THE THINGS THEY CARRIED IN THE SUMMER OF 1970 / SUMMER OF 2008

This is the sixth of the seven drawings by RTN, which were sent from Vietnam in 1970 on the front of mailed letters.

Still on dial-up and very limited in terms of internet access. Thought I would try to upload some photos. It took longer than usual, but now I know I can upload photos if I'm willing to wait the extra time.

From my Zen Calendar, the entry of a few days ago:

"And I would answer you. . . that to prepare the future is only to found the present. . . for the sole true invention is to decipher the present under its incoherent aspects and its contradictory language. . . You do not have to foresee the future, but to allow it. . .

(ANTOINE DE SAINT-EXUPERY)

The present:

THE THINGS THEY CARRIED #2

It's one of those overcast 7 a.m. Pacific Northwest June mornings that looks better in black and white than in color.






















Chapter 1, page 49, From SEVEN CHOICES, by Elizabeth Harper Neeld, PhD:

THE TERRAIN OF OUR ACTIVE GRIEVING

Life As It Was
The Event of Loss
Life and Loss Integrated
Freedom from Domination of Grief

IMPACT: Experiencing the unthinkable
CHOICE: To experience and express grief fully

SECOND CRISIS: Stumbling in the dark
CHOICE: To endure with patience

OBSERVATION: Linking past to present
CHOICE: To look honestly

THE TURN: Turning into the wind
CHOICE: To replan and change our lives to include but not be dominated by the loss

RECONSTRUCTION: Picking up the pieces
CHOICE: To take specific actions

WORKING THROUGH: Finding solid ground
CHOICE: To engage in the conflicts

INTEGRATION: Daylight
CHOICE: To make and remake choices

I just realized that I have come to the third choice and entered that process.

THE THINGS THEY CARRIED #1

After receiving the "I Love You" Series, I received seven more images, either drawn on the front side of envelopes which were addressed on the back side, or as part of handwritten letters. I believe that most of these drawings arrived in the early days of RTN's time in Vietnam. We wrote a letter to each other every day that he was gone. Ten months after he returned from Vietnam, we separated for a second and final time, remaining friends. Not long after that, I burned the approximately 335 letters he had sent from Vietnam, saving only his drawings. I knew that if I carried those letters with me, I would never go on with my life. Nevertheless, the grief that followed that separation lasted a long, long time. As hard as I tried, I never completely went on with my life. I'm still working on that, only now beginning to feel the holy ground beneath my feet again.


THE LOVING TIME

It reads like a fairytale
and that's what it was
Young man in his prime
young girl from the cross
The most perfect of strangers
and then the night closed in
and the holy ground took care of everything

Now she was a fine one
and he was a handsome man
One look was enough
and away they ran
They spend many happy hours
and then the night closed in
and the holy ground took care of everything

Oh what's the use in complaining
In for a penny in for a pound
I remember the loving time
and nothing else really counts

And I recall the promise they made
With a faith I can but admire
That she'd be the one he adored
and he'd be her hearts desire

It didn't come true in the end
they went their separate ways
He couldn't change what he was
she wasn't ready to wait
They couldn't live in the daylight
they let the night close in
and the holy ground took care of everything

I remember the loving time
and nothing else really counts

(Lyrics by Noel Brazil, sung by Mary Black -- If you'd like to listen to a clip, scroll down here)

A view of today:

Beloved Person in Bird Costume Painted from Memory / Be Loved (1993)

On December 8, 1979, nine years to the morning that my boyfriend had returned from Vietnam, I began to record in my written journal some fleeting images (several of which were of sculptures) from a series of dreams that became increasingly complex and mysterious. Of course, it is very difficult to translate dream images onto paper because dream images are elusive. The recording of the dream images led to my decision to return to college to finish my degree in English Literature with a minor in Studio Art and preceded ten years of intense creativity and growth.

In October of 1990, feeling my inspiration slipping away, I went through my written journals and copied those dream images onto four pieces of 13" x 17" watercolor paper. Many of those images appear in my paintings in the 1990s, including the "beloved person in bird costume."

































































It was on December 8, 2006, thirty-six years to the day that my boyfriend had returned from Vietnam, that I decided to create this blog, which has led to a renewed commitment to myself as an artist and writer.

Self Portrait of an Old Friend as a Young Man (1982)

This young man was drafted into the U.S. Army in the spring of 1969, went to Vietnam as a helicopter mechanic in January of 1970 and returned on December 8, 1970. Each day he was in Vietnam he wrote a letter to me, sometimes including drawings and photographs. Each day he was gone, I wrote a letter to him. In this drawing from a photograph he sent to me, I portrayed him as a man who could carry the weight of darkness and light in impossible situations. In Jungian terms, he is my animus.

Unlike the previous chalk pastel life drawings in this series, this one was done by projecting a slide onto a piece of drawing paper and tracing the image. Using that technique to produce a image was a drawing class assignment. I thought of the technique as "cheating." I can't take credit for either the drawing or the photograph from which the drawing was done, only for reproducing an image from 1970 from the war in Vietnam.

It's Christmas Eve in this season of holidays, holy days.