137
The contest offers a gift certificate to the person who writes in and explains why they deserve the $350.00 credit to stay at the retreat.
The retreat is an incredible place, it is a bed and breakfast that offers artists a chance to work and learn in an open concept studio with instruction from invited specialized talents.
The "Group of Four", our new art collective, is in its infancy. We have incredible and encouraging support from the District of Elkford to help us grow and improve the art scene here in our small town.
We need help to get our collective up and running. We feel the retreat would be a great place to brain storm and make the vision a reality in 2013.
If we win the gift certificate, we intend to offer it to a branding specialist to brain storm with us at the retreat. It would be a great way to share, learn and grow our vision in a nurturing artistic environment. Not to mention the great relaxing location, lodging and home cooked meals!
Wish us luck :)
Wish us luck :)
Thursday, November 1, 2012
Next up on the easel...
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| "Bugaboo Spires, Purcell Mountain Range" BC |
Probably the most challenging "Hand Painted Tin" that I have yet to attempt. Originally photographed on medium format film, from a helicopter, thru a small window located at hip level, it was one of those "Hail Mary"shots. I just came across this negative while gathering new material for my new website, now in production, and fell in love with this long lost image.
Painting it will be a labor of love!
I'll be experimenting with acrylic Tar Gel and Iron Oxide mediums, and possibly try out my new jar of Black Perl Mica.
At 20x20 finished size, the details in the crevasses of the granite towers will be a striking interactive/tactile experience to the touch!
My goal is to submit three Hand Painted Tins of the Bugaboo Spires to the Whyte Museum's call to artists. Wish me luck, its been a very long standing dream of mine to be represented by any gallery, let alone the world renowned historical Whyte Museum of The Rockies in Banff.
I invite you to read some interesting facts of the Bugaboos!
In 1969, Bugaboo Glacier Provincial Park and the Bugaboo Alpine Recreation Area
were set
aside to preserve and protect this outstanding
area of the Purcells. In 1972, the Alpine Club of Canada erected
a three story quonset building for climbers. The Conrad Kain Hut
was named after renowned alpinist who made many first ascents during
the early 1900’s in the Purcell and Rocky Mountains. In 1995,
the park and part of the surrounding recreation area were combined
to create the Bugaboo Provincial Park.
Over time the erosive forces of mountain weather and glacial ice removed much of the weaker overlying rock revealing granite masses and sculpting them into the spectacular spires that characterize the Bugaboo region. The heavy snowfall of the "Columbia Wet Belt" continues to create the vast glaciers that dominate and shape the rugged Purcell Mountains.
The steep V-shaped valleys of the Purcells challenged early explorers, miners, loggers and climbers from Europe and North America. News of the spectacular spires of the Bugaboos were a magnet for some of North America’s most renowned mountaineers. Harmon, Longstaff, A.O. Wheeler and the legendary guide Conrad Kain visited the Bugaboo region in 1910. Kain returned with the MacCarthys in 1916 and climbed the North Howser "Tower" and the south ridge of Bugaboo Spire, which he considered his most difficult Canadian ascent. Thorington mapped the area and then climbed with Kain in 1933 on Crescent Spire. In 1938 and 1939 the Northpost, Eastpost and Brenta Spires were ascended by easy routes. Snowpatch, beyond the techniques used in Kain’s era, was climbed by its southeast ridge in 1940 by Arnold and Bedayn. By the 1950s climbers such as Fred Beckey, Ed Cooper and Layton Kor put up the first "face" routes on Snowpatch, Bugaboo and Pigeon Spires. Chouinard traversed the Howsers in 1965 and Chris Jones pioneered on their 600-metre ascent of West Face in 1970.
Today those early routes, first done with many pitons and bolts, are often repeated by "free climbers" who use only the less damaging aluminium chocks for protection against falls. Free-climbing techniques enable faster ascents, resulting in reduced exposure to the frequent lightning storms; modern climbers have continually opened new lines of ascent in an area where the elements of glaciers, firm rock, significant altitude and violent weather all combine to create world-class mountaineering challenges.
Over time the erosive forces of mountain weather and glacial ice removed much of the weaker overlying rock revealing granite masses and sculpting them into the spectacular spires that characterize the Bugaboo region. The heavy snowfall of the "Columbia Wet Belt" continues to create the vast glaciers that dominate and shape the rugged Purcell Mountains.
The steep V-shaped valleys of the Purcells challenged early explorers, miners, loggers and climbers from Europe and North America. News of the spectacular spires of the Bugaboos were a magnet for some of North America’s most renowned mountaineers. Harmon, Longstaff, A.O. Wheeler and the legendary guide Conrad Kain visited the Bugaboo region in 1910. Kain returned with the MacCarthys in 1916 and climbed the North Howser "Tower" and the south ridge of Bugaboo Spire, which he considered his most difficult Canadian ascent. Thorington mapped the area and then climbed with Kain in 1933 on Crescent Spire. In 1938 and 1939 the Northpost, Eastpost and Brenta Spires were ascended by easy routes. Snowpatch, beyond the techniques used in Kain’s era, was climbed by its southeast ridge in 1940 by Arnold and Bedayn. By the 1950s climbers such as Fred Beckey, Ed Cooper and Layton Kor put up the first "face" routes on Snowpatch, Bugaboo and Pigeon Spires. Chouinard traversed the Howsers in 1965 and Chris Jones pioneered on their 600-metre ascent of West Face in 1970.
Today those early routes, first done with many pitons and bolts, are often repeated by "free climbers" who use only the less damaging aluminium chocks for protection against falls. Free-climbing techniques enable faster ascents, resulting in reduced exposure to the frequent lightning storms; modern climbers have continually opened new lines of ascent in an area where the elements of glaciers, firm rock, significant altitude and violent weather all combine to create world-class mountaineering challenges.
Friday, September 7, 2012
My New Venture - "Painting Tins"
~ More Shameless Self Promotion ~
This next one "Allium Glow" Actually Glows in the Dark!
I have rented an exhibitor booth at The Home and Design Show
So you can take a peek at the painted versions - They MUST be seen to believe!
So you can take a peek at the painted versions - They MUST be seen to believe!
This next one "Allium Glow" Actually Glows in the Dark!
Wednesday, July 25, 2012
Nancy's Couch
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Nancy was the kind of person who would literally give you the shirt off her back. She was generous. So generous in fact that it gave her great pleasure to make sure that if you liked something that was in her possession, she made sure you had one too. She would on occasion, join us girls for our weekly "It's Wing Night Bitchez" gaggle, and bring along things she was no longer in need of. One night she had a slew of purses and hand bags and "statement T-shirts" and handed them out to the girls. We all have one that represents our personality in some way or another. On another occasion, when she was visiting, she had a hand woven basket filled with yummy goodies. I had mentioned how beautiful her basket was and she insisted I have it. I cherish it, using it as a carry all for my acrylics, brushes and art supplies.
The utter shock of her suicide has had an impact on our little gaggle of girlz, each of us suffering in our own distinct ways. Each of us at our own different retched levels of grief and turmoil. I often worry if it will bring us closer together or if the pain will shift us apart. Each of us wailing inside but keeping busy to avoid the breach of containment.
My personal journey with the experience has taught me many things. How to be more generous, thoughtful. How to cherish every moment as if it were my last. Not to be judgmental and too quick to offer my opinion. My last exchange with Nancy shortly before she died was regretful. I feel now that I was too opinionated, telling her that I felt she was heading into a downward spiral, to get much needed help. I now suffer from survivors guilt. Being that I've had my own experience with seeking medical attention for my own mental health issues - I survived and she never had a chance.
Since her passing I have been in contact with Nancy's cousin. She had seen a photo I posted on facebook of a water color drawing Nancy did while we were together at "The Chateau Grand". She mentioned that they were having an open house to invite Nancy's friends to retrieve mementos they wished to have to remember her by. Being that Nancy was a very giving person I knew how much it would have meant to her to have her cherished keepsakes distributed amongst her friends.
Since Nancy was an avid music fan, and my husband has an extensive background with the Mississippi Blues, I thought it fitting to have Nancy's groovy antique couch in our music room. She would have loved the idea. The couch is very cozy and comfortable, a great place to sit, relax and reflect while indulging in music therapy for the soul.
I will think of her tomorrow, while crowds gather for the music festival. I will lounge on her groovy cozy couch and indulge in some much needed music therapy in her memory. She would have liked that. My biggest regret is that her illness robbed her of her favorite things.
Sunday, April 22, 2012
Big Tin Blues...
Four am Saturday, April 21st, awake - wide awake, the mind is racing. Not unusual but thankfully less frequent. The antidepressants have been working like a gem, the side effects are almost manageable. The anti anxiety meds are helping but I'm becoming dependent.
I've got energy, spring has finally arrived and I'm out on my bike and have started yoga on my own aside from the weekly classes. The art classes are helping and are very enjoyable, but unfortunately coming to an end because my instructor is retiring. I've started to feel inspired that my art is blossoming, especially the Tins. I'm getting very positive feedback and enjoy the originality of the concept and thinking I can make something out of it.
I'm struggling with the thought that I may not be able to make my dream of selling my new "Hand Painted Tin with Acrylics" concept in the future because of production problems. My supplier keeps dropping the ball. The tins have an aluminum box glued to the rear to hang the flat tin and make it stand out from the wall. During production the rear frame seems to be mounted too forcefully and dents the tin, so much so that it leaves and impression on the front of the tin and image. I've had to return several.
The first painted tin was barely noticeable so I let it go and painted it anyway because I was on a deadline for a showing at a corporate open house. While the tin was at the corporate showing, the glue released from the rear frame and the tin came crashing to the floor, permanently damaging the tin. I had invested four hours of detailed labor and and approx $30. of acrylic, now destroyed. Not to mention that the host of the open house was completely unprofessional and humiliated me in front of her guests because the tin damaged her brand new floor boards. (Real impressed with her compassion & professionalism)!
I took the product back to the supplier and they replaced the tin, yet another replacement and loss as they simply took it as a sample to show the lab who produces it. All that detailed painting mica flakes one tiny little crystal at a time on every little tip of every tree branch - GONE.
I had faith, they said they'd replace it and make sure it would not happen again. My reorder arrives - all 5 replacements, and only one is ok, the rest have to be returned for dents.
As I lay awake last night in the very wee hours of dawn, I hear a hard crash and thump. Terrified that someone was trying to get into the house, I had to lay there and calm my panic attack before even thinking of what I would do next. I'm home alone, it is now very still and I can hear the birds starting to sing and my heart is no longer thumping. I muster up the courage to investigate and head downstairs.
I discover my favorite tin painting, a 20x30 of "Trails End Road, Algoma" laying on the floor. The photo itself is sentimental because it was one of the places I would have loved to have spread my mothers ashes when I was on my drive back from Montreal from her disinterment. The one painting that took all of 22 hours of very intensive detailed painting and almost $60 in special textured acrylics and would have sold for $650.00. It has a big dented/twisted corner and another small dent on another.
The back mount had come unglued and so did I. Unrepairable, will have to be a redo. Its just not worth the reinvestment if I can not guarantee the product to MY clients. Now what?
I've invested soo much into this new venture, I was really counting on it being my comeback from being unable to work and my saving grace financially. I've just put a deposit on a camera because mine is terribly outdated and is not longer considered a professional level camera. My sole purpose of investing in a camera (with a total cost of 6 grand) is to produce images that are capable of incredible detail when enlarged, with the intention that it will pimp the quality of my tins to a higher level of craftsmanship.
I'm having buyers remorse. My inspiration now pains me -do I keep trying to trust the supplier and continue this roller coaster ride, or shit-can the whole thing and cancel the camera order, at a loss. I'm heart broken. I'm very angry. I hate confrontation. I lack confidence on how to handle my supplier. My anxiety is incredible. I've tried everything to ease the feeling of loss. No amount of cycling or yoga or anti anxiety meds will ease the frustration.
I'm worried that I've tried to push myself too early before I was ready to go back to work. It has already been a year since my admittance to the cookoo's nest. WTF??
Well, tomorrow is another day. I will have to confront the supplier, and just take it one step at a time.
Fingers crossed that we can come to some sort of resolution. I love painting my tins, it keeps me healthy. - I think!!??
I've got energy, spring has finally arrived and I'm out on my bike and have started yoga on my own aside from the weekly classes. The art classes are helping and are very enjoyable, but unfortunately coming to an end because my instructor is retiring. I've started to feel inspired that my art is blossoming, especially the Tins. I'm getting very positive feedback and enjoy the originality of the concept and thinking I can make something out of it.
I'm struggling with the thought that I may not be able to make my dream of selling my new "Hand Painted Tin with Acrylics" concept in the future because of production problems. My supplier keeps dropping the ball. The tins have an aluminum box glued to the rear to hang the flat tin and make it stand out from the wall. During production the rear frame seems to be mounted too forcefully and dents the tin, so much so that it leaves and impression on the front of the tin and image. I've had to return several.
The first painted tin was barely noticeable so I let it go and painted it anyway because I was on a deadline for a showing at a corporate open house. While the tin was at the corporate showing, the glue released from the rear frame and the tin came crashing to the floor, permanently damaging the tin. I had invested four hours of detailed labor and and approx $30. of acrylic, now destroyed. Not to mention that the host of the open house was completely unprofessional and humiliated me in front of her guests because the tin damaged her brand new floor boards. (Real impressed with her compassion & professionalism)!
I took the product back to the supplier and they replaced the tin, yet another replacement and loss as they simply took it as a sample to show the lab who produces it. All that detailed painting mica flakes one tiny little crystal at a time on every little tip of every tree branch - GONE.
I had faith, they said they'd replace it and make sure it would not happen again. My reorder arrives - all 5 replacements, and only one is ok, the rest have to be returned for dents.
As I lay awake last night in the very wee hours of dawn, I hear a hard crash and thump. Terrified that someone was trying to get into the house, I had to lay there and calm my panic attack before even thinking of what I would do next. I'm home alone, it is now very still and I can hear the birds starting to sing and my heart is no longer thumping. I muster up the courage to investigate and head downstairs.
I discover my favorite tin painting, a 20x30 of "Trails End Road, Algoma" laying on the floor. The photo itself is sentimental because it was one of the places I would have loved to have spread my mothers ashes when I was on my drive back from Montreal from her disinterment. The one painting that took all of 22 hours of very intensive detailed painting and almost $60 in special textured acrylics and would have sold for $650.00. It has a big dented/twisted corner and another small dent on another.
The back mount had come unglued and so did I. Unrepairable, will have to be a redo. Its just not worth the reinvestment if I can not guarantee the product to MY clients. Now what?
I've invested soo much into this new venture, I was really counting on it being my comeback from being unable to work and my saving grace financially. I've just put a deposit on a camera because mine is terribly outdated and is not longer considered a professional level camera. My sole purpose of investing in a camera (with a total cost of 6 grand) is to produce images that are capable of incredible detail when enlarged, with the intention that it will pimp the quality of my tins to a higher level of craftsmanship.
I'm having buyers remorse. My inspiration now pains me -do I keep trying to trust the supplier and continue this roller coaster ride, or shit-can the whole thing and cancel the camera order, at a loss. I'm heart broken. I'm very angry. I hate confrontation. I lack confidence on how to handle my supplier. My anxiety is incredible. I've tried everything to ease the feeling of loss. No amount of cycling or yoga or anti anxiety meds will ease the frustration.
I'm worried that I've tried to push myself too early before I was ready to go back to work. It has already been a year since my admittance to the cookoo's nest. WTF??
Well, tomorrow is another day. I will have to confront the supplier, and just take it one step at a time.
Fingers crossed that we can come to some sort of resolution. I love painting my tins, it keeps me healthy. - I think!!??
Saturday, March 24, 2012
Pushing BIG Tin
Trails End Road Algoma Bay, North Shore Ontario
Hand Painted on High Gloss Metal
Acrylic Mixed Gel Mediums, Pumice, Extra Coarse Pumice, Interference, Iron Oxide
Finally finished my 20x30 Hand Painted Metallic print/painting!! It took me 22 hours and it looks FAB! I'm selling it on Etsy, and it may actually sell this Wednesday. I've been invited to show my tins at a corporate office open house.
I'm really excited but the pressure is on to paint all 6 tins in time, with promo materials, business cards and hanging materials. I'm confident I'll get it all done but I'm starting to get the jitters on the social anxiety side of the gig. It's going to be the first time in six years I've had to do the public relations PR schmoozing/sales.
Just thinking of being in a room full of strangers still makes me uncomfortable, let alone working the room. Time to get back on the horse I guess!! It has come upon me sooner that I ever expected. Hope the work speaks for its self cause I might me tongue tied!!
Thursday, March 22, 2012
Pushing Tin
Snow Falling from Cedars, Series (1 of 3)
I've chosen painting on photographs - aluminum sheets!
Its getting some attention too!
I've had the balls to take a class at The U of C on "How To Make Art Your Business"!
I've also been enrolled in art classes with Jon Williams, who unfortunately is retiring soon so my time is limited with him. I love the classes.
This is my first "tin" as I like to call them. Shot in Elkford, BC.
I've painted the snow on the tree tips with Mica Flake so it glistens like real ice!
High Gloss Metal is a very unique medium for presenting images. The process involves
infusing dye directly into a coated aluminum substrate.
infusing dye directly into a coated aluminum substrate.
(It’s a dye-sublimation transfer heated onto pre-coated aluminum).
The end result is a vibrant impressive print with great detail and resolution.
The aluminum is fixed with an extruded aluminum frame, inset on the back, which allows for a modern way to hang and display these prints.
The photograph is then hand painted with acrylic textured gels such as, Micaceous Iron Oxide, Pearl Mica Flake and acrylic fluid iridescent and interference paints as well as liquid inks that provide a true metallic look/sheen that will not tarnish with age.
The end result is a vibrant impressive print with great detail and resolution.
The aluminum is fixed with an extruded aluminum frame, inset on the back, which allows for a modern way to hang and display these prints.
The photograph is then hand painted with acrylic textured gels such as, Micaceous Iron Oxide, Pearl Mica Flake and acrylic fluid iridescent and interference paints as well as liquid inks that provide a true metallic look/sheen that will not tarnish with age.
A high gloss spray varnish is then applied for longevity.
Details of the Mica Flake
My next tin painting project was shot when I went home to Montreal to recover my mothers remains in September. It was taken along Ontario's North Shore in Algoma District.
Trails End Road, Algoma Bay, Ontario
This is the image in black and white, the painted aluminum will be completed in a few days.
It is quite a large tin (20x30). It is very detailed with fall colors and many types of shoreline old growth glistening deep green trees and mosses on the rocks so its labor intensive!
I'm already getting great feedback and its only half painted!
I have an Etsy storefront, so the tins are for sale directly from the online site:
Visit often, as I have five tins lined up for the easel waiting to be given life!
Work, work, work, LOV'IN IT!!!
Saturday, March 3, 2012
Abstract Impressionism - Photography, or both?
I've decided to dig up my roots and combine my past experience in art, with my professional photography. - A way of hopefully pulling myself out of burn-out from the "business" aspect of the "job" and reawaken the creative little girl in me that strived to be an artist long before becoming a photog.
As a professional photographer I am and have been dedicated to the idea of very detailed realism in my photographic work. Be it documentary/macro/landscapes. How am I ever going to decide on my newest fascination - Acrylic painting on canvas? The pressure is on to commit to a new canvas and "find my style" as my art instructor is cracking his whip!!
I'm leaning towards impressionistic heavy acrylic gel/mediums and molding pastes/mixed mediums. Mostly very thick and textured knife techniques. For those of you who are knowledgeable on the subject - please do not hesitate to offer your input on these photos as to what would work best in this desired medium. It would mean the world to me!! Even if you are not familiar with art styles please feel free to help me by choosing your favorite photo.
I'm still being pulled in the direction of combining the two mediums- photography and painting. Recently my photo lab supplier has introduced a new product - printing high quality images on high gloss metal sheets. The quality is incredible. I am in the process of ordering a few large scale images on the metal sheets and testing interference acrylics on top of the black and white stylized image to add a hint of color and texture. That process is quite pricey but will be easier for me to market and sell in the long term at trade shows under my existing company and reputation. Hopefully my clientele will be inspired and open to a new way of seeing photography.
All in all, I feel like I'm moving forward and healing from my depression and severe anxiety and social anxiety. I've managed to actually get out of the house and attend both an art class and a yoga class. I am finally starting to feel like I'm able to conquer, although, I still have my moments of "freezing up" and am still battling the panic attacks. Now if I could just get some healthy non medicated sleep so I can have the energy to chase the artistic dream at full force!!!
I'll keep you posted on what I come up with soon...happy shooting and painting friends :)
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
Look at what the light did now...
This is my photographic take on what it is like to live in the dark for soo long, and emerge to a new life... with music by Feist.
I've started pushing myself to engage more. I'm enrolled in 8 weeks of yoga and have just started painting classes in acrylics. Its been an exhausting struggle with the social anxiety, but I've managed to plug thru keeping with it! I'll post my first painting when it is complete. The yoga has helped with learning how to focus my scattered thoughts and relax and breathe properly thu the stress. Not to mention that I'm getting real strength in my core and legs!! I've now got what is affectionately refereed to as a "Spring chicken ass" and I'm digg'in it!!
The dark winter days are getting shorter and the warm weather feels encouraging. -Time to emerge from my desperate slumber and breathe and follow the light!
Thursday, January 5, 2012
Big Prairie Sky
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The evening went relatively well. I managed to enter a crowded room of other professional photographers, a daunting task in itself. I managed to speak to no one, made very little eye contact, hid in the bathroom during breaks and had a very difficult time trying to concentrate and focus, but I did learn something about myself.
I learned that I still have a passion for storytelling, be it visually or writing.
I've always wanted to be involved in the cinematic world in some fashion. My background in photojournalism has trained my eye to see the story and tell a story, but my lack of multimedia digital technical skills have been a massive hindrance. My social anxiety and diminishing self confidence has left me feeling caged up and fears of going back to school are overwhelming. My patience levels are lacking when it comes to online self taught tutorials because of my depression/inability to concentrate.
In December I traveled to a sandy beach location and had the best vacation. What made it soo great is that I finally had the energy to enjoy outside activities. Walks on the beach, photographing sunsets, riding a bike, hiking on trails and even managed to get myself on a sailboat. I felt soo alive! It was not the kind of vacation where I was sitting like a bump on a log, trying to relax to no avail. I think my meds are finally working properly, although I still suffer from sleep deprivation and anxiety - it felt great not to suffer the December blues.
My new years resolution is to purge the old and reinvent. I've decided that I'm finally going to bite the bullet and embrace the almighty and frightening technology game and upgrade to a new digital camera with multimedia/video. Eeeek!! I don't even own an iphone!! I have no idea how to upload a video clip and the learning curve is tremendous just in the purchasing phase.
I am proudly disassembling my old dusty darkroom, have a buyer in the wings and am going to sell the works.
-Adios old friend, it was a great ride but I godda go catch the techno bus, sort of speak, and explore a new form of creativity. Its the end of an era, a daunting task, and I'm sure it will be a wild ride.
There's a whole new world out there, as big as the Prairie Sky.
I got ma' neon orange floaties on, gonna jump off another diving board...1...2...3... JUMP!
Monday, October 24, 2011
A pot of dirt, perched on a pot of perch...
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| "For of all sad words of tongue or pen, The saddest are these: 'It might have been!'" - John Greenleaf Whittier |
"Closure"- or need for closure, is a popular psychology term used to describe an individual's desire for a definite cognitive closure as opposed to enduring ambiguity. It is a need usually provoked after experiencing an emotional conclusion to a traumatic life event, such as the breakdown of a close interpersonal relationship or the death of loved one.
Metal or wood? A seemingly simple quick, easy question to answer, something like what you'd hear in a grocery store- "Plastic or paper". It still rings in my mind. Of all the memories I have burned into my mind - that one escapes me. "Were your mothers ashes kept in a metal urn or a wooden box", asked the manager of the crematorium. -"Because if they were buried in a wooden box, the remains may not be recoverable".
It was an expensive, not to mention emotional journey to find the answer to that question. No amount of research could answer it - just blind luck of the draw. So took my chances. I got in my car and drove the 7,500 kms return, jumped thru all the hoops of paperwork, and red tape to have my mothers ashes exhumed from the family plot of three. Her ashes were buried with her mother and her father's ashes in a plot the size of a casket. We needed only to exhume as deep as three feet.
After all these years of angst towards my grandmother for hijacking my own mothers remains, and burying my mother years later at the eleventh hour just short of my eighteenth birthday in spite - there I stood, over their open grave, as irony would have it on my 46th birthday. My moment had finally come.
As I drove the many miles east to Montreal to accomplish this task my mind kept tempting me with thoughts of- what if's - I did actually recover her remains. What would I do then? The chances were 50/50 that I may actually recover the ashes, as I still had no idea if she was buried in a metal urn or a wooden box, the anticipation was incredibly difficult to control. I would day dream on the drive across northern Ontario of the scenic places that I'd like to stop on the way back, and ponder scattering some of her ashes here and there. Photographing the journey home with her remains in beautiful places.
Just the thought of being able to hold her remains in my hands after all these years of complete and utter abandonment was mind boggling. It was difficult not to get carried away, the chances were 50/50 that it may not happen at all and I had to keep myself focused on the other reality.
The reality was this - they dug around for two hours and could only come up with my grandfathers tagged remains. He was buried in a metal container, and it had badly deteriorated. I had his remains transferred to an updated container and had him re-buried. My mothers ashes were unrecoverable, as was my grandmothers. I decided to have dirt from the open grave put into a mini urn, so the irony is this - I am now carrying around my grandmother and my mother in the same pot of dirt!!!!
How's THAT for enduring ambiguity and a lack of closure!!! - "It might have been".....
As for the "pot of dirt, perched on a pot of perch"... I drove my mini urn, or more precisely, my pot of dirt, to my aunts house and we celebrated with a dinner of perch she caught herself. I photographed the perched pot of dirt on top of the pot full of perch and we drank wine and reminisced and joked that the old bat in the pot of dirt- (my grandmother) had to crash the party too!!!
Saturday, September 3, 2011
REDEMPTION
redemption |riˈdemp sh ən|
noun
1 the action of saving or being saved from sin, error, or evil • figurative a thing that saves someone from error or evil
2 the action of regaining or gaining possession of something in exchange for payment, or clearing a debt.
• the action of buying one's freedom.
I just found out four days ago when my mother was actually buried - yes, you did read that right! -Since I was fifteen years old, for my entire adult life, I've never known when she was interred and have only generally known the whereabouts of my mothers ashes.
When my mother passed away in 1981, there was the usual family drama, that inevitably escalated to the point that I, as a fifteen year old, on the way home from my mother's open casket visitation, had to seek legal advise. After the visitation and the casket was closed I simply asked "now what - are we heading to the cemetery?"
Apparently that was the wrong assumption, the wrong thing to say as it started WW3. It was an innocent assumption by an innocent child. I was told that, because it was January we would have to wait till the ground thawed in order to bury her ashes and it was going to be up to "the adults" as to the location. I sought legal advise because my father was divorced and had no ties and no way to represent his children in what would become an attempted hijacking of my mother's remains by my grandmother. I wanted my mothers ashes buried in Montreal where her children, and all her family and friends were - where my mother lived her whole life. My grandmother's intention at the time of my mothers death was to have her buried where my mother passed away - in Ontario.
That's the way it remained, I was intimidated and felt it was too much of a struggle to fight her and wanted to just drop the whole thing till spring when we were to revisit the task at hand of burying my mom's remains. Spring came and went and another year went buy, and another. For the sake of the children my father made contact, smoothed over the relationship and we were invited to visit with grandma. She kept my mothers remains in a bedroom, upstairs, on top of a dresser as a type of shrine.
As a child I was never allowed to go upstairs at grandma's house - not even allowed to sit at the bottom of the steps. Suddenly, at the age of sixteen/seventeen, I was almost literally being shoved up the steps by my grandmother to "visit with your mom". It creeped me out, I visited only because it was expected of me and I gradually wrangled my way out of having to go. I hated it. I resented that I was not able to visit at graveside, like most normal people, in private. I never went back.
My relationship with my grandmother was not what you'd consider normal. She was of the type of mind set that children are seen and not heard. My brother and I were made to go outside to play while the adults visited. She was never affectionate, never doted on us, never treated us like we were her grandchildren.We never did anything alone together. I've recently been told that she'd had a very difficult upbringing, abandoned by her parents and sent to live with her grandparents - who never showed any loving affection. She was sent off to work and live on her own at the age of fourteen.
The next time I saw my grandmother was just after my grandfathers funeral in 1985. My father took us to visit her in the hospital, in the psych ward. She'd gone mad, had a nervous breakdown and was found walking in her pajamas down a three lane expressway. It was the last time I saw her, in the psych ward, she was in such a state that she was unable to recognize me. She went to live with my uncle in Guelph Ontario till she passed away in the mid to late 1990's.
Little did I know that I'd had such a powerful impression on her at the time of my mothers funeral and the legal mesh we got into at the time. When I got legal advise during my mothers funeral my lawyer contacted her, she then had to seek legal advise. They must have talked her into having her will written, as it is was completed and dated within three weeks of my mother's funeral. They must have advised her at that time that the moment I turn eighteen I am legally considered next of kin and can sophena her to hand over my mothers ashes.
I just found out four days ago, some thirty years after the fact, that my mother was buried in 1983 within 9 days of my eighteenth birthday. No one was ever told, therefore no respectful ceremony was ever held. She'd kept my mothers ashes in that bedroom till the eleventh hour. I can understand that she could not let go of her daughter, I've had compassion for that- I'd come to terms with it and accepted it for what I was, but for some reason I've never been able to forget it. And now, as a result of the new findings, I find myself bitter, angry and resentful at how calculated and spiteful she was. As a result of her actions, I have no closure, I was robbed of that at a young age.
I've decided to make it happen, to seek my own closure. To give that long ugly cruel "Jerry Springer-esque story" a happy ending by having my mothers remains dis-interred. Time to show my mother the respect she's always deserved and the closure I was robbed of. Time for well deserved redemption. No more anger or resentment, time to re-write a happy ending to the story.
noun
1 the action of saving or being saved from sin, error, or evil • figurative a thing that saves someone from error or evil
2 the action of regaining or gaining possession of something in exchange for payment, or clearing a debt.
• the action of buying one's freedom.
I just found out four days ago when my mother was actually buried - yes, you did read that right! -Since I was fifteen years old, for my entire adult life, I've never known when she was interred and have only generally known the whereabouts of my mothers ashes.
When my mother passed away in 1981, there was the usual family drama, that inevitably escalated to the point that I, as a fifteen year old, on the way home from my mother's open casket visitation, had to seek legal advise. After the visitation and the casket was closed I simply asked "now what - are we heading to the cemetery?"
Apparently that was the wrong assumption, the wrong thing to say as it started WW3. It was an innocent assumption by an innocent child. I was told that, because it was January we would have to wait till the ground thawed in order to bury her ashes and it was going to be up to "the adults" as to the location. I sought legal advise because my father was divorced and had no ties and no way to represent his children in what would become an attempted hijacking of my mother's remains by my grandmother. I wanted my mothers ashes buried in Montreal where her children, and all her family and friends were - where my mother lived her whole life. My grandmother's intention at the time of my mothers death was to have her buried where my mother passed away - in Ontario.
That's the way it remained, I was intimidated and felt it was too much of a struggle to fight her and wanted to just drop the whole thing till spring when we were to revisit the task at hand of burying my mom's remains. Spring came and went and another year went buy, and another. For the sake of the children my father made contact, smoothed over the relationship and we were invited to visit with grandma. She kept my mothers remains in a bedroom, upstairs, on top of a dresser as a type of shrine.
As a child I was never allowed to go upstairs at grandma's house - not even allowed to sit at the bottom of the steps. Suddenly, at the age of sixteen/seventeen, I was almost literally being shoved up the steps by my grandmother to "visit with your mom". It creeped me out, I visited only because it was expected of me and I gradually wrangled my way out of having to go. I hated it. I resented that I was not able to visit at graveside, like most normal people, in private. I never went back.
My relationship with my grandmother was not what you'd consider normal. She was of the type of mind set that children are seen and not heard. My brother and I were made to go outside to play while the adults visited. She was never affectionate, never doted on us, never treated us like we were her grandchildren.We never did anything alone together. I've recently been told that she'd had a very difficult upbringing, abandoned by her parents and sent to live with her grandparents - who never showed any loving affection. She was sent off to work and live on her own at the age of fourteen.
The next time I saw my grandmother was just after my grandfathers funeral in 1985. My father took us to visit her in the hospital, in the psych ward. She'd gone mad, had a nervous breakdown and was found walking in her pajamas down a three lane expressway. It was the last time I saw her, in the psych ward, she was in such a state that she was unable to recognize me. She went to live with my uncle in Guelph Ontario till she passed away in the mid to late 1990's.
Little did I know that I'd had such a powerful impression on her at the time of my mothers funeral and the legal mesh we got into at the time. When I got legal advise during my mothers funeral my lawyer contacted her, she then had to seek legal advise. They must have talked her into having her will written, as it is was completed and dated within three weeks of my mother's funeral. They must have advised her at that time that the moment I turn eighteen I am legally considered next of kin and can sophena her to hand over my mothers ashes.
I just found out four days ago, some thirty years after the fact, that my mother was buried in 1983 within 9 days of my eighteenth birthday. No one was ever told, therefore no respectful ceremony was ever held. She'd kept my mothers ashes in that bedroom till the eleventh hour. I can understand that she could not let go of her daughter, I've had compassion for that- I'd come to terms with it and accepted it for what I was, but for some reason I've never been able to forget it. And now, as a result of the new findings, I find myself bitter, angry and resentful at how calculated and spiteful she was. As a result of her actions, I have no closure, I was robbed of that at a young age.
I've decided to make it happen, to seek my own closure. To give that long ugly cruel "Jerry Springer-esque story" a happy ending by having my mothers remains dis-interred. Time to show my mother the respect she's always deserved and the closure I was robbed of. Time for well deserved redemption. No more anger or resentment, time to re-write a happy ending to the story.
Sunday, August 21, 2011
It's NOT what you think - HONEST!!!!
While on a vacation in Idaho I had a bad fall, in the dark, while walking very fast to the biffy in a campground. I hit the gravel covered cement soo fast and hard that I had no time to react and barely managed to catch my fall with my hands and left knee. I lost a lot of skin and was tended to by a vacationing ER doctor almost immediately. He cleaned up my deep abrasions and highly recommended I get a tetanus shot and seek medical attention in the morning.
So off we go to the medical clinic. They compliment me on the fantastic job that the ER doctor did cleaning out my deep wounds. - (He did it all by flashlight as I was screaming and squirming in pain while he was tearing off the remaining chunks of dangling skin) I lost all the skin on my right wrist at the base of the thumb/palm, too wide to apply stitches. I was holding an object in my right hand when I fell so I also had deep cuts and missing skin on my outside finger knuckles. My left hand was almost as bad. My knee was swollen and I now have a bagel sized deep purple/brown bruise.
It seemed odd that no one offered x-rays, but I was relived that it wasn't worse. When I fell there was a cement bench within arms reach. I came very close to "chinning it" possibly resulting in some serious facial destruction and possible brain injury. I was extremely fortunate- but was in some serious pain. No one prescribed any pain meds.
Nine days after the fall I was still oozing from my abrasions and cleansing and changing my "suicide" bandages and still having to wear them in public as we were still on vacation. Even my husband mentioned that the looks I was getting from the general public was... well... disturbing!!
Once we arrived home from the States, I woke up to a very swollen right hand and could no longer feel my finger tips. In a bit of a panic I decided it was time to seek a second opinion - free of charge! So off I go to yet another medical consult!! I swear I've seen more doctors in the last year and a half than my whole entire life combined!!! At this point I'm starting to develop a complex that I've become some weird hypochondriac!
They x-ray'd my right hand and I have not broken any bones but I do have a very serious sprain. I've torn ligaments, developed a wicked case of tendonitis and damaged my carpal tunnel. I am prescribed anti inflammatory meds and immediately sent to a physiotherapist for a consult. The outcome - six weeks to heal with dedicated physio treatments. I am informed, and had to sign a contract, that I fully understand that if I do not adhere to the physio treatments prescribed to me that I will endure permanent "loss of use" to my right hand. -I had to sign the damned thing with a right hand that was "not in use"!!
I am temporarily unable to work, still unable to properly hold a fork but I am quite grateful that I can, finally, wipe my own ass... with my left hand!!! Just call me lefty - just don't ever glare at me and automatically consider me suicidal!!
Because it's NOT what you think - HONEST!!
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