BOY WITH AMARYLLIS AND ORION

It was in February of 2008, when Richard was in his fifth month in the stroke rehabilitation unit of the V.A. hospital in Palo Alto, that I had the healing dream that inspired the last poem in my book of art and poetry. Today something told me to finish up with the preview of my book.

There are four pages of art and poetry that follow these two pages and then the catalogue of art work at the back of the book and an "about the artist/poet" page.

The black and white images in my book that I drew on my iBookG4 screen using the trackpad and the Appleworks6 "Painting" program were drawn in January of 2008 with Richard in mind.

The poem was written on Good Friday, two years before Richard died. Richard stopped breathing on Good Friday of 2008 but was resuscitated and lived one more month before a brain tumor ended his life.

BEFORE, DURING, AND AFTER THE WAR

Now I know, at least a little bit, why I am so resistant to drawing and painting. Once I start, I find it difficult to stop.

This morning, when I woke up at 4 a.m. which has been my chosen waking time recently, it occurred to me that, as with my yoga practice and my blog/writing practice, if I don't make time in the morning to draw, the chances of doing a daily drawing practice diminish as the day progresses. So, a complication arises. I want to do yoga, writing and drawing, but once I start drawing I don't want to stop to do writing and yoga. Actually, it's not that I don't want to do writing and yoga, it's that I need to figure out how to stop drawing in time to do writing and yoga before I enter the responsibilities of the day.

My drawing today is based on a recurring dream that was dreamed once again last night just after I first fell asleep. Ever since sometime in 1970, when my boyfriend was in Vietnam and I was living in my parents' home, I have had a recurring dream that has taken many forms over the years. In the original dream, I was startled awake by a Viet Cong who was lunging towards me, trying to kill me. It took a few seconds for me to realize that I was dreaming because the vision of someone beside my bed was so vivid. My heart was beating in that frightened way that sounds as if everyone in the house can hear it. It took some time before I was able to return to sleep. I was afraid that my boyfriend had died in Vietnam.

It was only in the first dream that the person was a Viet Cong. In the recurring dreams, the shadowy figure by my bed has taken many forms, usually as a man, but also as an unidentifiable woman, as my mother, as my father, as a quiet curious child I don't know, as a dog, as a wolf, as a fox, as a cat. Usually the figure is threatening my life, but occasionally it has not been threatening. On the occasions when the figure is not threatening, I still wonder what it is doing in my bedroom. Always there is the loud racing heartbeat. Over the years, the fear became mixed with anger at the dream appearance of someone uninvited, no matter now benign they might be.

At one time I had hoped that I would never have this dream again, believing that when I stopped having the dream it would mean that something in my psyche was healed, but gradually I came to see this dream as an unusual gift. I am struck by the fact that it occurred again on the night before I planned to start drawing again and that this time there were two people, a man and a woman.

Although the dream was of the frightening kind, when I tried to draw it a shift occurred, and it became "Before, During And After The War."

Now it's almost 7 a.m. The sun won't rise this morning until nearly 8:30. Time to do my yoga practice. Not sure how I will be able to do yoga, writing and drawing once I start my 8 a.m. classes in January, but anything is possible.

Thanks to everyone who encouraged me to draw something today!

The photo below was taken through my living room window on a cold clear morning before sunrise a few days ago.






















A Lifeline Home

and

wood s lot.

REMINDER TO MYSELF ABOUT DRAWING

When I was in high school in the mid 1960s, I read the following quote by Cennino Cennini and began to draw something every day for a long time after that:

"Do not fail to draw something every day, for no matter how
little it is, it will be well worth while, and it will do you a
world of good." (Cennino Cennini, 1370-1440)

This morning, while stopping by Whiskey River, I discovered Resonant Enigma whose heading reads:

"We talk far too much. We should talk less and draw more. I personally should like to renounce speech altogether and, like organic Nature, communicate everything I have to say in sketches." (Johann Wolfgang von Goethe)

I would like to have a daily practice of drawing as well as writing. In the past, I did all my writing by hand. Now I do most of my writing on an electronic keyboard. When I was writing by hand, it occurred to me that making marks on a piece of paper in the form of letters satisfied something of my need to be drawing. I am wondering if typing on an electronic keyboard somehow fulfills part of my need to draw. There is something I enjoy immensely about making meaningful marks on electronic "paper," but it is not the same as holding a pencil and drawing on paper.

Recently I've been stopping by Bird By Bird who regularly posts her wonderful drawings of birds. Looking at her drawings, as well as those of Resonant Enigma, inspires me to want to draw on paper again.

The above image, "Family Traveling At Night," was drawn by Old Girl Of The North Country in 2005, using my index finger as a "pencil" on my iBookG4 track pad and the Appleworks6 "Painting" function.

It's time for me to draw something every day again, either on my computer or on paper. Why do I have so much resistance to doing something I love to do?

Face Fear (2006)

Hand True (2006)

Hand true
who
paints
thy self

The haiku-like poems I wrote and used in this short series of Appleworks6 "paintings" are what have been coined "stodolas," after the creator of this form, Scott Stodola. Scroll down here to the 18th and 19th poems for a sampling of his poetry, which in this sampling was published in paragraph form, although the true poems were not in that form. In a "stodola," the first line has two syllables, the second line has one syllable and rhymes with the first line, the third line has one syllable, and the fourth line has two syllables.

Bruised Wing (2006)

Today, tomorrow and the next day are images created using the Appleworks6 Painting program. I wasn't quite ready to paint again, but I was ready to use color instead of black and white.

I've been enjoying this.

Black and White Series: Reunion Dream (2005)

Black and White Series: Independent Child / His First Word Was Light (2005)

Black and White Series: Morning (2005)

Black and White Series: A Child With Questions (2005)

Black and White Series: Family Travelling At Night Again (2005)

Black and White Series: Ocean Family At Night (2005)

Black and White Series: Family Travelling at NIght (2005)

Yesterday I realized that the recent images that I had labeled as being from 2006 were from 2005, the year that I worked at home full-time as a medical transcriptionist for a national transcription company which is based in Illinois. I remember now that having little time for art work made me prioritize my time so that art work would be possible.

Working for the national transcription company I chose to work for was financially demoralizing, although I thoroughly enjoyed doing transcription at home. After having been a transcriptionist since 1984, it was a shock to find that I was unable to make more than minimum wage when paid by the line. I had chosen that particular company to work for because they advertised that they paid incentive for quality. After a few months of doing quality work for them, they changed their policy so that high quality work would no long result in incentive pay. I was among the more productive transcriptionists in my group and was making less than a third of what I had been making in 2003.

In August of 2005, an old friend died, and in October of 2005, I received a deeply disturbing letter, which triggered an episode of post-traumatic stress disorder which led to a relapse of compulsive overeating, although not a return to bulimia. After Thanksgiving in November of 2005, I started eating refined sugar and chocolate, something I had not done since 1987. As a result of eating massive amounts of sugar and chocolate, I developed ocular rosacea, a condition in which the skin next to my eyes became acutely inflamed, and the whites of my eyes became red and irritated from rubbing against the irritated skin next to my eyes. I was eating sugar and chocolate instead of eating the nutritious food I usually eat, and I gained about 8 pounds. I went to my doctor, who notified my employer that I needed time off work. My eyes began to return to normal with the help of medication and with refraining from eating sugar and chocolate. After discussing the exploitive work situation with the doctor's nurse practitioner, I made a decision to resign from the meagerly paid medical transcription position in order to regain my emotional equilibrium.

In 2005, I had created 21 images, but in 2006, I created only 7. My sense of well-being returned very slowly.

Black and White Series: Child With Gift (2005)

In 1988, in the Calendar series, I painted similar landscapes:













































In this part of the Black and White series, the image of a young family consisting of a mother, a father and a child entered the black and white landscape.

The "preview" function on Blogger is still not working. Hope this comes out right the first time!

Black and White Series: Solitary Angel (2005)

My mother and my mother's mother:

Black and White Series: I am/Self-Portrait (2005)

When I look at this image, this song plays in my mind

Black and White Series: Two Angels With Red River Valley (2005)

Just now I went back and added the words "Black and White Series" to the recently posted images that were created in 2005 using the Appleworks6 Painting program.

These images were the first signs of the return of my creative life after 10 years of what had appeared to me to be unending grief and loss, during which time I lost all desire to draw or paint. As my creativity returned, it came in the form of black and white images made using a computer trackpad. I liked that I could make images that looked like linocuts or woodcuts.

Black and White Series: Angry 14-Year-Old Girl (2005)

Black and White Series: Sunrise Seen From The Ocean (2005)

Between 1966 and 1973, from the time I was 17 until I was 23, I spent as much time as possible exploring the San Mateo County beaches and bluffs.

Black and White Series: Baby Bird (2005)

Today is my 20th birthday of recovery from eating disorders.

Babybird
The Wallflowers