The Beginning of the Lying Pages

Sunday January 17, 2010

I am sitting at the Metreon Mall in a Taco/Burrito 'restaurant'. Across from me is sitting a man eating. He is blatantly lying to the person he is on the phone with (girlfriend?????). He is telling the person on the phone that he is at an Oakland mall. He even goes so far to describe it specifically, "across the street from the Mens Warehouse". I know he is lying because we are both in downtown San Francisco. I want to go over to him after he gets off of the phone and ask him why he lied. What is his reasoning? What is his motivation? But it is none of my business. It is upsetting to witness someone lying.

Orange Love

Yesterday I went to Judi's studio for my weekly Sunday session. Ellen picked me up and we shared some horrific stories and laughed like hell out of the ridiculous situations we are sometimes presented with in life. We met Nancy in the parking lot and we all trudged up the stairs of the Macaroni Factory to Judi's live/work space.

We all know that we are there to work. It is a serious business doing artwork and every week I am reminded of how blessed I am to have this opportunity to share this creative space with such wonderful women. We shared some stories of the week and then got down to the business of making art. The creative wheels were lubricated by strong black coffee, ginger snaps and homemade croutons to snack on.

I am continuing on something that I have started in my Artistic Identity class. Robbyn had us sculpt our family of origins in clay. It was a powerful and emotionally charged exercise for most of us. It is great that our class is small, which allows us time to explore and go deep with each critique. After the initial sculpture we were to take that idea home and create a family of origins piece of artwork that represented what our family would look like if it were healed of all the dysfunction that we grew up with. I did my healed family of origin out of cloth and stuffed small shapeless figures to represent different family members. I was struck with how difficult it was to imagine my family in a healed state. It bothered me how much resistance I had about it. What is that about???? I've had over twenty years of therapy (seriously, I have), shouldn't I be farther along than that????? I was bothered by my resistance and the lack of direction that I felt in making the finished piece. But I was also curious about my blocks around it. In fact, it was kind of fascinating to me, like discovering this new aspect of myself that I didn't know about.

So, it was with all this in mind that I decided to work with the piece in Judi's class. I at least needed to have some sense of completion with this piece even if it were to be something that I came back and work with again. I wanted to stay working with fabric and I had lots of 'fat quarters' at home to use. I also found a pattern on the internet that I wanted to work with for these cute stuffed birds. The birds would represent myself and my family members and they would be somehow placed in a 'tree' which would be made out of dried branches.

This is the point I was at when I stopped to talk to Judi. I had brought in some branches and was showing them to her with the birds. After talking to her for a few minutes I realized that I had neglected to tell her all the background information!! So, I told her about the assignment and all my feelings about it. It was kinds amazing to share that kind of personal information with another human being. It was like reaching deep into myself, pulling up a glob of emotion and then talking about it. I turned it over for us to see all the different aspects and sides. I didn't hide anything. Afterwards Judi was better informed and she could help me with forming a direction to go in since I felt like I was completely out of my element with no road map and just putting one foot in front of the other. I also felt very vulnerable having just gone through this process of deeply digging around in my psyche and then sharing it with another human being and also acknowledging it to myself. As I turned back to work Judi asked the room if anyone wanted toast with jam. I piped up that I would have some. I looked over a few minutes later and she was making the toast and buttering some of it. I was waiting for the 'it's ready!' call. Instead, I turned around and she was standing there before me holding a plate of toasted french bread thickly layered with apricot jam. She stood there looking down at the plate telling me how the jam was from Italy and really good and that it didn't have any added sugar. To be honest, I was completely stunned by this small gesture of being delivered this plate of orange love. I am always the one who is nurturing others and delivering savory tidbits to people to please and soothe them. It was an amazing gift to be on the receiving end of this small token of nurturance. She gave me the gift of receiving my story and my process and then she gave me orange love.

Family of Origins exercise

Bill B. snoozing on my floor and Miss Ebba

I am just now realizing that I am a little obsessed with dogs. Probably because I want one of my own so badly. What keeps me from having one? Busy-hectic-crazy schedule; dogs, like kids need things to be stable and consistent. On a deeper level, I am hesitant to get my heart broken again. Is it possible I am still recovering from losing (besides other things) Sabrina and Tiger??

The two redheads I used to call them. Sabrina, a golden retriever that I shared with my Mom and Tiger, my (then) partner's orange tabby. Damn, I loved that cat. He died right before Sabrina. Tiger was always trying to make friends with Sabrina but she wasn't having it. In her mind she thought, "who the hell brought this damn CAT into the house?". Can't say that I blame her.

Why the sudden animal reflection? Three things, watching Avatatar last nite (another separate post), the Family of Origins exercise in my Artistic Identity class and this cute guy I've been dating lost his dog just a month ago.

The Family of Origins exercise was surprisingly hard. After 20+ years of therapy it is still a sore spot. As I did the meditation, traveling back thru time to when I was a little girl with my parents, it was all amazingly fresh and vivid. Certain scenarios are etched all too clearly in my mind. One of the most graphic; sitting in the kitchen at our small round table. The three of us, Mom, Dad and myself are supposed to be having a 'family' dinner together (??????). It is dinner time, and my Dad who no longer works, has made dinner while drinking all day (from the time he has gotten up). Mom has returned home from work. I've been home since school let out in the afternoon. The three of us are at the table, Dad is very drunk and ranting and raving at Mom. Mom is drunk + tranquilizers. I am sitting there...kinda watching it all.

During the meditation I am in two places; I am myself as a child and I am my adult self watching the whole thing. I am aware that my parents are oblivious to my presence. How long did I stay there pretending to be their daughter? I was not their daughter... I was no one. Which in a strange way was very very good. Because it left me the freedom to invent myself. But for years and years I was lost and searching; thru my teens, my twenties and even into my thirties. I feel like only now, at the age of 44, am I starting to get a clue as to who I am and actually having a small amount of self acceptance.

As I left my Mom and Dad at the kitchen table, locked into their twisted dynamics with each other, I wandered thru my childhood house. I walked thru the hallway and found Sasha!! My beloved black labador who was my childhood companion and stable source of love, encouragement and stability. We immediately went into the backyard to play and left my parents to their own sickness.

Both Bill B. and Ebba are regular sources of joy in my life. I see Bill B. every time I go to work. Our R.N. nurse brings him to work every day and he offers love and wonderful stress relief to staff and clients alike. He also kinda snorts like a pig which is seriously cute. When I first met Bill B. at 4 months old I immediately felt and 'saw' his huge open heart. It kinda floored me to encounter another creature that was that loving and open. He is still that open and loving, just a little more macho about it now that he's a 'big dog'.

Ebba is just a little angel puff. When I first met her she was small enough to fit on the dashboard of her owners car. She then grew a little and became quite delightfully (to me) wild and mischeivious. It was a little much for her owners but if they had just given her to ME.......I took care of her for a couple of months during her wild phase while her owners were away and yes, she was a handful but also VERY smart and easy to train if you were consistent. Whenever I see her now she does the same thing that she used to do as a puppy with me; she stands on her hind legs with her front legs on one of my legs while I'm sitting down so I can pet her and kiss on her.

Some day I'll have my own.

Looking back over the 3 mandalas it is obvious to me that this is the one I did before going to sleep. Even though I was in bed and ready for sleep my mind was still going a mile a minute. I was thinking, thinking, thinking......

The intellectual aspect of this mandala is very obvious to me. This style of art work is not usually what I'm drawn to just because of the heavy intellectual component. But it was also very interesting to see how my mind can make up images depending on my state of mind.

It was easier than I thought it would be to wake up at 3:30 a.m. to do this mandala. I was very surprised as to the image that came out. Even though I was technically 'awake' it became very clear to me that some other part of my consciousness was operating. My waking mind was just the vehicle for whatever was going on.

I remember mostly waking up and feeling grateful as I made this mandala. Grateful to be at JFKU, grateful to be in this class, grateful to be back after the Thanksgiving break. And I remembered feeling the same feeling I had after the 3 week summer break; a great relief to be back in school. It is some kind of anchor for me; some kind of validation for a reality that is so hard to find in my everyday world. Again and again I remind myself that I need to cultivate that in my life more. I think that I am not sure how to sometimes.

Before leaving class last nite I talked to Robbyn about doing my mandalas and she affirmed that it would be a good nite to do it since it was a full moon. It was so nice to talk to Robbyn and have this understanding about the full moon without having to go into explanations or justifications. We have a shared knowledge about the moon being full and the significance of that. It is almost like speaking another language or being in a secret club. I realize that I hunger for that kind of reality more than I let on to myself.

3 Mandalas

As I woke up, I resisted the temptation to grab a cup of coffee before I did my waking mandala. I wanted to stay with my state of mind as much as possible. I knew that if I even got out of bed and started my morning routine that it would influence my mandala. This was not about routine. This was about the mind just waking and I was curious and I wanted to find out what it was about.

I was surprised at how easily I fell into making my mandala and how easily I became unconcerned by the concept of time. I am usually racing with time in the morning, but today I took just a few moments to be present with this process. An image of water with strong quiet waves filled my mind. I realized that my mind had 'settled' with the sleep that I had had. And the flurry of activity at 3:30 a.m. had subsided. It was a tangible example of what sleep does to my mind, for my mind and therefore for my body as well. It was a reminder of what an important tool it is. It was also great investigating the different times and the mood that each held. The first waking mood was calm, peaceful, recharged and open.

SACRED SPACES/SACRED CORNERS

For as long as I can remember I have collected things. There were the usual seashells from Ocean Beach along with polished beach glass and black stones that looked much prettier when they were wet from the ocean water.

As I got a little older I graduated to forest like things; gold and red maple leaves that littered the ground in GG Park, twigs with green moss growing on them, more rocks, feathers and of course flowers.

Still maturing, I started to boldly incorporate small plastic toys, brightly colored anything, broken glass, found objects, junk store finds, and lace that someone else's grandmother made.

For years I did this. Not knowing what compelled me to pick up some shiny object from the street that everyone else easily passed by. Once I found a great treasure; a wooden box and in it a notebook that was half burned. The spiral binding was still intact. It stayed in the corner of my room for a couple of years. Someone else's dreams-memories-confessions half burned away waiting to be either disposed of or made into art. I finally did throw it away and wondered why I had kept it for so long......

Now I collect more than ever; a friends heart shaped doggie treats, a broken skull and cross earring that's been run over several times, bright orange crepe paper that the thanksgiving flowers were wrapped in, old poetry books, magazines....the list is endless. I collect now with a fervor and intention that was lacking earlier. Now everything that I am drawn to has some small spark of meaning, some small intention as it whispers for me to pick it up. Now everything has the possibility of something more than just itself for now it will be mixed, combined and married to some other finds.

This process has me picking up small miracles as I go along in my day. Little tidbits left by the Divine Mother for me to contemplate and play with; little clues to the mystery that is an almost invisible undercurrent that is constantly flowing around us.