A letter to a friend

a letter to a photographer friend today - a reply to his message after seeing my film
Clair Obscure.

I was surprised by what gushed forth
sometimes I surprise myself, in a good way :-)

Oh Dave,

you have no idea how much your message has touched me. So many emotions. I don't know where to begin...

first, I'll start from the end...

Interesting you picked up on the whole doc/60's-70's feel. I guess my religious viewing of films such as shock corridor (Sam Fuller), Titicut Follies (Frederick Wiseman), 2001 (Kubrick), A woman under the influence (Cassavettes) and of course, One Flew over the cuckoo's nest (Forman) and Let there be light (Huston). Film has been a huge part of my life. When my parents divorced, i was 11, and my weekly father's visits consisted of dinner @ Wendy's or McDonalds followed by a movie. That's all we did. That was his way of connecting. After watching a film, we'd go for ice cream and have our own "At the movies" critique session. You can imagine how interesting they were when we saw 2001 a Space Odyssey and Apocalypse Now (he snuck me into that one. Opening week - crazy insanity. He literally snuck me underneath his coat!!)

And when I did film production @ university, we were old school. 1990. Cutting film was an organic experience. Almost spiritual.

manic depression is often a ticking time bomb, present in the family tree and detonated during or after a traumatic event - my detonation was my parent's split. After that. puberty wreaked havoc until I was 19. That's when I had my full blown breakdown. It was ugly. It is truly a miracle I lived to tell the tale. I should have been dead by now, more than half a dozen times over...

After almost a year of being shuttled from emergency room to another, I was helped by a doctor who was starting a crisis clinic at one of the hospitals. She was a pioneer in her field and research into bipolar. It was the light at the end of the tunnel, but little did I know, the tunnel would be filled with sewage, rot and stigma. (funny enough - while I'm writing this, I just realized that the whole scene in the tunnel might have been a subconscious link to that...)

I was hospitalized for a week and then a day patient for a month. The big mental hospital is actually an old mansion on the mountain. Ornate, yet now devoid of all its glamour, it was a hollow shell of a once grandiose existence - so much like the life of a person with bipolar - after the crash...

I knew I was not 'crazy/over the edge" as some of the people there were, but i was not far from it. I had actually looked into the abyss. Stood on the precipice of no return. It was a welcome end to an existence filled with pain, confusion and relentless chaos. That ledge was so narrow. Despite my new 'medicated lithium state", it was terrifying to actually know that i was so close to jumping into an alternate reality because mine had become a living hell. The woman who sat in the waiting room, in the buss, arranging her groceries, watching out the window as the world passed her by, letting the wind blow through her hair. That could have been me. In that waiting room, in that other world...

what brought me back, i still don't know. But to this day, I am forever thankful that by some divine intervention, i returned. Perhaps it was the will to live, my higher reptilian brain telling me to push through. Or perhaps it was my old soul telling me it was my gift to be able to share this experience with the world. That my suffering was indeed necessary to be able to coherently explain life "on the other side" and to give others hope, and others insight into an existence that is nothing short of hell on earth...

Your relationship with your ex-girlfriend - bless your heart. We all need somebody as understanding and loving as you are to her. You are insightful and kind to realize that bipolar is something bigger than we are. It is bigger than our logical mind. It is our emotional mind on crack. It's the vortex of fear and isolation, of gravity and pain twisted around synapses that fire furiously, out of control, without a plan. Rabid. Paralyzing. What we say and do during our mixed states is not of our own consciousness. It is the muddled kaleidoscope of isolation, broken dreams and terror.

And ADD, I suffer from that too, albeit a mild version but  I know all too well how that can turn a normal task into a labyrinth of confusion and complication.  Mine runs into elliptical and illogical ruminations about death, paranoia and other worst case scenarios. Sometimes, I can't even step out of the house because I'm afraid that the earth will open up and swallow me whole, or that I will spontaneously combust. My mind checks over the details like a mega processor, but the computations never add up but information spews forth at random, adding to the confusion and chaos in my brain.

Dysthymic  Disorder - that languid melancholy, worn like a wet overcoat. How it turns the most beautiful sunset into a realization that another day has passed and life is that much shorter.  How the excitement of a new day is filtered through the density of apprehension that what we didn't do yesterday is yet another reason to put off what we could have done to what we should do, but then as the sunset begins, we get lost in an endless cycle of regret and what seems like idyllic hope. I really hope that you are able to manage those episodes. That you have found a medication to ease the pain. I have found that CBT (cognitive behavioral therapy has helped me a lot), but as with all ways of seeing and learning, it takes practice. The key is to stay positive and focused. Which for people like us, is nothing short of a hurdle in itself. Having friends who understand and believe in you are key.

But I think the worst part is dealing with the people who think "it's all in your head". Yes. It is. But despite that when they say : "just snap out of it" - mental illness is a chemical imbalance. The brain is a complex system of nerve tissue, fibers, neurons, dendrites and synapses - all working together or against each other. Even in the 21st century, science is still in the initial stages of comprehension and unraveling the mystery that is the human mind. I have had to deal with people who say: "just get a grip on life", "everybody has problems", "it's all in how you deal with it" or the best one: "buck up and face your problems like a man/woman".  It is my hope that one day, people who are these ignorant naysayers live one life in the mind of somebody who suffers as we have. I have no doubt that they would quickly change their mind and opinion, but until then, I try with my photography and films to drive the point home.

Did you see my "blue series" on flickr? I have a bunch of other "self portraits" that try to illustrate life on the other side of sanity. With each shutter click, i hope that one day I will get closer to being more cohesive, better at expressing my experiences. It's important that people know and understand. Ignorance breeds contempt and hatred. Our world is filled with enough of that. 
People who suffer by no will of their own need a fucken break. 

All my life i've had to deal with people labeling me a "weird/off/strange/psychotic/wacky". A good friend of mine from high school with whom i recently reconnected with said that people often came to her and asked: "why are you friends with her? She's pretty messed up." But she stuck through, believed in me and said - 'that's why she's so special. And that's why she's my friend." If only i had that kind of unconditional acceptance from my friends and family. 

After a nasty court settlement when i turned 20, my mother, father and both lawyers on both sides sat in our lawyer's office and when asked if we had any last words, I looked at him and pulled out a piece of paper.

"dad, you think that this is all in my head - this depression. this mania. my suffering. Here is a list of doctors that will tell you that I am in fact suffering from bipolar disorder. That it is real. I encourage you to get in touch with them and talk to them yourself."

without looking at me, he packed up his briefcase, took the paper, folded it into a tiny square and shoved it in his pocket. 


"Well, if I were to ask the doctors when all my problems started, they would say that it all started when you were born."

And with that, he left the room. His lawyer, my lawyer and mother all stood there, silent and shocked. His lawyer apologized profusely. So did our lawyer. So did my mom. It was something I would have to get used to.

How ironic is it that to this day, my dad, even though he has seen my film, still does not believe that what i suffer from is a legitimate and medical condition.

It is still something I am getting used to. But if my film can touch one person, then all of this will have been worth it.

And your message has made me smile.

I'm so happy that it touched your life. That means everything to me.

Please stay well Dave, and i have faith that one day, we will be able to share our stories on the battle field. We have come through the difficult task of survival, overcoming the stigma, and through that, will inspire others.

hpk

Last night was grand.
Simply sublime.

An urban cowboy friend of a friend hosted a house party.
Out in the stix, but it was well worth the hike.

and turns out, that being there, making the effort, spoke volumes in terms of letting it be known that we did take the time out of our day to come and be a part of the celebration.


Some people who said they would show up apparently had their reasons.
Apparently.

But that night was filled with new connections and forging of new creative endeavors.

Sis and Bobby were there - always soulful friendship connections.

And the new individuals that we met - priceless.

I told E on the way home:
meeting people like this, engaging in intelligent conversation, honest and heartfelt laughter is what makes the world go around, at least my world. It's my lifeline - people like this - real people. I have less and less time for the riff raff, people who are more interested in looking into their own reflection, or look for their own reflection in others. They are all fucken shallow and waste my time. Time to purge and cleanse. After this weekend, I have seen enough of people who care only about themselves. Enough is enough. I've stopped giving away my time. You need it - you earn it. You can have all your fluffy vapid self centered friends. Just don't bring them to our house. I don't want that energy to taint ours.

FB - status.
People are too busy collecting fucken farm animals to take a nano-second to even give  "like/thumbs up" notification. Whatever.
So noted.
In my books.



But as sis and I convened - there is a lot happening and a lot going to happen in the next little while. How interesting that this was my horoscope from Daily Om...


August 22, 2010
Connected by Support
Aries Daily Horoscope

The encouragement you receive from friends about your projects could make you feel surrounded by an unlimited amount of support today. Just knowing that others care about you and your work might help you see that the things you do have value and meaning not only for yourself, but also for others. Even though this validation from other people might be meaningful for you, perhaps today you can think about how much worth your work has for your soul. Going back to a completed project, taking a deep breath, and looking upon your work with new eyes could make it easier for you to recognize just how much your projects impact you. Finding support in yourself, you may find, is just as important as seeking it from other people.

When we are able to feel pleased about our work, the support we receive from others is wonderful and precious but is not the only thing that sustains our efforts. So often we can get lost in wanting others to approve of what we do and praise us for a job well done. When we learn to do that for ourselves, however, any encouragement that others give us is something that we can cherish. Through our efforts we are able to strengthen our level of connection, trust, and respect for each other. By seeing the support you get as something that binds you to others, you will be able to appreciate what you receive through an entirely new perspective today. 

Moving in the right direction...

Moving in the right direction.
That is the ultimate quest...






Life seems to be leading me into a bunch of different directions: film, tv, writing, photography, directing, traveling. I'm one person and despite the allure of all these different avenues, I think i might have to take one and stick with it. At least for now, but remain fluid and open to all the changes that are coming my way.


As always, Daily Om seems to have it bang on. So much wisdom. So much sense...


August 21, 2010
The Right Direction
Aries Daily Horoscope

You might not feel confident that your life purpose is on track which could make you feel uncertain about yourself today. If you can keep in mind that it is natural to question how your life is going, you may find some relief in your doubt. Taking the time to look back on your life – maybe by drawing a timeline on a piece of paper – you might be able to see the connections of your major life transitions more clearly. As you look at the things that have happened to you in the past, you may, for example, notice that not everything appears to be linear – that there have been some twists and turns along your path. Reflecting on these times and assessing what you learned when your life didn’t seem to be heading in the right direction today may help you to realize that these periods of time can actually be some of the most intense growing experiences.

Understanding that the road we follow in our lives does not always follow a straight line allows us to much more readily accept our life course. The times when things don’t seem to go our way can easily convince us that we aren’t doing anything positive in our lives. In actuality, it is these times that will be your best teacher today – for it is only when you are able to transform a situation into a learning experience that you will set out more confidently on a steadier course and truly evolve. 

a dead cat and a female fire fighter

I saw a dead cat yesterday in my back yard.
it broke me into a million pieces.
lying, deep permanent sleep on the ground
It was old and perhaps had lived a full, yet difficult 9th life




saw a female fire fighter today on the street.
I was filled with pride and admiration
confident, as her pony tail, blond locks floated through the air
she was young and surrounded by men who worked in tandem with her.
















(I will comment more on the death of a cat, and what my fucken brute of a landlord did. Gawd. I wish I could take this guy's brain and shove it up his ass. It would probably work better that way...)

whaaa??

I'm always floored when people say they like my art. I mean, people who say they really like my art. Not just because the pictures are pretty, the colors are harmonious, faces are attractive or subject matter is witty. But people who are artists themselves, who use art as a vehicle for communication, expression, living.

A fellow artist reached out to me the other day. Saw my photos on Saatchi Online and wanted to send me an email.

I was checking my messages on Saatchi and saw your thumbnail. So I ventured over to your site and I love what you do. Its some really great stuff and I know what little relief, confirmation, or whatever other reaction that comes from someones mere recognition of your work, but I felt that you at least deserve that. I love the portraits and your film.




Wow.


I mean wow!


I was completely blown away. 


And that was only a portion of some of the other messages i received over the past few days...


This was all hot on the heels of a few weeks ago when a publishing house from Jakarta found three of my images online and wanted to put them in their next book of "upcoming and important art". There was a catch - to buy the book was 100$ US (200$ retail), but it was not mandatory to be a part of it. The royalties are bird poop, but to know that this book will be circulating all through Asia is quite an eye opener. Who knows what will happen, who will see my work. The important thing is that it's getting out there. FINALLY. On the wings of a prayer and pixel, things might just be looking up.


I was all about to toss my camera away. Relegate it to the halls of silent sewing machines and miscellanies of cloistered craft kits. The dead zone of artistic endeavors started with good intentions, but now fated to become relics for future generations. 




I had one last hope. One last whim as a "photographer" - to submit to a high gloss fashion magazine. "What do I have to lose? No stamps involved in cybermail !"


Well, off it went. And to bed was I to go. But seven minutes after the initial whoosh sound from my outbox, came a delicate "bing!"


Oh, crap. It bounced.
Was my first thought. Now I know that I have to modify my first thoughts from constantly being negative to perhaps being optimistic!




Note to self. 
Make a note of this...


WOW!! The first one rocks!!! The second is grand and if we place these, I want to make sure there is a full message. do you have more to look at?? Can't wait!


why, yes, as a matter of fact, I do!


and so off it went, batch # 2, and then 3, and 4.


What did I get back?
Well, the universe rewarded me with this one:


You have such a lovely perspective on your art. I went through your images and there are so many I really loved. I would love to see a mix of some for you to submit if you are down with that. I will go through them and post them and if you are into it, please send images by following the image submission form. I can't believe the talent the body painter has! WOW! HOLY SEEEEEEETTTTT!!!


whaaaaattt!?!??


Really?!!


This magazine kicks serious ass. I mean, really serious ass. It was a submission on a whim. Never even thought i'd get a second look cause the quality is beyond top notch, it's stellar. And me with my little self portraits looking all moody and stuff.. 


But it was not 10 minutes after this email I got another.

Some other gallery owner personally took the time to email me to notify me of an "art competition i should know about". He, an art collector, was online and found my site. "We look forward to viewing your submissions".

whaaaaattt!?!??

Floored. 

It was all i could do to not jump around the house like a child on Christmas morning.

two days after, a new connection with a fellow flickr-er.

I loved her work. It spoke to me, and apparently, mine did to her as well...

You know, i was actually timid about making you a contact.... I thought you'd find my work.. I don't know... overdone of bland...

So for two years, i've followed your work, where i saw it in groups, but never felt i should join in the parade of your followers.

I regret that, now *s

Holy sheeeeet.

Was this the universe hammering me in the head - shouting at me: "DON'T DO IT! KEEP YOUR CAMERA!! KEEP ON GOING!!"

well, whatever it was, is, will be, it's working. And I'm so very thankful of every day that my work travels over millions of miles of network cables, through the air, and into the eyes and minds of those who choose to see.

Thank you universe.

Thank you God.

Thank me.

Thank you :-)

it was good

I have to recount a dream I had the other night.

very creepy cool but it was good.

I think i have also found my spark again. That longing to make a difference in the world. The knowing that I'm here for a purpose greater than I can ever imagine.


going for some dinner comfort food with mom and hubby. Will be back later.

I seem so lost when I don't write.
My head needs to empty, my soul needs to expand, my fingers need to exercise and follow the words from my head to the keyboard.

it's all good...

my left foot

Strange days indeed.

it's been so long since my last post, and so much to write.
Where do I begin?

I will start by going backwards.

Tried to ramp up the CBT the other day because i need to preach what I'm practicing...


Spoke to a friend about her crumbling marriage. Telling her to try to keep positive. That there is never rain 365 days a year. That the sun always breaks through the clouds. That for the most part, 98% of the population are not 100% evil, and that her husband has an addiction. Even if that addiction is to his "other woman" who he can't stop texting for even a moment.

While on the phone with me, she and her hubby were texting. There was some funny banter back and fourth and I was privy to the play by play.

"I said something about wanting to fondle his elbow"
(because as per the marriage therapist, they were supposed to work on "touching and reconnecting")

text back - my elbow?
text - i mean your foot. I love how uneven your toes are on your left foot.
text back - it's my right...

"What the hell does that mean? Was that meant for me? Is he texting his friend and thought it was me saying : "it's his right to see his child during a separation" !?"

"Holy crap girl! Your mind is like a rabid monkey spinning around in your head! How can you be sure that is what he is REALLY saying?"

"Well, it must be! I think i should call my lawyer tomorrow..."

"Why don't you just ask him what he means?"

text - what?
text back - it's my right foot...

We both laughed.

"See my dear, it's only about his right foot! See how the mind went into overdrive and began to fill in all the cracks of the rest of the sentence? Attaching meaning to where there was none?!"

And we laughed and laughed. I poked fun at the situation by telling her about the famous intro to the Monty Python film with the big foot coming down and squishing everything. The visual was hysterical. And at the same time - poignant. How the mind will overcompensate for a lack of information by blowing things out of proportion - a huge foot stomping on everything. People, flowers, musical notes.

A gargantuan foot - splayed toes and all...

"my mind is just running around lighting everything on fire. I can't stop it.'

"yes you can, it just takes work; but obsessive tendencies are part of our pedigree. Great grandmother, grandmother, your mother, my mother were all struggling with some form of depression. I'm bipolar. The black sheep crazy of the family, but obsessive/compulsive behavior is a part of that. it's all under the umbrella of mental illness in its varying degrees."

"well, i must be OCD then. I just keep on digging this obsessive grave deeper and deeper until I can't get out and get suffocated by these fucken thoughts."

I tried to explain my techniques: listing all the thoughts, the % of how much i believe each thought, exaggerate the worst case scenario and how much I believe that, what i know to be true, the grade of anxiety from 1-10 (at the beginning and at the end of the exercise). I extolled the virtues of finding my "touchstones" - things that make me happy and shift my thinking just by doing/watching/listening.

We were both impressed with my logic and clarity.
I'm proud that I have some of those moments sometimes.

After four and a half hours of Wayne Dyer-izing, CBT-ating and Zen-atilitaing, she was calm and at peace, and happily, so was I.


Today changed that mood.

An email: the whole time he was texting me, he was texting her! NOW WHAT DO I DO?!?!

What do you do? What can be told to someone who is living with and loving a person that has an obsessive compulsion?

I feel horrible for having given sound advice.
I feel like a flake, fake, and bullshitter for having believed my own advice. For allowing myself to try to "think well".

And as I type this, I can hear the monkey in my mind getting restless. Sharp utensils are within its reach. The once peaceful room is getting cluttered with negative images, words and scenarios. How do I tame this beast?

Scratch its belly. Keep it happy.

I try to smile, underneath my skin pulled taut over muscle twitching confusion...