Mr. Fyst, you were right...

Mr. Arty, you were right. The painter man was spooked out by death. Wrote me a long email explaining what happened with his mother when he was small - came close to the big D word. Flipped him out. Then one of his best friend's sister died. He loved them to bits, but still could not bring himself to the funeral. Says he still beats himself up for it, has tried to change his character but can't seem to do it. Change his attitude that is.

Up until my grandmother died last March, it had been a long time in between deaths. The last one being my best friend who offed himself in a hotel room. I wept for days, then off and on for weeks, then off and on for months. Even to this day, I still shed a tear.

I mourn the loss of one of the best friends I have ever had, mourn the loss of the possibilities for him, the lives he could have touched. The world would have been a better place with him still in it, but on the flip side, when he was on this earth, so many people were touched by his life, love and laughter, and i was one of the privileged.


I remember seeing his ashes in a beautiful burgundy box on the altar of a small chapel. Our gang sat around it - 5 on either side. His cegep family, and his blood family. Back then, the idea of cremation freaked me out; but today, my grandmother's ashes is right beside our wedding picture. She could not make it in person, but at least she was there in spirit. Technically, she is here in person, but in a different and smaller more compact version...

So that closed door is now re-opened. Happy about that, but i tread with caution. I have begun to guard myself, but begun to question wether i must now lower my expectations of my friends and their behavior and what i will accept as "acceptable behavior".

Still now word from She. Not even a  "well, bitch, if that's the way you feel, fuck you", which is what i expected. At at least that. Latest post on fb says that she's going on vacation. Posted on somebody else's post that "I'm sick too and nobody is taking care of me!"

well girl, you made your bed, now lie in it...

but it still hurts, and it hurts my attitude towards my art and myself.

I looked at my latest frame series. Not a lot of activity on it. Received one private message that said it was brilliant - and i had reached a new pinnacle in my creativity.

Really?

why does it feel like i am rotting inside? Why do i feel as if I am slipping away?

but anyway.
The hurt will eventually turn to annoyance, and from that, minor irritation. There will be a scab, but to heal entirely, i must avoid picking at it. That is why i have removed her from my news feed. Removed all her old emails from my inbox, put them into a folder called: "I don't care anymore".

Same with my father. E and i are drafting the final email. His attention span is the size of a pin head, so being concise is key. Looking for a one two punch. Then walking away from the fight for good.

It's windy outside, snow rolling by like ice capped waves. Snow. That used to equal skiing. Father and daughter time on the slopes. And that was lots of fun. But in order to move on, i must forge new memories, new experiences.

one step at a time. One hill at a time.

So mr. Fyst - you were right, as I knew you would be. I felt the same way and knew that A was a kind heart, yet tormented soul, but for the others? Well, they have their own demons to wrestle with, but there is a difference between being self centered and centering the self.

onward and upward. On the page and onto the screen our words will go.

guardian angels exist in cyberspace.

I was getting very distraught that my postcards had not made it to the gallery in time for the opening last night. After an hour with customer service, they agreed to reprint 500 more postcards rush order and ship them off last night.

Well, I just received confirmation that they arrived safely.

a day late - well, i guess I'll make an impression ;-)

but this is what moved me.

An old friend of mine from flickr who is now on facebook posted this onto my profile.

and then, what i wrote back to him.

an end of the week blessing of sorts.

Me:

Releived that the Postcards FINALLY made it to NYC. A little late, but I guess I'm sure to leave a lasting impression ;-)

Derrick: HPK, believe it or not! -- I prayed that those postcards got to you in good hands eventually (several times). In fact, I sent my guardian angel out to make to guide those cards to you in fashionable time. And, of course, none of this ever fails!

What is interesting is that yesterday I had started to write you a wall post that was going to ask if perhaps you had gotten them yet (because I sensed in my heart that you were going to get them; my guardian angel never fails me). If you had of said "no," I was going to say, "...have a little faith, because they are going to be there soon, watch and see." All of this is true.

Then I see now that you received them. Perfect!

and what i wrote to him right after...

Derrick, you have no idea how completely floored i am that you took a few moments to pray and ask your guardian angel to help get those cards to nyc! I was gonna get all mushy gushy on my post, but thought that i would rather tell you personally. Thank you so very very much.

It's been such a long time since I have been moved by the kindness of strangers (well, you're not a stranger, but we have never "Met" per say, but you know what i mean...) that when i read this a few minutes ago, i shed tears of joy and thankfulness. I have always felt that you were a special person from the moment i saw your photos, and then as the years passed, and i got to know you a bit more, that opinion became solidified. You have such a way with words, the sentences you compose, the images you create - the kind only a caring and sensitive soul would imagine. I'm almost speechless! Thank you thank you thank you!!

Guardian angels - not many people talk about them anymore. I once had an experience when i was very young - perhaps 7 or 8. I always had a statue of a guardian angel on my bureau. She was beautiful - tall, stoic, cascading long golden hair, a shimmery white robe and delicate sparkled wings. It was an old ceramic figurine that was passed down from my mom to me. Well, one night, i awoke from a horrible nightmare and sat up in bed. Before me was the fading apparition of the same guardian angel, now larger than life - extending her arm out to me as if to say: go back to sleep. It's okay, i'm here to take care of you..." And as i try to focus on her, she slowly faded away. That night, i had the best sleep of my life. I tried to explain it to my mom but she shrugged it off as part of a dream, but i knew otherwise.

it was not until a few days after my grandfather's funeral did my mom start to believe in what i was saying. Her father had a long suffering bout with lung cancer and when he died, was skin and bones. A few days after the funeral, my mom was awake, tossing and turning, in and out of a light drift of unconsciousness when she noticed something glowing on in the curtains in front of her. She looked up and it was her father - radiant, glowing, and looking healthy and happy. He reached out to touch her shoulder, as if to say: "I'm here, i'm happy and i love you". She was filled with grace and love and as she fell asleep, felt protected and at peace. She still considers that the best sleep of her life.

I often have dreams of dead relatives. They never actually "Speak", just telepathically communicate. I had told my grandmother (my mom's mom) when i was about 15 that i had these dreams. Her face lit up: "back in the old country (czechoslovakia) we would consider people who were able to see the dead as special and very gifted. You have a special connection with the beyond." well, it was many months before i dreamt of her, but a few weeks ago, both my mom and myself dreamt of her ON THE SAME NIGHT!! and to both of us, revealed that she was happy and at peace (although she did make my mom work - "I'm coming to visit and I'm bringing 5 friends - I hope you don't mind!". (My mom always seems to be working in her dreams. Guess it's a capricorn thing cause e does the same... lol) And then, two weeks later, we both dreamt of my aunt and my grandmother - AGAIN -THE SAME NIGHT!! So as i get older, i realize that there are perhaps things as the afterlife - planes of energy that vibrate long after the body is gone, and that sometimes, if you are sensitive enough, or perhaps, ask loudly enough, you will get a reply.

Atoms communicate to each other. On what level still is the great unknown, and perhaps will forever remain the greatest mysteries of the universe. All of that to say, I guess you have a really great relationship with your guardian angel Derrick. And because you shared that relationship with me in an indirect way, I am so very blessed to have you as a friend in my life. :-))

I have one little favor to ask though - if you can please say some special prayers for my mother? She is still on her arthritis medication which happens to be an immune system suppressant. The battle rages between her oncologist who says to go off it (because he thinks that it suppressed her immune system so much that despite the IL2 treatments which were immune system boosters, so that the cancer was able to come back) and her g.p who says to stay on it. She is battle weary and i fear that if the cancer does come back, she will refuse treatment, or that the cancer will come back with a vengeance - brain or pancreatic cancer, which there is usually no hope for survival. I'd like to believe in miracles - that she will beat this thing, but after reading your post, I now believe in little ones, and they are the building block for the big ones. God Bless you Derrick. Than you for being so very special. oxoxoxoxooxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxooxxooxoxoox hpk

good to know i'm not the only one...

August 26, 2009. 12:56AM. Dear Diary: I can't believe it! Ever since I've started posting semi-nude self-portraits on Flickr back in 2005, I've been flooded with international sexual opportunities! Can my perfectly rounded scoops of flesh and my unyeilding neurotic preoccupation with sex, sexy thoughts and all things sexual (for that matter)really cause such a stir?

Dr. Jo

DRK:

Hahaha! I feel like I've just read a "spam mail" heading!

"My intentions are good, I use my intuition, it takes me for a ride," sang John Lennon. How fitting. I think.

Anyway, this is hilarious.

Dr. Jo:

My breasts have become completely unresponsive to any and all attempts to cajole them back to Fucker. I mean Flickr.

HPK:

hahah! Yep. My hooters have been hiding behind a well padded facade for a while now. Ignorance is oddly blissful, but at times, suffocating. Flickr haunts and taunts me, but alas, mine are unresponsive as well. Don't worry dear Joanne, a few more weeks of bench presses and they will be popping out of your shirt - literally!!! lol !

Dr. Jo:

You too, HPK? My "relationship" with Flickr and the Flickr "audience" has undergone many transformations but it seems to be on the decline as of late. I wonder if that's all there is or simply, has my desire to be "out there" waned a bit? Perhaps I haven't any more to give...or I just like the "intimacy" of FB better? Dunno., but this is fine for now :)

HPK:

It's comforting to hear I'm not the only one going through this bizarre period. Flickr is a strange place now, crawling with bottom feeders trolling for porn in whatever crumb they can find. That's one big reason I didn't post my profile pic here there. Can you imagine how many foot freaks would fave that photo? Ewwwwee...

And I've noticed some of the people I had as contacts have "un-contacted" me. I feel a bit betrayed somehow. I exposed myself to them, they replied with love and support, and now it's as if i don't exist. (but that's a whole other bag of beans).
Transformation. A change of direction in our art? It's all so scary. What used to be my saving grace has now turned into a used kleenex. Why am i keeping it if it is just making my pocket all soggy? But It's more than a kleenex - it's a handkerchief really. And that always has sentimental value attached. So flicker, & style that defined me are my hanky. Toss, wash or keep? That is the question...