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August 28, 2017

8/28/2017

August 28, 2017
It’s a launch!
School year #23 at Parker begins today and I couldn’t be happier. There is nothing like the optimism and sense of possibility when school begins. Spotless shiny floors, new bulletin boards, new supplies unpacked, brushes washed and conditioned...brings energy and a sense of a new start that everyone should have in any career. Reset the start button, batteries recharged, begin! The enthusiasm between colleagues is infectious, and there aren’t enough hours in a day, again. No naps! More espresso, please!

Except, I really hope to find at least half of one hour a day to do something artistic for my mind and spirit. Over the weekend I had a wee bit of an emo funk (ok, maybe a bit more than wee bit.) Attribute it to my current obnoxious pain levels, prednisone, the two atb’s I’m gagging down twice a day, even “just” hormones. Whatever it was, I felt sad and could only see the negatives in my life. Hate when this hat appears. Nothing overwhelming, just a baseline of less than thrilled with the current lot. Cognitively I know better and can see it with my own eyes (one look at Kizzy usually erases any thoughts of unappreciation) but when the rabbit hole opens and I get my ankle stuck, it can be challenging to just keep walking, And my legs and ankles and feet were really hurting! Walking might not be the best comparison!

So, I took out a new sketchbook and sat in the sun and made a rather uninspired page spread. I watched the bumble bees pop from weed to weed in my garden., There are so many bumble bees here! I drew simple contours of tangled weeds, and then painted them in, with very limited artistic goals. As I drew, I felt better. More grounded, less consumed by conflict, less present in my daily struggles. Sure, Toby was on his run in the yard with me and got blind-marooned multiple times and needed me to go get him and redirect him to where I was sitting, but generally I had a little block of time that made me feel better. Better than any pill the docs want to add to the RA regimen.

And it really doesn’t take long. While I love stitching and will always consider my needle my best pen, the satisfaction of “just” drawing is something I can not forget.

As I sit in meetings today, which feel like tight reins on a galloping horse, I will have my sketchbook handy and just...be. Cheers.

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August 24, 2017

8/24/2017

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The Last Day of Summer Vacation. Starting Monday, my time is owned by RPS and I will be back in the grind. Happily, don't think this is a complaint! Most of me looks forward to it with enthusiasm for all the great things that will happen, but there is a part of me that mourns for the lengthy morning start ups and extended time with my ElderHostel Posse. Of all the "Important" things I've gotten done this summer, just hanging out with my elderly kids has been one of the finest. From Boncuk sitting on my shoulder grooming my hair and wanting kissies on the top of his head to helping Toby slowly navigate the stairs and stay upstairs in bed as late as he wanted to, it's been a pleasure to just be around for them. I am lucky to have such an adorable, lovable little family of fur and feathers. During the school year we all suffer at the hands of increased pain and exhaustion due to My Partner Arthur-itis.

Unhappy 15th Anniversary this week to Arthur officially joining my world! In retrospect I had problems before the gob-stopping onset during the last week of August when I was 34, but the really debilitating event that led to a diagnosis reared up then. I'd had a great summer -- that included a trip to London on my own with miles upon miles of walking. Within days of returning, something went wrong and both ankles swelled up with a bumpy rash all over my legs. Erythema Nodosum, they called it. They put me on ibuprofen for pain which caused bleeding and both ankles and feet turned into a bruised mess. It was brutally painful to stand and walk. I had air casts on both ankles as I started the new school year, getting up on ladders to do bulletin boards and feeling so unsteady. I remember coming home from the first doctor's appointment going up the hilly walkway and flight of stairs to my apartment on my bum rather than walk due to pain. Both ankles not very weight bearing. Think Christina's World (kidding, I know it isn't that bad, but the pose felt similar.) It was a horror show. How do you use crutches when you can't put weight on either foot? That recommendation always made me curious. My then husband was in Turkey with his family, so I was really on my own. Me and my two cats in a small upstairs apartment. So grateful they were there!

Then there was the referral to a rheumatologist, who tried out a variety of nsaids to curb pain but not treat any underlying disease. Finally when the problem stuck around long enough he tried the Devil's TicTac diagnostic method - Prednisone - and it cleared up within days. I felt like my old self again and got a much needed reprieve. Since the prednisone was not considered a reasonable long term treatment, this rheumatologist took me off it, put me on a very weak (and ineffective for me) RA drug called plaquenil, and said "to see a psychologist to deal with the effects of pain." I kid you not. I was horrified. He also didn't even tell me my diagnosis, instead my primary care doc did accidentally in a phone call. The rheumy then said "I didn't want to tell you as you are so young." WTH. I did my own research, and found a new rheumy, who immediately put me on a barrage of drugs. I still see her and we are doing our best to keep this mess under control. Seeing as the stats show that 50% of all RA peeps have to stop work within 10 years because of the pain and disease progression, I feel like I am winning. At least I tell myself that on bad days.

Amazing how pain tolerance changes over time. Over the past fifteen years what was debilitating pain has become almost a baseline. The sharp jabs and overall body ache that would put most people to bed has become the norm, almost forgettable when I am properly distracted. The fatigue is a different story, as when my battery drains there isn’t much I can do about it except rest and often sleep for a cycle or two. Arthur has its own rules. No, it isn’t cancer or a terminal disease. But it is a life changing horror of its own, often invisible, even to me. There are times where I get so angry at my own inability to keep up with what I have to do, to be thinner, to have energy. Then I realize that my body is devoting a lot of energy to hurting itself and this is normal, despite and because of medication, that has its own set of accompanying side effects. The extra weight that seems to come and go of its own volition is ugly and frustrating, and often I see it as a personal weakness than part of the disease, which it often is due to necessary prednisone use.

It is a car off the racetrack, a cow out of the barn. And it is physical, not mental, though mental strategies can help deal with the symptoms. Settling in to stitch, draw, and lose myself in an art process can really help. This is the gem I’ve come away with over the last fifteen ugly years, and I am hoping that through my teaching I can share this magic with others, whether they are in physical pain or not.

I hate to rant about Arthur on this page so much but feel it is part of me and my process. My production is low because of him, despite my active mind that wants to create so many more things. His is the context in which I have to live, work, and create. I have to accept his limitations, his attacks, his conditions, his schedule. I do not dwell on this scourge in my active daily life but when I get here to blog, it tends to come out. I leave it here to bear witness of sorts to the reality, I guess. I sit down to write and all this just pours out, a glimpse into what it is like to live with this icky thing. I know others have it much worse, and I hate to whine. But, this is my silly blog, and no one really needs to read it. Maybe if I make it concrete here I can ignore it the rest of the time,

So Unhappy Anniversary, Arthur. I thank you though for helping me see what is and isn’t important in my world, and teaching me about patience and resilience. And not being so severe that I am in a wheelchair, as could have happened. Whatever lies ahead, I am sure you will be my thoughtless companion for the ride. As long as I have my art, my pain meds, and my little fur and feather friends that keep teaching me what it means to be alive without all the mental effects of physical conditions, I’ll be okay, though. And the creative and wonderful kids I am fortunate enough to work with, come next Wednesday. Cheers!

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August 17, 2017

8/17/2017

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This summer is drawing to a close, and I have to say it has been almost completely wonderful. There's been plenty of time to get things done, important and creative things, and to rest enough to feel like a human with an illness rather than a walking illness trying to appear human. And it isn't over yet.

I say almost wonderful because my Temple Street family has suffered the greatest of losses with the youngest pup of our Maltese gang passing away rather suddenly last Monday. There was never a funnier, sassier, and more precious pup. Her tiny stature betrayed her gargantuan personality and words can't describe the hole left by her passing. I was with her owner when we all first met, and considered this little one to be a "God-dog" of mine. We took her to training class together, walked together, and shared countless snuggles, funny stories, and sits in the garden. The pain her mom must be feeling is really hard to contemplate. This unhappy ending comes to all dog parents, but this was too soon, too sudden, and the loss too great. Rest in peace, our little one. You brought the world so much laughter, love, and joy. May we snuggle and laugh together again someday. You very precious, very little, girl.

You just never know what each day might bring. This is an awareness that is personally underlined as I hit the big 5-0 next month. Every day forward is a day closer to the end. Optimistic, aren't I? In a way, yes. It is a very freeing mindset to realize how temporary everything really is. Everything. Pretty soon the hubub of work will be overwhelming and every day will be filled with 27 hours of things to do again, and all body parts will be screaming, the brain will be fogging, and I will be craving rest and shoes that don't hurt. But there will be laughter and great art with amazingly perceptive and creative kids, and intellectual and logistical challenges that keep the machine moving forward. I wish I could bottle leg rest for the journey ahead!

Yesterday I tried photographing some smaller artworks with limited success. Might need to take the setup outside today and use indirect light instead of interior lamps. I am determined to get my smaller works online before going back to school so that I can concentrate fully on producing another large piece. I have one started and the embellishment step is really exciting! Also, I gave the Pfaff a whirl embroidering a quickly digitized image and it worked like a charm. Dare I say after ten years the machine might actually work now? There is hope! So much to do, so little time. My usual refrain, made even more meaningful this summer. Cheerio.

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August 11, 2017

8/11/2017

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Page update! My website now has an "Available Classes" section featuring descriptions of classes I can teach to individuals and small groups. More images and info to be added soon. Check it out here!

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August 9, 2017

8/9/2017

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As I sit in my writing seat, with an almost fifty year old’s body aching all over with an ever growing list of physical unpleasantries, I can not really hear the birds chatter this morning. Or anything else, as this fifty year old arse stood in the front row at the Paradise Rock Club last night. My ears are blown, and very likely my phone mic is too. It was a great concert by the core duo of the group Bauhaus. I am not ashamed to say I lived for their music in the 80’s and am not sure I would have ended up being an artist if it wasn’t for the aesthetic explorations that the band inspired. When I was about sixteen I saw this trio as Tones on Tail, and within the week had acquired my first bass guitar. I have vivid memories of sitting in the backseat of my friend’s car as we excitedly drove into the show at the Channel in Boston, all those years ago. And can even remember parts of the concert and what the band wore, this many years later. So monumentally inspiring.

The bass I got that week was a big, clunky wood tone Fender Squire, later to be replaced by a more gently shaped Fender Jazz, which I still have. It was autographed by Bauhaus bass player David J in the late 80’s and remains a personal treasure. I remember hauling the heavy Squire bass into my parent’s living room (where the stereo was located) and putting on Tones on Tail’s album POP, and playing the simple song “Happiness” over and over until I had it down. My poor parents! God they were so tolerant of my musical phase. My dad affectionately called my musical dirges and experiments up in my room “The Concert,” but in retrospect I know it was anything but. Bless them and their patience.

The amazing part was that I could actually do it. Create sound. It felt visual -- I could “see” the heavy basslines as they wove and contorted with the other instruments. As I practiced my hands got more used to the instrument and while I was NEVER a very GOOD bass player, I could pull off enough to make original music. We all could. It was the 80’s. It was about ART. It was about coaxing sounds from your instrument that made your music different from everyone else's -- distortion, flange, delay pedals on a bass...really? YES. I recently read an article about Daniel Ash (the guitarist that played last night) and learned that he was not a “trained” musician himself, that he built his unique style from the ground up, learning and growing as he went. Discovering completely original sounds on his guitars and writing with them. Creativity at its finest.

Last night was classic emotional time travel. As soon as the band hit the stage I was slapped with the thought -- “They look so..so...OLD!” followed quickly by the thought of my own age. But I am still that sixteen year old kid, aren’t I? As the opening slow and jazzy drum beats of “Happiness” started to roll, I went back in time to my living room, holding the fragrantly overly polished guitar in my unaccustomed hands, feeling the notes vibrate down the heavy, rope-like strings. Wait...is it 1983 again? 85? 91? That’s about when this group stopped touring. Until last night.

I think back to that kid who at sixteen had no idea of what was to come out of this thing called life, yet in my head and heart I knew that art mattered. I had no plans for college, for teaching, for anything, really. Just waitressing, playing music, drawing and stitching, and surviving a home environment that while supportive of my creative ambitions was emotionally very, very difficult to endure. My headphones and albums got me through it all. Amazing, really, at how things fell into place for me and I am eternally awestruck and grateful for such a good life now.

Last night’s show contained multiple flashback songs of my life played with such precision and beauty that I admit to getting a little teary at times. “Slice of Life,” a Bauhaus classic, transported me back to those days, with its delicate twelve string acoustic progressions saying more than lyrics ever could. Music about the uncertainty of life, made certain through music. In a nutshell. “GO!” about getting out of your own head and thriving without self-imposed hold-backs. Hits from various post-Bauhaus configurations and interesting covers sprinkled throughout -- “Ball of Confusion,” “Heartbreak Hotel,” even (of all things) Adam Ant’s “Physical,” so many songs, so many memories.

What a great show to see as I hit the mid-century mark. Bookends to a creative journey. I do not think that this group will tour that much more in the future, and am so happy they came by Boston last night. The night was made even more special by meeting up with Walter Newell, who was the drummer in our group back “in the day.” Very special night, very special music, very special memories. Now if only I could get my hearing back and find out what my birds are asking for this morning...

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August 5, 2017

8/5/2017

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Sipping coffee 1 of 2, delaying the day's true startup. Today I hit the dentist for the first time in a while. It is made better by my best friend being the hygienist, but still. I HATE the dentist more than anything. My friend assures me that I will survive, and I can kick her out of my mouth if the scraping sensation becomes overwhelming. I told her it is just a cleaning and that there is NOTHING WRONG with my sound teeth. Let's hope it stays that way! I am a tough friend for her to keep!

Toyed with the idea of saying "Sweet F.A." (Love and Rockets joke) and driving to NYC tonight to see Poptone play. I hate turning the big 50 next month knee deep in school work and doing nothing fun to celebrate. The idea of a party makes me uncomfortable as I am not the most social of butterflies, but doing something fun would be good. This morning though, as sweet Til rolled over, yawned, untangled himself from the blankies long enough to get a belly rub, and Toby sat up on the bed and seemed to not really know where he was or what time it was (imagine...no light, no dark, no sound, no sight) -- I just couldn't do it. Canine elderhostel needs routine and care, not chaos. Having these three canine knuckleheads here together is precious, and increasingly I think it is on borrowed time (especially with the Tobster.)

I keep making jokes about "When Toby's gone I will..." -- and it involves deep cleaning and replacing many things in my home -- but know that I will miss the old smelly lug terribly and want to make sure he is as happy and secure as he can be at this difficult stage of his life. Just watching him go down the flight of stairs from my bedroom every morning is a testament to bravery and resilience, and I now understand why he arrived on this planet with a willfulness, stubbornness, and persistence to thrive despite so many physical obstacles. Yesterday he stayed upstairs sleeping on my bed for about an hour all by himself. He NEVER would have done that when he wasn't deaf and blind. He is definitely slowing down. Adapting, but slowing down. I won't leave him alone now as it would really stress him out. He's be looking for me at the usual times and...not good. Sigh. Motherhood.

The Poptone show will be fabulous, though. It's been 35 years since I've seen most of this music played live. 35 years. Get your head around that. If I'm anxious about hitting 50, I can remember that Daniel Ash just turned 60 and is still rocking. The artistic icons of my youth are still inspiring greatness!

On the artistic note, had a wonderful week with a great group of middle school kids working in sketchbooks and trying out lots of creative drawing ideas. What a blast! I'd love to do more middle school small group classes. Maybe two week Saturday sessions on specific topics might be fun. It is rejuvenating and fun to work with kids, and adds to the excitement for the upcoming school year.

Artistically I have still so many things to complete to reach my summer goals, but I'm getting there. I want to start a series of collage canvases, too, that I've "seen" in my mind's eye, that are begging to be created. It is nice to balance the "quick" process of collage on canvas with the labor intensive and persnickety nature of textiles. If only there was more time...the RA bus hit me for the past three days and put a damper on things, so hoping today is better. Game on! With Bauhaus, Love and Rockets, and Tones on Tail as the soundtrack. In vinyl! Cheers.

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August 1, 2017

8/1/2017

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A new month. My teacher brain is waking up and becoming restless...new bulletin board ideas, new strategies to try to incorporate, new projects to use to deliver curriculum. New ways to store acrylic paint so that there is less waste (well, that is what I figured out at 2am!) As much as I love the summer schedule when I can flit from thing to thing with the pre-planning of a dragonfly in the garden, it is incredibly inspiring to start a new school year, filled with tightly packed schedules, fact paced productivity, and all those great kids that love to learn about and create art. When I do celebrate bouts of insomnia with school planning and Pinterest visits that last just a little too long, I realize I am the luckiest person in the world to have the creative career I have in the school I am in. My classroom has been cleaned, so I will start to go in and get it uber-ready next week. Few hours at a time, then I can flit like a dragonfly for a little longer.

I fast forward to the exhaustion that sets in once school starts and realize it has taken about a month to get rid of the tiredness from the last school year. It feels so good to not be bone-tired all the time, or maybe it is that I can manage it all better with an open schedule. Getting a higher dose of Remicade in a few weeks, so I hope that will get me going for school’s start, too. The brain-clutter from managing so many students and all their classes needs time to settle and evaporate, making room for clear thinking and a fresh start.

A teacher’s brain never really stops thinking and planning, though. Especially in today’s information rich world. What do I teach in each of my many courses? Why? What do my students need most? How do I deliver the concepts most effectively, and how to I better manage all the materials and procedures? What past activities and projects stay, and which need to be retired? How can I be a better teacher, each and every day? How do I keep my desk clean and organized, let alone my room? The struggle is real, and I get a kick at how some of the coolest ideas materialize at unusual times.

On the art front, my three bowl pieces are almost done. I just need to bead the edges. I really like the idea of framing the pieces this way as I’ve toyed with “building” with pieces of stitched fabric already and see this as a natural extension for wall work -- and a chance to work in more beads! Went to a fun bead show in New Hampshire over the weekend and fortunately/unfortunately found a lot of wonderful treasures. Now, to use them all up before departing the planet. Challenge accepted!

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August 28, 2017

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