Connecting Artists to the Community with Education, Therapy and Fun

Oh wow, what a weekend!  It’s been one of the best weekends--- ever. OK, do the emotional part first~ it feels so good to have friends, real friends- the ones who have your back that make you both laugh and cry. Honestly, I’ve been a loner from the start and really didn’t get out much~ which is why no one heard of my art, me or from me before a few years ago. Much of the isolation was from anxiety, more notably social phobias (the fear of people). But it feels sooooo good to have these people in my life. They got my back and I got theirs. The thought of having them around to support and just be with fills me with security and serenity.

Social phobias are hard to get past and one of the many *wonderful* facets people with chronic PTSD have to face. (Yes, I have had to deal with chronic PTSD from a tragic upbringing~ you could say “dysfunctional”, but that doesn’t even begin to describe it. But back to the conversation…). Interesting that there is now a gene found in those with the disorder that makes them more likely to develop the issue later in life. It explains why two people can experience the same thing at the same time and one develop debilitating symptoms and the other be “fine”.

For those of us with chronic PTSD, the first hurdle to cross is that it is: chronic. Most things chronic fail to exist in the mind of the one who has it is because it “feels” like any other trait. We get so used to the symptoms/feelings that we fail to see it as a separate entity from ourselves and our personalities.  Just like the loneliness… it felt like part of my disposition. It crept up on me, and after a while, showed itself more as bitterness and spitefullness~ people with happy family gatherings really ticked me off and if I had to put up with hearing it from the neighbors, I resented the hell out of it and I wished that they’d shut up and keep their crap hidden. (Irritability is a hallmark of PTSD... much of my traumas came from parties gone awry.) Inside, I was actually sad about not having the happiness they had, but had been that way for so long that it didn’t register consciously, either.

How can you not know you are lonely? Its easy when you have all of the above working against you and you’ve been taught that your feelings and needs inconvenience others, so its best not to acknowledge they exist. Either way, not only is the social phobia chronic, so is the lonliness. It’s a catch 22 cycle- you can’t do the things that fix it because you can’t tell it is happening. You get worse (more lonely and bitter) because you can’t fix it. Pretty soon, it weighs on your self esteem because you feel you don’t deserve being happy because of the bitterness~ its easy to become convinced that you are a bitter person rather than a person sad and isolated because of past abuse issues. Not only that, but irritability the disorder brings may not be known about, so the sufferer beats themselves up further for feeling the way they do.

But today? Social anxiety and PTSD will NOT hold me back because- while I realize the issues that got me there  wasn’t under my control--  my decision to do something about it is under my control. Thank God for the guts to grab ahold of opportunities to heal, medicine and supportive friends who understand.

Stephanie started talking to me about what it could be like if Stephen and I had a baby. She said that the child wouldn’t want for anything with all of them around to love him or her. The more I listened to her dream out loud about how they’d be there to hold and love our (dream) baby, the more I realized I couldn’t hold back the tears of gratitude for just holding the possibility of them- Stephanie, Tina, Lisa, Charlotte and Kelli- being there. For a long moment, the possibility that I wouldn’t have to be a new mom alone meant more to me than air. 

This is our video (short because of security guards eyeballing us)

Annnnnd................. this video is the same song from a different person I found on youtube- notice the dueling guitars! I'm going to put all the Feb. 19 video on here to find same songs, different angles. Cool concept.

A private ha ha to anyone whose seen the movie about "the real girl".

Elton Duck (nicknamed Duck Vader) has a new wife! Like some odd-to-us, obscure custom from ancient times, we went out and found our Ducklett a wife. She is SO CUTE...... her name?

Padme. She quietly "woot woot woot"ed when she saw him. Hope thats a good sign. 

So, hi everyone, meet Padme:

This one really cracks me up~
I bet he saw black spots for a while ;)

I got to "honk" the guys nose in the hi-rise drum set! LOL! He poured coca cola on Robyn's, Tina's, my and Stephen's heads.

Also got to pinch this one's bicep :)

Robyn and I got #4's pick :) How cool is that?

Anyone who knows me knows I love heavy metal. All those times you had to be nice for political reasons, all those traffic jams that we get used to as part of modern life, getting there a day late and a dollar short- something what an evening of scream therapy can do. So much of modern life shoves our regular animal instincts and drives into a box of rules and regulations and protocol. The necessity to defend ourselves and fight or flight, regular social instincts and energy. We just can't do whats natural anymore~ But, there is a place for it, the mighty metal concert where ancient instinct meets present technology.
I think its par for course for an adrenaline junkie~ the bass hits you in your chest, moves your clothes even if you're standing still. Then the excitement of the beat and being in unison with thousands of others where you can lose your identity, self consciousness and gain sensation of the moment all at the same time. Runners high happens after you've been pumping fists into the air for an hour or so :) Lights blaring and changing puts you into a world where day and night mix freely.
Not to mention the competitive sport of it! Being snug against the rail is the goal~ something akin to defending a goal or blocking the opposing team. Make no mistakes, as much as I love *love* I will elbow an intruder if necessary 0:) Its a metal concert, its expected. They know it, I know it, we signed up for it... but all in the same breath, we make new friends and find humor and concensus, too. Only rarely do the elbows have to come out. You get intimate with the folks to your left and right enough to realize what kind of antiperspirant they wore- or didn't (eeeewww- in which case, defending the rail isn't such a priority).
Tina and Robyn, her little sister, got to go with Stephen and I. We're veterans, but this was their first metal concert: SLIPKNOT!!!! And we were in the PIT! Whoo hoo!
First, let me tell you a 9 member band is both loud and entertaining. Someone is always making noise and someone can take a break. But what Slipknot has learned from the footsteps of others is to look and behave larger than life by use of physical differences~ instead of the makeup like Kiss, they use masks. The masks serve a few purposes, its a transformation of self into an alter ego to express what the original ego can't. Its permission you can put on your head. Second, its an experiment in mirroring- people react to you differently with a mask on than they would with your bare face: the bare face is human and relatable, the mask is something different and something you can project more onto, much like a doll. The mirroring the crowd offers will be different- I bet a slipknot concert is a bit more aggressive than any other- except Gwar, maybe (lol).
OK, so while the music is going, we see #3 walk right next to us! We're right to the left of the stage, so he's been near us the whole concert long, but he's walking out and about... he disappeared for a while and we went back to screaming, singing and fist waving.
Then the security guard in front of us brushes us to our right. I look over and there he is again! But right next to us! I reached out and grabbed his bicep and gave it a couple of squeezes ;) Stephen told me to grab his nose when he went by, LOL!!! Part of me wanted to, but part of me didn't out of respect. It was a funny thought, tho.
So, we go back to enjoying the concert and then a weird guy in a clown mask looks at us, me, Robyn and Tina in particular and hollered at us... after I saw the video camera, it dawned on me it was CLOWN! #6, Shawn Crahan! While he reached out to grab Robyn's coke, I reached in and grabbed his nose and tweaked it twice, LOL!! I got to grab #6's nose! What a rush, ha ha...
So, he grabbed Robyn's coke and squeezed it, then poured it onto Robyn's head! Ha ha ha! I grabbed her and shoved her at him, ha ha ha, yelling Get her, its her first metal concert, get her! What an initiation. He shook the rest of the drink on me and Tina and Stephen, all of this is getting recorded, btw... hopefully it will go into some recording we can buy. I love it because Tina's x boyfriend was supposed to go with us, but he's too busy being a cheat and a liar.
Look what you missed! nanny nanny boo boo

I had the most amazing dream night before last. It started out I was in the midst of many different “people”, none of which I knew. I wasn’t me, tho, I was this round “ball” or entity~ I could see around me 360 degrees and knew from time to time what was in the heads and hearts of those around me. Who and what was around me were other entities, non-human, about 7 or so… in many different forms. They were magnificent creatures of conglomerations of other animals compiled together and children… beings manifested as children, but their souls were infact very old.

Two angels were the focal point and one in particular, the dark one, was laying on its back in what looked like slick black tar in a shallow black platform-type thing… imagine a box you get shirts in, now imagine it being a good bit larger and black. It was a “fallen” angel… and was laying down in the shallow box, with this black or dark stuff covering it. It looked like shiny, greesy, wet tar blanket over top of it. It was actually some type of blood or life force, from a creature that the “good angel” had to kill for the purpose of holding down the dark angel. (This sparked so much internal debate as I continued to observe what was going on.)

They were both of the same type and were actually kin, and I couldn’t help but wonder why and how the good angel could do what he did to the dark angel if he was, in fact, a “good” angel. The dark angel was trying to lift itself up out of the sticky tar to get away or fight and it was almost able to lift itself onto its’ wings elbows. The huge white angel was uncompassionate--- watching the struggling dark one and feeling nothing for it. It had purpose for it, but no other connection could be felt.

Instead, the light angel was taking the dark angel’s tools (chains it used in its attacks- and other weapons, literally, were its own body parts that it continued to regrow) to use as weapons against its own “side” in an upcoming war. The fighting between the two sides started out very covert—small skirmishes in places where one would expect violence~ alleys and crack house brothels. Addicts saw things, but either didn’t remember because of their stupor… questioned their own eyes/sanity or told someone and those they told just thought they were crazy. The fights erupted quickly and then died off just as fast and blended into our society as random acts of violence, like someone being killed in a home invasion or a drug dealer getting stabbed and left to die.

Some of “them” were warrior spies, sent in our homes and towns as children. Several of them around the black angel were these children warriors. We raised them, fed them, loved them and they stayed on for a while and when their jobs were done, went missing (literally… our society has accepted violence against children so much that it is not unusual to have so many vanishings. We just chalked it up to abductions never solved.) Some of these were legitimate abductions, but some of these were the covert warriors finishing their jobs and going back to where they come from. These things remained on a level that we attributed to our own tribulations, but the battle was beginning to spread to a size that couldn’t be hidden any more.   

The light angel had to keep the dark one angel alive, just for what it could offer in defense even though it was EXTREMELY dangerous- and it looked it. It was what the white angel looked like if it were dead and decaying. The difference being that the white angel had a human-ish face and the black angel had a dragon-like face, fierce and viscious. And it was pissed off. It kept trying to raise itself up on its “elbows”, but kept slipping down into the muck and then it would howl, hiss, shriek and wail. It would play dead (or very tired) and then try to slip its tongue out slowly, quietly and then lash out really long and wrap around something-  to tear off a body part (like your head) or to grab a weapon, preferably its favorite, chains. It used to be with the white angel and did its job with it, but it’d fallen because it wanted to do its own thing—causing a conflict amongst those where it was from. It wasn’t kicked out for being “evil”, but because the harm was to the purpose of why they were there.

It was obvious the white angel was a soldier by its countenance and feelings, or should I say lack of them. Even I, who was scared and knew the dark angel didn’t think enough of me to waste the time ripping me to pieces, felt for it because of its suffering, but the white angel did not. It was beautiful, majestic and terrible~ seeing it took my breath away. It was white and glowing and wasn’t solid… the wind blew sometimes so hard that it would blow me and the other creatures away (we had to hide in the rocks), but It stayed there and was separated by the wind, blurring and separating and then coming back together again. Lights were around it, on its wings, its hair, its white robe and it had a huge sword that looked like silver, but was made of something different, stronger and indestructible.

Its lack of emotions came through psychic knowing everyone had… and if you were on the list to die, it would kill you and not look back. No regrets, no second thoughts, no anger (or very little), no compassion, very little empathy. Most of this is due to the fact that it had no judgement… it never determined something to be evil so it didn’t get mad about it. It didn’t judge something to be good, it just was. Because there was no good, it seldom got what we would consider happy, but was never exactly unhappy. It didn’t have what could be called anger, but fierceness and intensity: when it fought, storms gathered and tore the landscape apart- earthquakes, tornados, hurricanes. Hence the wind we had to hide in the rock’s cracks for safety. It just deteriorated, separated and then re-assembled and kept on.

Oddly, it knew exactly what the beings were going though when it killed them- or shook buildings until they fell and died- but didn’t hurt because of it. It was as if it was above feeling, emotions weren’t part of its make-up because, besides the lack of judgement, the feelings would create conflict for it and it wouldn’t do what God needed to be done. Not like a psychopath because psychopaths want more for themselves, this being was selfless--- was a glove over the hand of God.

The dark angel started like the white angel, they were the same type of creature, having been in wars (it did the dirty work) and worked for God, but *fell* and now, in contrast, had a huge self and loved to get one over on someone else in its favor in the war. It had emotions~ RAGE, despair, and spite. It was "wild".

It took my breath away, too, it was terrible and awesome, and horrifying. I just stood there, watching~ being completely aware of how little I meant to any of these creatures. They moved around like I wasn’t there, almost stepping on me and kicking me out of the way sometimes. They knew I was basically powerless and not a threat at all, so me being there had the same effect as your neighbors pet. The “good” guys allowed me to hang around and observe, and I thought might be able to help in some way.

Me? I was a ball of existence. I saw in 360 degrees and tried to stay out of the way. Sometimes I saw the battles raging off in the distance, could see the fighting and could see the time changing and knew what the culmination would be. I hopped around on the rocks and hid, sometimes trying to touch one of them.

The other creatures were part animal and part human, children (who had very old souls). Sometimes the creatures and the animals would have to ‘switch’ spirits because some things this little girl could do inside the lion’s body and some things the lion could do by itself. Sometimes they changed so often that it was like musical spirits ;)

The creatures acknowledged me there, the children especially, because they were accustomed to being with us as one of us. I was concerned for their welfare, but it was obvious that they were much more secure and well adapted than I and I was the one who had something to fear.

I saw the battle, the figures at the right of the scene were jet black, color and lightless. The figures at the left were many and multi colored- animals, people, mixtures of the two- I met an eagle person and someone with cat claws, literally. They were fierce and intelligent. The setting had old cars not running any more, almost like a ghost town where humans resided…. But not anymore. I could tell that it was into the future many many years from now, but not exactly knowing when. People still were here, just not at this place. It was perhaps Utah… where rocks were abundant and cliff sides were pretty flat.

___________________________________________

All of that aside, I had just finished telling Stephen about the dream and we both agreed, that was one helluva dream. We went out front to walk around and I felt pretty bad- had a big dizzy spell and Stephen helped me back in the house.

Stephen walked around to the back sliding glass door and saw our dark little pet, our sweet little Chicky, laying motionless in the pond. Our light bodied pet duck was standing there by the pond looking at her. Stephen grabbed her out of the cold water and we tried to save her, but we were too late. The pond looked just like the shallow, black container in the dream.

What did the dream and reality have in common? Two winged creatures, (both bird-pets), one held down and weighted down by another's life force (the fish water) and the inability to get up. They were also "born" together and grew up together like siblings. The light winged creature may have knocked her into the water and was both unable to feel for her or get her out.

The rest of the story? Who knows. Maybe it has meaning or maybe its just an artist's fantastic imagination working at night.

If its a coincidence, its sure an odd one.

 

I don't think any of us really like awkward situations. When we can look at it as a personal challenge, something designed to strengthen us, then its viewed as a positive vehicle for growth. Oh, joy, but the other times when your butt is over a barrel.

The issue started when my computer went out and I had Christmas cards to make for a client at work. My computer is the hub of my work with Lisa Howell Photography, Art with Heart (information hand outs, creative things for the group in therapy,) organization, the paperwork for the non-profit---- you NAME IT. I love my jobs, which is why I'm a cyber work-aholic. It brings me great joy to say that....

I have WORK to do!

But computers don't care... and it went out anyway. The first time was when we got a new hard drive--- we backed everything up and it was fine, yet a pain, to get back up and running.

Then we downloaded what I thought was a virus.... had to wipe out everything and then start over fresh by reloading Windows and all the other programs necessary to sustain our work, business and creative life. Restart number two.

It continued to act bizarrely. The sound went out, the hardware wouldn't work.... the only thing that might have worked was the thumb drive~ and I say "might" because we didn't check it.

We get the computer guy over to check it.... he fixes what he can (the sound never came back!) but we decide to plug speakers into the earphone slots and just "make-do".

Stephen tries a few other things that evening to get the sound to work and BAMMO it goes out again. An argument ensues~~~~~

We get it wiped out and start over again. We load everything back onto it.... It looks like the Cosmos is against this poor woman ever getting her Christmas Cards done because just when the pc gets to a usable point- zap, it goes out again. 

I download Windows updates (since the computer hasn't been updated for a week or more now) and then-- I swear, I can't make this up, it goes out again.

But- through all of the triumph and agony, we learn something:

IT IS THE WINDOWS UPDATES THAT IS CAUSING THE ISSUES!!!!! Every time window's updates finish and prompt a reboot, the system fails and can't be brought to life even in safe mode. No getting to a screen to "system restore", either.

Its not so much the stress and pressure of having one's hopes elevated and then dashed over and over again, its what it does to those around you~ If I thought some compensation would be available, I'd go for it. Lost time, lost work, lost clients, lost reputation.

Because in the meanwhile, I was supposed to have Christmas cards created for some clients--- which couldn't be done--- and then on top of that, in the distracting hustle reloading programs, I forgot an appointment. This poor woman had to drive from Pass Christian to Ocean Springs for nothing. Man o man... Well, her Christmas Cards are on me, thats the minimum of what should be done.

I called the lady, apologized and left my number on her answering machine and I'm having to deal with the fact that she hasn't called back. And why should she? From her perspective, I look like an irresponsible, lackadaisacal hoo hah.

To my boss/friend, I had to tell her that today was the first day that everything was loaded and ready to go, but I hadn't had the chance both load programs and work on this person's orders. Ugh----  and that politically, I thought it best for her to finish her order and let me take up two other orders because this lady is flat out- and justifiably-- p*ssed off at me.

No matter how uncomfortable this makes me- and it does- she probably isn't comfortable dealing with me and that is the important issue (or else she's have called back by now). I'd rather Lisa work with her and elevate her comfort level while I work with 10 other orders. I don't know if Lisa will take me up on the offer, but it still stands.

Personally? I'd like the opportunity to reconnect with the lady and have my apology be personal, but if that won't happen- it won't happen. Maybe a card would be best? Hmmm.

Being ok with the answer even when the answer is no.

Its interesting how many things are linked together, just like the Mandala. Interestingly, Stephen asks a funny question and when I investigated it, it came down to Hildegard Von Bingen. On her birthday. Today, I study mandalas and run into.... the name Hildegard Von Bingen. I have her CD, called Vision. See picture and link below.

Hilde is a 12th century Christian Nun who had visions and was a voice for many in her time--- something that was basically unheard of back then.

She may have been the inventor of opra, was an artist, teacher, counselor, medicine woman and musician. She was an abandoned child, I believe even given away to the church as a tithe. She ended up being more of a gift than anyone could have imagined and created art, music, poetry, herbalism, medicine and spiritual literature, volume upon volume.

She'd have been called many things in our time-- ADHD, hypomanic, schizophrenic~ but above all, she was considered HOLY, maybe because she had the audacity to fly her freak flag

She should be studied in history, but no one ever hears of her, except me :) She pops up now and then and I've been given to paint her and what she might have been.

She used Mandalas~~~ so the mixture of the two may be something that can be translated into a painting.

Not feeling good. I found out Tuesday morning my Aunt Betty- my mom's closest living sister- is in the hospital and the prognosis looks bleak. She gets a little better and then bleak again. This is how it looks at the end, much uncertainty, stress, tension, pain and worry.

I'm sad about this for alot of reasons, sad for my Mom and how hard it must be to see all her loved ones travel down this path and then have to do the math from her own age... and the fears that arise from that, not to mention losing someone so close and so much like her. She has one other sister who is older than this one, but it would be hard no matter how many were there.

I'm sad for Kathy, Grace, Denis and Shelly. Kathy is Aunt Betty's daughter and caretaker of most of her life who is having to face a life without her mother in it~ just that thought hits me right in the sternum. She's dealing with the stress of having to pull together people bearing multigenerational dysfunction and then holding it together to say goodbye to her Mom. Some people are made of stronger substance than I, and she's one of them.

In my family, the end of life brings so much misplaced grief (into other emotions) that feuds are fueled for 25 years and more. Something happens in the stresses during the last hours of a loved one that anything negative can be intensified to a pinpoint, like the beam of burning light from a magnifying glass. Its so easy to forget compassion when there is in that much pain.

Some people get burned, some never recover. Others, like me, just stay out of it and shake their heads and wish something could be different. Every now and then, I might throw a major conniption and everyone scatters, but its not often. But this time, I hope a different light hits us and I pray for our wellbeing~ I wish peace on the whole situation.

But how am I? Been feeling the weight. Mom likes to talk about old times, which resembles young Michael Myers childhood in the beginning of Rob Zombie's version of the movie Halloween- And she's wondering whats the matter with people here and there and then in the same breath relate how awful all their husbands (my dad included) were- I'd say I'm all right considering. Acknowledge, let go, move on and be in the present.

I listen to my Mom to support her, but the lid is going to have to go back on that garbage can because it effects my life in negative ways, even though she doesn't mean for it to. I have to take the liberties now as an adult that I didn't have as a child. Gladly.

Although this brings back really bad memories for me, I'm ok. I'm not living in a horror movie anymore. But I am angry about the ignorance that helps parents make their children live in states of unescapable stress, so much so that I am moved to educate those who might not know.

Although brains are pretty plastic and moldable, its true that chronic stress causes brain damage- or at least brain differences. Amygdalas and prefrontal cortexes of stressed children are different than that of well adjusted households- our emotions, memory areas, planning, attention regulators, and executive function skills are effected. Its a fact of life. We tend to be right brained and forgetful... but how about how it compounds being alienated and how that compounds stress? What does that do for one's self esteem? Thats another blog for a later date.

Well adjustment can come in many forms. I'm on medication to compensate for what I wasn't given earlier stages of life. I'll probably stay medicated for the rest of my life- and I'm ok with that, too. Some of us have to, whatever helps you to have a full, productive and healthy life.

So, before we smack our partners, allow ourselves to get smacked or be screamed at in front of the kids, before we ourselves scream at the top of our lungs, threaten physical harm to them or anyone else or tell your children bad things about their other parents, themselves, siblings, bills, accidents, injuries or pets- please consider how little they understand and how the stress effects their developing systems. Wars, hurricanes and 9-11's we can't control, but we can control the tv's. Lets try.

We are telling them how the world is. Either they will have the tools to deal with it- and we tell them they are good enough or they aren't, the choice is ours.

I'm going to do a show and talk on trauma, self esteem and the developing brain someday.

So, in my own family I'm withdrawing for a while. Some in the family and surrounding areas will think this is selfish, but it is sometimes necessary for health. Ya can't please everybody.