Modern Medicine

Modern Medicine
Originally uploaded by BlackWing.

I am helping my mom as much as I can while she goes through her chemo. And if she needed a kidney, I would have given her that too.

This photo and it's starkness, serenity and hope touched me so much, I had to post it.

It makes me happy to know that there are people out there who really do care, and would sacrifice part of themselves for the people they love.

Beautiful story and image Blackwing.

R.I.P

I am overcome with sadness.
My camera, my backup (which was once my primary camera for more than 10 years) has died.

I am offically without a camera.
And I feel as if my eyes have been torn out.

It's as if I had lost a good friend.

It was thanks to that camera that my journey into self-portraiture began.

Perhaps you think it's silly for a grown woman to mourn the breakdown of a block of plastic, metal and computer chips, but to the photographer, a camera is an extension of the body.

My body.
And now it's gone.

And it's hard to guage, with everything going on in my life right now, when I will be able to get another one - digital or 35mm.



It's a sad day - hellophotokitty might just be a sadkitty for a while...

Happy Easter

Greek Orthodox Easter // 4 of 6
Originally uploaded by Lady Vervaine.

Happy Greek Orthodox Easter to all my friends.

This photo touched me in so many ways, especially after reading what Lady Vervaine said about it...

"I've had all kinds of ups and downs with religion. A long time ago, I thought it made sense of the world; made sense of who I was; even made sense of death. But these days, it makes no sense to me at all.

So I feel a little strange, taking pictures of these people, with their glow of faith. I wish I shared it, and yet I'm glad I don't – both feelings at the same time. Confused? Yes, I am. About so many things, and this one more than most."

A feeling of inertia in a world of solids and forms.

Duck and cover your mouth when you cough.

Paranoia.

Update your Will. Hopefully this won't be necessary but not all of us are going to survive


I have become an information junkie and it's scaring the shit out of me.

Hope for the best, but plan for the worst...

CNN, MSNBC are the ones I frequent the most. And the Weather Channel. Can't forget that one.

I hate programs like Dateline. Why?
Too much information.
It's the overload of doom and gloom - worst possible case scenarios that make me even more paranoid than normal.

(paranoia level: Yellow - Elevated)

Find a Place in the Country. If you live in the city, you will be surrounded by anarchy. Catastrophes such as this always lead to civil disorder. If you can escape the city you will be much safer. If you don't have one, consider purchasing a trailer. If you can't afford it, consider a tent.


Tonight's episode of wrath was all about a flu pandemic - imminent and about to strike any minute. People in the thousands will be dying. It could be years before a vaccine would be developed to combat the various mutating strains. Keep enough water and perishable food items to last you and your family about two weeks - and oh yea, stock up on your medication (but please don't hoard the Tamiflu) - BUT DON'T PANIC!

Since commerce will be severely interrupted during a pandemic, bartering will become the accepted means of exchange. Having a good supply of face masks will give you a commodity that will enable you to trade with others.

Disaster disaster - we're all gonna die some horrible death.
Ring around the posy - scars, Ebola, H5N1 avian influenza,
we all fall down.

" During a pandemic ...we will see a collapse of the global economy as we know it which means that we're going to run out of those things ...things like medical supplies, drugs, masks, whatever." -- Michael T. Osterholm, Director, Center for Infectious Disease Research and Policy at the University of Minnesota, speaking on the Oprah Show, January 24/06

When I was a kid, I used to have nightmares about a nuclear attack.
The cold war had a wind chill of -20 and terrified me.
How to prepare in case of a nuclear attack - duck and cover.
How naive were we back then.
How real the threat now.

Airborne particles are gonna kill ya!
No place to hide!

I hope I don't have nightmares tonight.

"Up to one billion people could die around the whole world in six months.... We are half a step away from a worldwide pandemic catastrophe." Dmitry K. Lvov, Director, D.I. Ivanovsky Institute of Virology, Russian Academy of Medical Sciences.


That's the problem with being medicated for manic/depression. Sometimes it just takes one thing to start the merry-go-round spin out of control.

Whether or not it will happen this year, and whether or not it will be as catastrophic as many virologists are predicting, one thing is clear: There WILL be a pandemic of unimaginable proportions some time soon

We all fall down

but get back up.

I must get back up.
my mom needs me, as I too
need myself.

And God bless Canada - and the CBC

I've got the flu! What do I do?
Rent some movies and prepare to spend seven to 10 days at home, resting.

Good advice eh?

A letter to a friend...

A letter to a friend...

This was a letter to a friend I wrote two nights ago.

I was feeling so down, lost and alone.

Sometimes venting is a good thing.

(and Zara ;-) Thanks for commenting here :-) We'll talk and I'll address those 'things' in-depth very soon on this blog...

Hey girl.

How are you doing?

Sorry I have been silent lately - so much to fucken crap to chew on...

Got word that the treatment will make mom progressively sicker as each week passes. That is not too good of a thing. As the 3rd and 4th week come closer, my worries about how much I can take care of her begin to mount. Apparently, it might take her 4 to 6 months to recover.

Ouf.

That's the shit.

I have not even thought of the idea that the cancer might come back, or that she might have to have chemo for a year. I really have too much on my plate. I am trying to stay afloat.

Everything just seems so overwhelming at times.

I read a book that said the majority of cancer patients have had many stressors in their life - a serious shock at an early age. I worry that I am the poster child for something to be inside of me - a time bomb. Heard today that my great grandfather and grandfather (on mom's side) both had cancer (liver and bladder), no to mention my dad who had bladder cancer as well. Now my mom.

Yea, stamp a fucken giant C on my forehead?!

I am just scared and rambling.

I am begining to know how you feel when you talk about your breast cancer concerns.

It's in my family, it's in yours. Its everyfuckenwhere.

I know you know that it's hard keeping optimistic here in her casa.

She watches CNN -ALL THE TIME! Quite the information junkie.

All doom and gloom 24 hours a day. Ticker tape along the bottom spelling out the inevitable extinction of the human race, the planet. Now the san Francisco thing. I try to stay away, up in my own little hideaway where old "Canadian Home Living" magazines tempt and comfort me with picture perfect home cooked pot roasts and white bread words of wisdom from housewives in Nova Scotia.

It's hard staying here.

I thought it wouldn't be as bad, but some days it is.

It's not gonna get any better either - cumulative side effects of the medication as it floats through her system.

So I just wanted to say hello before I go to bed and that you are always on my mind. You, your man, your baby, your two doggies and your house - all back home again. A lease on a whole new life.

Oh girl, how I envy you. There is finally some peace and happiness in your world, and you bella, of all people I know, deserve it so very much.

End of week 1

I am so exhausted right now.
We just got through week one - and when I say 'we', it means the whole truckload of us.
Mom, E, Bettee and myself.

waiting and doctors
white hallways and stale sandwitches
hand disenfictant and doctors, nurses, volunteers
and sick people
so many sick people with cancer.

It was really hard to wrap my head around how many people were having various kinds of treatment for cancer - new ones every day - never the same one twice.

She's feeling flu-ish as to be expected.
Yesterday was such a good day, she wanted to go shopping with me.
And today we walked 8 long blocks just because she felt like walking.

The side effects are cumulative so she is expecting the heavy stuff to rear it's ugly sickly head in the next two weeks.
- don't be a fortune teller! You don't know that for sure, and the doctor said that Alpha Interferon has different side effects for everybody.
- have you had your 3 liters of water today?
- are you doing your 'positive imaging" ? Zapping those cancer cells in your body with Lady Pac Man sized interferon interceptors?

now I feel like the mother.

Weary and worn, but hanging in.

Got two cinematography jobs lined up for me late May into June. Short stints - but the # 2 one has a HUGE French Canadian singer/actor attached to it. I think this is gonna be the director's big break.
finally

Hell, he met me for the first time, I agreed to be the Director of Photography for a 48 hour short film festival marathon and won 2nd prize for best technical achievement.

This could be the start of something big...

Hybernate

Hybernate
Originally uploaded by hellophotokitty.

I guess I'll be hiding for a while...
...

Naaah.
I won't be gone for too long. My writing is my therapy, it keeps me sane and connected to the real world.

I mean, with my camera broken and all, writing is all I really have to stay sane, and God knows I will need to stay sane for the next 4 weeks...

I'll be back.
A few more stories.

I have discovered Beckett.
This guy kicks serious theater ass

Today's astro info - full moon rising

Bloody fucken migraine.
I've had it for the past 3 days and I suspect tension.
The upcoming stress of mom's chemo, my stress about not having a solid job and still having to get my shit in order (ya, that comes with the stress and headache of finding the best price for a camera...) the stress over the past few days to meet deadlines for art festivals. It's all piling up, and it's all in my head.

Literally.


Just just got an email from my Swedish babe chicklet - she is due in September!!
I really hope she comes to full term. She has been so unlucky in the past few years. It would be so amazing - and I would be an auntie.

Speaking of aunties - I am one as of last Sunday. My little cousin had a baby. This is my little cousin with whom I used to sing Karaoke (and back in the early 70's it had not even been discovered yet) to old Rolling Stones and Tom Jones Lp's, my little cousin with whom I used to ride elevator in my grandmother's closet with, my little cousin with whom we devised magic potion to keep flies away from dog shit (it was made with an old solution of Lilt Home Perm, 30 year old bath salt blocks, French Formula hairspray, and whatever we could find in my grandmother's bathroom basement (which would have been an anthropologist's delight!). My little cousin - little L. The girl who was my most convenient younger sister - because as soon as I went home, she became my cousin again.

What kind of a great deal was that?

So back to the migraine...

Pills pills pills and icepacks for the neck.
caffeine in pills, caffeine in cups.
ice ice ice

It's not helping much, but I'm lucid enough to type this
barely.


So here we go again - looking to the stars for guidance.

Sounds like a promising weekend.

not!


Friday, 14th April 2006

ARIES (Mar 21 - Apr 20)
So, you think you know where the limits lie, do you? You are sure about what is or isn't possible, are you? You've looked at your current situation from every angle and you've appraised it accurately, have you? Sorry to take a slightly confrontational tone. It's just that events, this weekend, intend to be similarly challenging in the way that they require you to rethink the boundaries and barriers in your world. Something surprisingly exciting is attainable. Despite recent misgivings, you'll soon have reason to feel very enthusiastic.

Ignition

Ignition engaged

Take off successful...


sometimes when I'm mildly manic (but is this really manic? I can remember a time when my meds were workimg and I was feeling great - not because I was manic, not because the meds were swishing around in my brain, but because things seemed genuinely hopeful. Things felt right. There was an opening in the cloudy skies, solutions were becoming clear, and there was a slight glimmer of hope for the future.

Quarter to Two and I am feeling this right now.

I have spent the past 3 hours looking up calls for entries for photography shows. The web is great for that - a link to a link to a link...

Found so many great places to enter - some which were pricy, but others which were actually free (the best kind). I had a look at my pix again - the blue series, and realized just how powerful they really are. Somebody on flickr was so moved by them, he started his own group called -vulnerability (at least I think, it's too late to check now, will do that later). He wrote me this beautiful message that almost brought tears to my eyes.

It just blows me away each time somebody says that my photos (my little photos) inspire, frighten, excite or educate them.
a) I never thought that something I used to do just because it was fun would amount to anything that would be of any use to anybody
and
b) that my work would touch somebody so much that they would feel so compelled to tell me and thank me for doing so.

hmm

that's so fucken cool...

So I am on my way to bed, exhausted and run down, getting ready for the Easter weekend (just means more things will be closed for longer) and then pack on Sunday night and get ready to spend time while mom starts her chemo (interferon) on Monday.

Worry worry worry.

I am trying not to do too much of that cause I feel the ground beneath beginning to shift. Things are happening, the sleeping buds on trees are beginning to stir.

I hope it's a new beginning.

Let's make it a new beginning...

In baiting a mousetrap

with cheese, always

leave room for the

mouse

SAKI

challenge your beliefs

challenge your beliefs
Originally uploaded by jecate.

I met Jen while I was in Seattle a few weeks ago. She is such a beautiful person and a great source of inspiration for me, and I am sure, for many other people as well...

I had read a book based on the writings of st.john of the cross entitled "Dark night of the soul". The term and metaphysicality of the phrase "dark night of the soul" are taken from the writings of the Spanish poet and Roman Catholic mystic Saint John of the Cross, a Carmelite priest in the 16th century. Dark Night of the Soul is the name of both a poem, and a commentary on that poem, and are among the Carmelite priest's most famous writings. They tell of his mystic development and the stages he went through on his quest for holiness.

a further definition is taken from Wikepedia:

"Dark Night of the Soul" is a term used to describe a specific phase in a person's spiritual life. It is used as a metaphor to describe the experience of loneliness and desolation that can occur during psychic or spiritual growth.

The "dark night" could generally be described as a letting go of our ego's hold on the psyche, making room for change that can bring about a complete transformation of a person's way of defining his/her self and their relationship to God. The interim period can be frightening, hence the perceived "darkness". In the Christian tradition, during the "dark night" one who has developed a strong prayer life and consistent devotion to God suddenly finds traditional prayer extremely difficult and unrewarding for an extended period of time. The individual may feel as though God has suddenly abandoned them, or that their prayer life has collapsed.

Rather than being a negative event, the dark night is believed by mystics and others to be a blessing in disguise where the individual is trained to grow from vocal and mental prayer, to a deeper contemplative prayer of the soul. Particularly in Christianity, it is seen as a severe test of one's faith. The Dark Night comes in two phases: a first "Night of the Senses," and a second "Night of the Spirit."

Depression is another form of 'a dark night of the soul", and it need not necessairly be a bad thing. At times, overwhelming, but if one is strong enough, it can be a space where self-discovery grows from emptyness.


"Dark Night of the Soul" is a term used to describe a specific phase in a person's spiritual life. It is used as a metaphor to describe the experience of loneliness and desolation that can occur during psychic or spiritual growth.

In this mystic's writing, his approach ideology of suffering seems more akin to early Islamic or Judaic works in its more direct route to communication to God, teaching us to look at the horrors and joys of the world, the cycles of birth and death, the wars and destructions as a natural process of life and something to embrace rather than fear.

Hostess cakes - nexus of the universe

Hostess cakes - nexus of the universe
Originally uploaded by hellophotokitty.

On a lighter note...

Seattle is the home of Hostess Cakes.
Who knew?

Every time I'd make my way down to the art festival gallery, I'd smell the vanilla breeze from up the block.

I made my way around the plant several times, looking for dumpsters, anything. But I guess their waste management is pretty strick.

Not a golden crumb to be found anywhere...

drifting in a sea of corpses

E is listening to his strange "noise" music on his walkman.
I hear the occasional ping and pop followed by a weird shrill.

"noise" it is, and I find it quite distracting.

I am usally alone when I type during one of my typing marathons.
Alone and quiet - only the clack clack of my fingers on the plastic keys -
that is somehow soothing
reminding me that I can find solace and refuge in my words that I convey to you,
my readers -
and to you -
myself - me...

I saw a disturbing movie last night - Shame by Ingmar Bergman.
Bergman is one of my favorite all time filmmakers in the world.
This film was different from the rest of his works.
It was quite disturbing.
Very disturbing in fact.

I woke up this morning with images, sounds - snippets from the black and white subtitled 2 hour visual and auditory session
existential residue on my mind map of consciousness.


Well, what's this movie about?
In short - can I sum it up in 30 words or less?

Gritty, brutal and supple, Ingmar Bergman's Shame (1968) stands as one of the best antiwar films ever made, a fact made more amazing by its relative lack of notoriety, even among Bergman aficionados. With a particular and refreshing abstention from art-house navel-gazing, Shame is an apolitical home-front horror show where life during wartime slowly shifts from existing in a state of petty complacency to, literally, drifting in a sea of corpses. Focusing exclusively on the way war unsettles and corrupts the lives of civilians, Bergman's film scans on a primal level like a "Twilight Zone" episode gone unstoppably, sickeningly real.

And I couldn’t have said it better myself.

I suggest you see it, if only to say you watched a Bergman film.

And yes, you might wake up with the same kind of morning breath dream sludge that is hauntingly difficult to shake off that i am experiencing now.


***

My mom's chemo starts on the 17th.

Life is going to change for us - life as we have known it up till now will shift. A foreign element will shake up and invade our daily routines, routines which we have come to treasure as ritual, normal and constant.

A foreign invader - aggressive and ready for battle.
We must be ready to flight or concede defeat.

I guess that's where the film comes in.

I have woken up with my Scandinavian colored glasses -
(bought at Ikea...lol)
and the world seems a tad bit sharper than usual.


I'll have to stay with her while she adjusts to the chemicals - gauge how ill she'll become, how weak she'll be, how much discomfort it will cause her.
The treatment will last for four weeks - taking us into mid - May.
Summer will be close by.

thank God for that

At least that.

***


I wish I had a guitar.

I used to be quite good at playing guitar - flamenco to be exact.
Good, well I am being modest.
go ahead - you so rarely boast about your abilities.

I was quite talented - at the age of 14, my teacher urged me to take a university exam which would have allowed me to actually teach as a certified instructor.

Did I ever follow through?
Naaah.
I got scared and she got pregnant.

One project ends, another begins.


I played for my own pleasure until a few years later when my father re-claimed my classical guitar. My only guitar. I didn't have enough $ to buy a new one, and by the time I did, the more important things in life such as balloon pants, pointy shoes and mesh tops were at the top of my priority list.

Ahh. Gotta love the 80's.


I came across some old music books the other day, one in particular that she had stolen for me from school. Spiral binding partially untwisted at the ends, worn pages yellowed, reproduced hand written notes alongside Spanish and Italian words woven in between passing tones and a perfect cadence.

Romance De Amor by Vicente Gomez .


I remember the first time I played this piece - in its entirety. Tears streamed down my cheeks as every note reverberated throughout the wooden body held close to my chest ; each note seemed so familiar to me. My fingers swept effortlessly across the warmed wood, the sweet smell of cedar taken in with each strum.


...

Good Lord.
That sounds so wretchedly romantic.
euck

but romantic it was - the mood, the tempo, the harmony.


Vivaldi was my favorite.
Perhaps it was the bittersweet melancholy and simplicity of his Guitar Concerto In D Major that moved me the most; but each time I heard that piece, a profound sense of resignation, akin to what I imagine a peaceful acceptance of death would feel like, consumed me.

Death.
Resignation,
acceptance.

War?

the deterioration of a relationship?
finding out that death is enviable part of life?

realizing that perhaps there is no God?
that there is no such thing as salvation?



I guess this Bergman film is effecting me more that I thought it would.

God?

God?
Originally uploaded by solea.

I think there is a God, or at least someone who is watching over my mom.

We went to see her oncologist today. He is wonderful, sweet and funny. Caring and smart as hell. He told her that she has options - chemo for one month industrial strength, or chemo for one month and booster shots 3 times a week for a year. There is no guarantee that it will work, but at this point, it's better to try than not to try.

It was also my birthday.
A day that I was dreading in so many ways. But as luck would have it, my mom, her best friend and I spent most of the afternoon giggling like school girls, had an amazing pasta lunch and I got so many kick ass gifts from everybody who loves me, that going to seal my mom's eventual fate and faith in medicine made it that much smoother.

38.

Where do I go from here?
How do I get there?
Is there a God, and if so, will he stop to help someone like me?

Down we fall, straight ahead.

Down we fall, straight ahead.
Originally uploaded by cffleischmann.

We find out Tuesday what will happen to my mom as in terms of her chemo. One year? One month intensive? We don't know.

Just when I thought it was safe to put my feet down again, we are on the move - "down we fall, straight ahead" - that is how I feel right now.

Tuesday will be my birthday.
I am going with my mom to the doctor. It might be one of the most difficult birthdays in my life.

I am not looking forward to this year.

One step forward, 10 steps back.

Tied to the railway tracks, my skin can feel the vibrations of the train miles and miles away...

Back from the west coast!

Well, I am back - three hours behind everybody this side of the world, exhausted but very happy.

The festival was great, Seattle was great, met great people and had a wonderful time.

I am soo pooped but have lots to talk about.
So I will come back when I have a little more energy and sleep under my belt :-)

here is my scope for this week.
I had to laugh - apparently I was the belle of the ball at the festival...

lol



Your Week Ahead - Saturday, 25th March 2006
ARIES (Mar 21 - Apr 20)

Your week ahead: You have more friends, more fans, more admirers than you realise. You don't have to mount a campaign to earn approval from others. You just have to be yourself. If a relationship is now starting to prove difficult, it could be because you are trying too hard to understand someone - or worrying too much about whether they understand you. Worry less. If you are struggling to get to grips with a situation that does not make much sense, stop struggling. Stop trying. Venus and Mars are in harmony and the Moon is new in your sign this week. Just have more faith in your own natural charm and intelligence - for it will yet see you safely through from here to success.

Creepy-ness factor moved up a notch today...

I know some people scoff at this stuff, but I love it, and usually only look back on it at the end of the day to see if the 'predictions' were correct.

but this one just hit too close to my psychic antenna...


Monday, 20th March 2006

ARIES (Mar 21 - Apr 20)
Not everyone has to agree with you. Not even you have to agree with yourself all the time - but, sooner or later, you eventually work it out. What you may soon discover is just how prophetic you've been at predicting your own life, despite the mental and emotional turmoil you've been through lately. On one level it may seem like you've been getting accurate images of your future. Looked at another way, you've been taking your visions and, by some mysterious process you may not understand, you've been making those images real.

There's a word for it: imagination.

So that is what that crazy buzzing in my head and fluttery flutters in my belly are!

Meat Loaf

Leaving for Seattle in a few days and I am excited as all hell.

Nervous as all hell, but let's try not to think about that right now (she says while looking over the mass of stray post-it notes hanging on for dear life from various edges of her computer screen, filing cabinet, edges of framed prints...).

I feel scattered right now, but it's a good creative scattered. The kind of energy that makes things happen, the kind of energy that artists thrive on.

Speaking of artists, I had a wonderful weekend watching films - art film fest here, and what I saw inspired me beyond words and film stock. I saw one tonight about Ingmar Bergman. My idol.

When I first saw Persona back in 1984 in my first college film class, I was blown away. I had been fed a regular diet of all American 'slap on the fat' boring and staid plotlines and high gloss appearance, but when I saw Bergman's stark, profound and disturbing portrait of two women, in black and white, I was smitten. He quite literally changed the way I looked at cinema forever, and inspired me to use the medium the way he did - with passion, curiosity and reverence.
That is the first time I realized that I wanted to be a filmmaker. I had known for some time that I wanted to be in showbiusess, but it always seemed to be a toss up between acting, dancing and music. Film seemed strangely off limits, until I saw his films.

After Bergman was Fellini, Renais, Truffaut, Ozu, Antonioni, Wenders and the list goes on and on. After seeing these films - especially one of my top 5 films - 32 Short Films About Glen Gould, again at this festival on Friday night, there were those stirring feelings inside of my belly - the rustlings and cracklings of a fire starting.

the kind of feeling I had when I was on the road to make my films.
That creative rush that I have longed for.

I decided that this is where I have to focus my energies right now. I was telling my best buddy the other day - I have all these sparks, shards and slivers of things that have been happening to me (strange coincidences, people I have been meeting, the things I have been seeing) are stirring up this energy, and I need to channel it into a positive source. Like a meat grinder or wood chipper - in the begining, it's all the same material added in but in different forms and sizes, but in the end, they all come out neatly packed together - beef only becomes ground beef - it doesn't change it's inherent properties.

So that is what I am planning to do - put all of this crazy energy, excitement about my trip, the growing pains I am having about finding my new purpose and direction in life, (and my birthday coming up) - and throw it in the meat grinder.

And when I come back from my trip, I intend to make some kick ass meatloaf!

Birthday Suit

Birthday Suit
Originally uploaded by gillianleigh.

This is such a lovley photo from such a lovley lady - gillianleigh !!

What she wrote struck me the most.
I think I'll put in the same request for my upcoming birthday and see what happens...


Here's what she wrote...
"its my birthday today, and i feel fine!

i took this picture during a particularly rough period of time last year....was asking the universe to bring some light and new energy into my life, which it was kind enough to do. i look at this now and see a mini-renaissance, an awakening, a welcoming to a new year. very thankful for the beautiful and sublime and sometimes messy - but always interesting - things in my life :) yay!'


You go girl!!!

The leap...

I have come across lots of things latley on the subject of taking a leap. A really beautiful soul on flickr made a poster for me. I saw it the other day. It was so beautiful, it made me cry.



And then I read this.

Kinda freaked out in a good way...
My astro forecast for today

Weird


You push yourself way too hard sometimes, and it doesn't help that you set a standard of perfection that you can rarely meet. Current circumstances are allowing you to let go of some of that obsession. You now have an opportunity to jump over the mental resistance that does little other than slow you down and burn your energy. While there's no substitute for analysis when the time comes, there is also no substitute for intuition. There is a crucial matter, applying to your health, well-being or possibly your work - it's time to take that intuitive leap and make the adjustments that will help settle your life.

slutting for sunshine

I am such a weather whore.

My mood fluctuates with the weather. The insides of my brain compress or decompress according to the shifts in the barometric pressure.

It's hell being at the mercy of the elements.

When it's sunny outside, and it does not matter if it's cold or hot, I come alive. The cells inside of my body begin to vibrate, and in turn, make me feel incredibly alive. If I had a hat, I would pull one of those Mary Tyler Moore moves where she throws up her hat while standing on a busy downtown street. Right down to the freeze frame on the hat in mid air.*

When it's sunny outside, I am able to wake up early. Sometimes really early (well, for me that is) - like 6am early. Even the cats are surprised when I prance into the kitchen for their morning feed. They're usually still asleep, stunned that I am not shouting at them to keep quiet from meowning up a storm.

When it's sunny outside, the whole house could crumble to pieces, and I'd still have a smile no my face. Why?? Because my skin is drinking in all that vitamin D and my eyes are getting enough light to shine away the darkness of any residual bad mood that was a hang over from the night before.

And what happens when it's grey and rainy?

I turn into a monster.

I have known this for a long time - my sensitivity to light and the elements, but it was not until after I had my breakdown, and my 'mental state' was moderated by medication that we discovered a correlation between my 'winter blues' and my mood. I tried 'light therapy' which was new back then (talking about 10 years ago) and it seemed to work wonders. Every morning (usually the same time every morning was the best) I would sit in front of a light box the size of my monitor, and go about my morning rituals - eating, reading, putting on makeup etc. And for 1/2 hour every morning, I would get my 'fake sunlight' which would trick my system into thinking that I was having 'real sunlight', which would, in turn, make my body begin to produce and metabolize the vitamin D that usually came from real sunlight. Sunlight+ vitamin D = better mood.

Well, it worked in theory, but in principle, it was not as flawless.

I am a night person by nature. I get my 2nd, 3rd, 14th wind after midnight. I have tried several times during my lifetime to re-switch my clock, but have failed miserably. Just as bats usually flight only at night, I work my best when the sun goes down and the moon comes up. But the late nights turn into late mornings because I end up trying to recoup my 'lost sleep' and push it into the afternoon. Waking up at noon or 1pm is not unusual for me, but what I accomplish in the few hours between midnight and 4 am is what a 'normal person' would accomplish in an 8 hour day.

Winter and the early days of spring tend to be the worst. It's either snowing or raining. It's cold and damp (which does not bode well for my already aching joints), which a happy camper it does not make (I am never able to pull off those funny mixed up - Elizabethan sounding tenses, but you know what I mean...) . Today is the perfect example.

I was up (not willingly) at 6am. It was still grey, wet and overall shitty. I could have gone back to sleep, and wanted to as I only had 4 hours of sleep under my heavy eyelids, but the cats, sensing my stirrings, through they would try shake an early feeding from me. I pulled the pillow over my head and drifted in and out of a choppy slumber.

E left at 8ish, and that woke me up a bit. The cats decided to become affectionate and walk all over my body, finally settling down near my stomach and feet respectively. I knew that the second wave of sleep would be the heaviest, but I could not resist. The warm duvet that kept my twisted in the sheets body comfortable was more inviting than the below pleasant body temperature environment that waited for me in the rest of the house.

So I slept.
Hard.

The alarm came on at 10. 11am, then 12:30pm. The hunger pangs were stronger than the guilt ones, so I pulled myself out of bed and made my way into the kitchen. I didn't even have to look outside to know that it was going to be one of those days...

I could have done my light box thing, but the drawback to starting it later in the afternoon is my schedule re-sets itself at a later time. So there is no real point of doing it anyway. I would still be up until 2am regardless.

So I am sitting here, starting my late day, with a whole shitload of deadlines and things to do, which now seem unbelievably overwhelming, and will go about the rest of my 'things to do' list and feel shitty for the rest of the night because I have wasted a day sleeping. My only hope is that 2mrw will be a sunny day so I can open my eyes to light which will flood my blood stream and brain stem with gumption and optimism to be able to tackle the subsequent shitty days until the next nice one comes by again.






* now who remembers seeing that Family Guy episode when Peter does the same thing, and despite him being 'frozen', the rest of the world continues to move around him...
Now that was funny.

Lactulose intolerant

Well, well well.
Just when I thought things could not get any more interesting in my life, or ironic, I find myself in the hospital the other day - the emergency ward hooked up to all kinds of lines and wires while a doctor peers down at me and says: you know, this is very rare for people to react to this kind of medication the way you did, very rare indeed.

I was having a severe and almost life threatening reaction to a medication that is so widely used, even my 85 year old grandmother has used it.

Leave it to me and my Sienfeld-esque life - events like this just seem to fall into my lap. And now, a few days later, I laugh at the irony - I am so special, I am one of a miniscule percentage of the population that is allergic to some preservative that is found in a common stool softener/constipation reliever.

I told you my life was weird...

Nothing dramatic as a bee sting, peanut allergy (not that I am dismissing their severity - those are potentially life threating) - an allergic reaction to something that makes you shit.

shit!

As I lie in the resuscitation room, and was about 20 minutes out of danger, the nurse looked at the intern who was supervising my blips and heart beats and said: Lactulose? That's just water + sugar = candy!

So apparently a medication that was supposed to be as harmless as a chocolate bar triggered a reaction in my body so severe, my blood pressure dropped to a dangerous low, developed a rash that covered most of my face, arms and chest and began to close my throat to such a degree that I was unable to swallow and had begun to gasp for breath as my throat began to close.

how fucked up is that!?

I was feeling kinda woozy after the first tablespoon, and knew that this was not normal. I hopped on the internet and went to all my medical sites, but could not find anything more than if you experience cramping, vomiting or sharp pains in the abdomen, seek medical attention. At this point, I was feeling faint, was spacing out way too much, and began to lose control of my hand and leg muscles.

High Alert. This is not NORMAL!

I began to panic a little, but figured that it was something similar to the Benylin high I experienced as a kid - took a little too much of the stuff to calm a bad cough, and not being able to find a tablespoon in the middle of the night, and way to sick to go on a cutlery expedition, I just too a swig and fell back into bed.

a swig as in a swig from a mickey of Gin...
The next thing I know, I am awake and floating around the room in a stoned stupor that would rival Cheech Marin's best trip.

At first, I panicked (I was only 11 - had not yet tried cannabis) and was thinking of waking my mom to rush me to the hospital, but as I began to relax, I realized that I was high as a kite and began to enjoy my free ride. I spent the rest of the night doing somersaults on my bed, surprised that my thuds of my feet hitting the wall didn't wake anybody up.

But this was different...

Over the years and after numerous hospital calls and bouts of all that can ail someone, I have come to know my body well - like a well oiled machine, the slightest tick or rumble will alert me to take stock, slow down and examine the inner workings as best as I can.

It was only after the 4th site did I see a list of my symptoms - and in bold - if experiencing these symptoms, seek medical attention immediately - this may be the beginning of a serious allergic reaction.

Yummy.

By this time, I was beginning to worry about my inability to swallow and the accelerating speed of which the room was spinning. I turned off my computer, trying hard to keep my composure while feeling my way along the walls into my bedroom.

One thing I have learned after all my emergency room calls is - always bring a clean pair of underwear and a toothbrush. I have spent countless first nights in the hospital, cursing myself because I felt like I had lived in my panties for a week, and had a tongue that felt like an unpaved road. So despite my stumbling, and shallow breathing, I made sure to prepare myself.

The breathing became more labored as the seconds went by. I tried to ask E to call 911, but found that I was losing my voice, and that experiencing air through a shrinking airway was not a wise thing to do. He insisted on driving me, despite my pleas for an alternative solution. I realize that he was trying to help, and I thank him for that. It worried me because a) had I gone into shock, and was not able to breathe at all, the paramedics would have had an epi-pen to calm the initial stages of the reaction, and had some O2 for me to suck on, but their reaction time in the past (like when I began to hemorrhage internally after having some surgery to remove some gunk in my gallbaldder region) has been slow at best. He made a judgment call and it was the right one - but he could have burned through more red lights - especially at a crosswalk where there is absolutely nobody in sight for miles. It looked like a scene from a movie. He is waiting for the light to change, (it had just turned red) and I sat in the seat next to him, groping at my throat with my other hand on the front of his jacket pulling him towards me, whispering angrily - BURN THE LIGHT! BURN THE FUCKEN LIGHT!

Yea, movie material...
Woody Allen and Bette Midler

So to make a long story short, I flopped on the nearest bed on wheels and began to fade in and out of consciousness. I was wheeled in right away - take her to recess 1 . Resuscitation room. I know the jargon already.

And as I lie there, my body going numb, face tingling, lips puckering on their own (that was so weird!! ) struggling for my next breath, one of the ER docs grabs my arm and plunges a needle into my vein and begins to pump in some Benadryl. I didn't know which was worse - the feeling that my arm was about to be ripped open or the fact that I could not breathe! I still have a nasty bruise on my forearm to prove it!

So after being asked 100 questions (I have the routine down pat - I actually cut down question time by having all my meds and medical history typed out on a little card stuck in my wallet. It's a real hit with the attending staff wow! You're so organized! is what I'm often told), I began to sleep and drift in and out of dreamland while the medication began to kick in.

I spent a good 5 hours in the emerg - being downgraded from the recess room to hallway, which was a good thing. It was 4:30am by the time E drove us home. We were both glad to be back - a hallway is not the Holiday Inn. The next morning, I felt as if I had been twice overed by a steam roller. It was not until yesterday that I began to feel like I was a 3 dimensional human being again.

And today - more medical appointments. I have something funky going on in the upper right side of my stomach. I had my gallbaldder removed, so unless I have a phantom gallbladder making imaginary stones, I don't know what this is. I thought it was menstrual cramps (because the pain goes down pretty low) but the doctors are stumped. I was rushed into an abdominal ultrasound this morning, watched as the technician hummed and hawed while scanning my belly and ovaries. There were to pauses and clicks to be 'normal'. They found something but they didn't really tell me much - it's just a preliminary report they said. It didn't make me feel any better.

So next week, I am off to see an allergist, then to my GP for my ultrasound and results of my blood workup. And all of this a week before I go to Seattle. Not to mention 3 weeks before my 38th birthday.

Did I say 38th? I meant 33rd...

And I have a brand new Epi-pen to take with me wherever I go.

I misplace my keys al the time - and they are on a huge round keychain - superintendent huge. Perhaps I will have to attach the Epi-pen around my neck.
Ralph Lauren - look out! Hpk has just made a new fashion statement!

NYC

NYC
Originally uploaded by Lemoox.

I almost fell off my chair when I saw this.

Lemoox you kill me!!
Not only do you make the most amazing and beautiful paintings, you have a wonderful sense of humour that always makes me smile - a grin from ear to ear!!!

Words of inspiration from good old Fred.

"There is no end. There is no beginning. There is only the infinite passion of life"



Frederico Fellini


.

Happy happy, oi oi.

This sounds really cool.

As I sit here under my artificial/simulated sun lamp, I wonder if I will ever get the 'real job' I have been waiting for, if I'll ever find the energy to really make a move - get off my ass to do something about it?!

I think I need a life coach - somebody to whip my ass into shape (visions of Burgess Meredith in Rocky) and help me to find the right tactic, game plan to get back on track and win!

When I went to the last school reunion (the follow up from last year's big 25th) last month, I sat with an old friend of mine. I think I mentioned her in previous posts - she adopted me because I was an only child and she had 2 brothers 4 sisters -

but
I digress.

She was my biggest advocate - she really pulled me out of my shell in high school. It's thanks to her that I entered CEGEP with a bold smile and 'ready to conquer the world' spirit.

And as we reminisced about the good old days, she spoke of my recent works - my blogs, my photos, my movies:

HPK - your photos are breathtaking, your writing is amazing - your films are fantastic! What do you want to do? Yes, you can do all of them and love all of them, but I think you need to pick one and focus!
but I love all of them, and want to do them all, and for the first time in my life, I am agreeing with your positive feedback! I am good at all of them!

and I have tried to, I've attempted to sort, pick, work at that , but shit happens -
life throws you a few curve balls (too many in my case) some manic depression thrown in for good measure - just to keep things interesting, and then presto - you find yourself 28 days from your 38th birthday and a big fat tail between your legs and a huge neon sign that says - loser over your head.

I've been doing a lot of cleaning - house/mental/personal stuff. (The physical will come later when I am strong enough for a good colon cleansing and a little fasting) There are some things that are harder to get rid of than others - the main one being the view I hold of myself.

I re-read this blog (thank God I decided to keep it! My memory is so shot lately!) and go over some of the amazing accomplishments I have achieved in the past year - two amazing projects where I did some kick ass cinematography, three amazing trips to NYC (by myself!) and a play.

A fucken play
a play that should out 13 out of 14 shows
a play that was the talk of the town
a play that took the fringe festival by storm
a play that was actually the career launch for many actors


and what am I doing with all of this?
nothing

it's so sad when I think about it, but I can't seem to make it work for me. How do you sell a product when you are not even sure that it works/is up to what you make it to be?

who is this voice of despair and judgment and how do I keep it quiet?!

(I laugh as I have a visual of the play when Samantha tells Charlotte to stick a sock in it - and Peter actually shoving a sock in her mouth. Now that was funny...)

So what to do?

I've had waaay too much strong coffee (can you say industrial cleanser?) and am waiting for some smelly dirty French men to lug a bureau (that is so long, it seems to go on forever) up my 3 flights of Escher-like stairs.

I am antsy and worried.

Some people say that my mom's cancer/tumor was because she had pent up anger towards her sister and ex husband, along with other 'pent ' up angers. That sounds legit. The anger and bad energy in the body has to go somewhere; but I wonder where my anxiety and worry will go to? I think that I might have some sort of brain malfunction one day - too much going on in there at one time - too much noise

can somebody please turn the sound down or change the channel?

but please - no elevator music or soft rock
I'd rather scrape my eyes out

And the winner is...

Hmm.
Oscars tonight - I wonder who will win what?

I am usually pumped about the Oscars, but today and for the past day I have been feeling kind of defeated, lost out to some other half-assed rogue chemical who is reeking havoc on my body.

Why do I feel so crappy?
When will this rollercoaster ride slow down?
When will I get a hold of myself and get down to business?

I am just feeling shitty -
- despite the fact that it's beautiful outside,
- despite the fact that I got a whole new wardrobe (including two kick ass coats and a beautiful pair of Hush Puppies Boots for only 5$) at a second hand store last night- tax in for $50!
- despite the fact that I have it better than most people (but then again, in some things I don't, but I won't go there...)

why?

I was doing some introspection last night - asking some hard hitting questions that I have been avoiding since the beginning of winter. Questions like:
where do I get all this negative energy from?
where is the root of all of this, and when I find it, can I remove it for good?
will I always be fighting these demons?
can I pinpoint exactly where these 'negative' filters have come from?


I did some digging - and it was interesting the correlations I managed to see between a and b:
my need for approval stems from the fact that I was always expected to fail when I was a kid
Although my parents wanted the best for me, and had hope that I would turn out to be an upstanding citizen, I was always considered to be the worst case scenario. An accident waiting to happen. so what did you break now? What have you done now? You know, you are not going to be able to finish what you started - like you always do...

I think the world always' can be such a toxic word. It holds so much potential - for promise and failure. It builds up such expectations, so many absolutes that can be hard to escape.
You will always be the same - you'll never change

aha, the word never. Another toxic soup of nouns and concensus.

You'll never change
you'll never get your shit together
you'll never go anywhere
you'll never graduate
you'll never get your life in order
you'll never succeed
you'll never finish what you've started


I have mapped it out to the following -

I was a dreamer - full of visions and outlandish ideas -
I was always thining of was to bring these things to life -
I was only a kid so therefore I had no real concept of impossibilities -
I spoke to people about my ideas and was distraught when I was told it's impossible, it will never happen, you won't be able to do that... -
I became devastated when I was shown the impossibilities and the outrageousness of my ideas -
I felt stupid because how could I expect to do /think/want something so ssilly/outrageous/impossible ?
so therefore - my 'dreams' were nipped in the bud before any steps to a solution/alternative were even presented/explored.


wow.
heavy shit

I wanted some input, encouragement to follow my dreams, but all I got was negative input, and discouragement because I could never pull it off (because of my track record for failure) so I was not encouraged to even explore the possibilities!

track record of failure
What kid does not have a track record of failure?
isn't' that what being a kid is all about?!

so now what?

So now what...

I've read a lot about healing the inner child and for the longest time thought that was such bullshit, but now am wondering if there is some validity in it. Would telling my inner child that you had the right to try things and fail - that was all part of growing up, and nobody should have faulted you for exploring! You are free of what your parents think, what anybody else thinks - you are your own person now. You have come a long way. You have been hurt and blamed for many things, but now, I'm here to tell you that I love you and you are just perfect and I love you for who you are.


On the surface, it sounds like a bunch of new age shlock. What does my inner child care - I mean, do I actually have one?! I'm going to be fucken 38 years old!! How can part of me still be a child when my face is starting to wrinkle, my body is gearing up for perio-menopausal stage and I have enough memories and experiences to write two series of encyclopedias of life experiences!

Have I silenced my own inner child?
Am I ashamed of my own inner child?


shit

Lots of heavy stuff to sort out.




After years of therapy and introspection, I have figured out why I have done, lived, reacted, believed the things that I believed were right in the past. I've sorted out why I went after 'all the wrong men", 'why I needed to make my life miserable" because I had this self fulfilling prophecy that I was doomed to fail because I couldn't do was right in the eyes of others - but there is still a child that hurts. A little voice that just won't go away creeps into my head when confusion and thoughts of panic seep into my consciousness. I know it's silly, and I know that it's not reasonable, and my analytical mind tries to sort it out and put it away, but she keeps coming back.

How do you begin to heal a child who has been damaged beyond repair?
Can she ever heal?
Will she ever be able to understand?

I guess this is the next step of my journey.
Turning inward to fins my spiritual center has put me in touch with this innocent child.
Is that what our spiritual centers are? A child who is perfect, in awe the world around it, fearless and open to life as only a child can be?


wonder wonder


Can I re-birth this thing? This child?
And if so, how painful/pleasurable will it be?

Everybody!

Everybody! - Go ahead, view it LARGE!!
Originally uploaded by hellophotokitty.

This is my little dedication I put together for all my flickr friends who have been so supportive of me during this whole time my mother and I were going through the cancer thing.

I am constantly in awe by how amazing this community is - all those people, all that love and positive energy! It really worked wonders for both of us.

Photography Lesson...

I stumbled upon this site (don't ask me how - I already have 20 windows open, and trying to trace back the steps is getting me dizzy - these pretzels are making me thirsty!!!** ) but I had to share (and make a mental note for myself).

For a real interesting look at photography around the world and other places:

it's called Conscientious - a weblog about photography, art, and life.


check it out - expand your mind. Discuss.

I will be back on the weekend to talk about my synchronous week (and what my Psychic advisor told me...)



** Do I have to tell you who said this? lol

Once more - with feeling.

Hmm. Synchronicities, coincidences, chance events - it seems that every time I allow myself to open up to the powers of the universe, things just happen to fly in my direction. Weird things like people who call me that I have not spoken to in years, a certain obscure song that pops on the radio when I had just been thinking about it a few hours ago, coming across something on the street - like when I was in Grand Central Station in NYC, and I found one card, 2 of Hearts, just lying there, all alone waiting for me to pick it up. Did it have meaning? of course it did, but I wont go into that now, but there were these strange things that kept on happening when I kept myself open and put forth these questions like: am I going in the right direction? Am I making the right choices? Am I supposed to be here? And thankfully, it worked like a charm for my first, second and third time in NYC. Now today is just strange (I know, I have still to talk about what happened last Friday -all that Wayne Dyer stuff. And speaking of him - well, just read on...)

So today, went with my mom to see if her bandage needed to be fixed. Turns out she was in the wrong clinic at the wrong time. The doc took one look, said okay and that was it. Two hours and the headache of trying to find parking just for a 2 minute consult.

We went to the hospital cafeteria for some coffee. They serve Starbucks (or as I like to call it - Petroleiumbucks...) and I needed some java so I took the plunge. (its only kicking in now - I am a jittery mess. And the mild looked like mud. euch. I thought I was having cream with my coffee, not coffee with my cream!) My mom and I had a great talk. It seems like hospital cafeterias are just conducive to our 'peeling the onions' in our lives, which is all good.

So after some yapping, we went shopping (which was funny - so girly girly - spending waay too much time trying on the 1001 shades of lipstick from EVERY BRAND) and then she drove me home. On the way, we talked about how "things happen for a reason" and that sometimes we have to surrender to what feels right in our gut. To trust that the universe is looking out for you. I guess that is one way we are looking at her cancer - a second chance at life. It forced her to slow down, re-assess what is important in her life and make the required changes.

SOOO - I get home and my landlord (imagine Santa Clause with strawberry blonde hair and red nose from too much wine consumption) was tooling away in my toilet. We exchanged some hardware stories and antidotes and I went off to check my email. This is what I found in the one dumping at 2pm:

- an email from the susan jeffers site on an article called: EIGHT SIMPLE STEPS TO A MIRACLE
- my Daily Ohm about quiet intuition
- this really wild thing called the Ted prize.

Each year we will honor a maximum of three individuals who have shown that they can, in some way, positively impact life on this planet.

We are looking for inventors and entrepreneurs, designers and artists, visionaries and mavericks, protectors and persuaders. Our goal is to honor and empower these people by connecting them to the formidable resources of the TED community. Our prize-winners may be very different, but they will have this in common: They will be doing something that has extraordinary potential. Something whose positive influence could spread, transcending borders. Something that can contribute to the future of life on earth.

Rather than simply receiving financial support, winners of the TED Prize will be granted something extraordinary: something which children dream about, but which adults assume is merely the stuff of fairy-tales.
They will be granted a WISH to change the world.

They may wish for anything. And we will seek to make their wish come true.

We will allow our winners several months in which to formulate their wish. We want them to think big, and we want them to fully understand the range of resources the TED Community may be able to offer them. We are willing to spend -- in hard cash -- $100,000 on each winner. And our goal is to convert this into received value that is an order of magnitude greater. How?

By connecting our winners into the heart of the TED community
By tapping into the enthusiastic support of our team of sponsors and partners
By working with our winners to deliver something creative and big and bold and wonderful.

Now that in itself sounds really wild. The past winner was a woman documentary filmmaker...

- then an update from Barnes and Noble notifying me of a book 'that I might like"
And you ask (out of politeness) which book is that?
Well, I'll tell you.

Inspiration: Your Ultimate Calling

and the publisher's blurb:
Dr. Wayne Dyer wants us to listen up. He insists that there's a voice in the universe calling each of us to remember and live our purpose. In Inspiration, he explains how we can achieve our ultimate purpose by moving through the world of spirit to inspiration. Groundbreaking affirmations.

There's a voice in the universe calling each of us to remember our purpose, our reason for being here now, in this world of impermanence. The voice whispers, shouts, and sings to us that this experience of being in form, in space and time, knowing life and death, has meaning. The voice is that of inspiration, which is within each and every one of us. In this groundbreaking book, Dr. Wayne W. Dyer explains how we've chosen to enter this world of particles and form. From our place of origin, in ways that we don't readily comprehend now, we knew what we were coming here to accomplish, and we participated in setting this life process in motion. So why not think this same way? Why put the responsibility or blame on any one or any thing that's not a part of us? On Earth we have the capacity of volition we can choose, so let's assume that we had the same capacity when we resided in the spiritual realm. We chose our physical body, and we chose the parents we needed for the tdoesn'tIt doesn't seem too great a stretch to move into the idea that we chose this life in concert with our Source. Each chapter in this book is filled with specifics for living an inspired life. From a very personal viewpoint, Wayne Dyer offers a blueprint through the world of spirit to inspiration, your ultimate calling.

Hmm, sounds like all of these emails and notifications came at the same time, one after another is beyond a strange coincidence. Yea, I can hear all of the determinist out there saying stuff about free will, bla bla bla. Yea. I know, but how many things have to happen that seem like they are related to one another for you to say : yea, this is creepy - a little mjustthan jsut a chance.

But I digress.
I am bursting my own bubble...

So it's just strange - how I connected with that doc who is interested in seeing my film, putting me in touch with some doctors who specialize and research mental illness and creativity, and the fact that he wants me to show my film to a study patients paitents so I can tell them about my journey to hell and back.

hmm.

Well, im off to a vernisage - just because it feels right.

I will let you know how it turned out.

Boy, I can write alot...

I just looked at a snipped of the 674 emails that I have sent out over the past year and 1/2 .
I tried to read one, but it kept on going on and on and on...

And this stuff is not fluff either - pretty interesting and well composed stuff.

I guess when inspiration hits - you gotta roll with the punches!

Did I mention that one of my peices is going to be up for auction at the Seattle Erotic Arts Festival?
Nice yes, but I don't get a cut of the profits - but 60% goes to a charity.
But I don't care - it will be a really swanky event with lots of press. I am hoping that it will open some doors for me.

Fate opened a door for me in NYC - I think it just might be the same for Seattle. It'll be my first time to the west coast. I'll be leaving at the end of the month for about 6 days. I am kinda nervous, but hell. It's all about feeling the fear and doing it anyway!

So here I was thinking I was just gonna write a few words, but no. I go off ranting again.

I am just hoping that one day, all of this drivel will mash into a book that will sell millions!
Well, hundreds if I'm lucky...

lol

"Your visions will become clear only when your can look into your own heart. Who looks outside, dreams, who looks inside - awakes."


Carl Gustav Jung

I found Jesus...

Jesus Graffiti
Originally uploaded by DMStarr.

Sometimes in life, it's the small things that matter the most.

And sometimes, when God speaks to us, he leaves behind little clues, solutions to things that once seemed impossible to solve, tools to uncover answers to questions we thought were indecipherable.

Little clues
scattered breadcrumbs
along our path
as we find our way back home.

And sometimes,
back home is where
the answers

always were...


Thank you DMStarr for this beautiful image...

(can you find the word Jesus in the photograph)

Feel the coincidence and do it anyway...

Strange weekend.

Friday was just too bizarre.

I asked the universe for some answers, and I got hit in the head with one of those cartoon anvils - you know, the standard "Acme" type El coyote in the Bugs Bunny Cartoons - flying from the sky, crushing him into an accordion...

Well, after that afternoon, I took some anti-biotics to clear up some nasty infection, but luck would have it, these monster pills made me so sick, I have been in bed for the past 3 days.

I was supposed to go to a party last night. E went because he was part of the band, but I stayed behind, huddled under the covers, in front of the tube, cats pretending they were bookends on either side of my body. I slept on and off, feeling like a heap of wet rags, I went to bed early.
Midnight on a Saturday night is really early for me.

I woke up, stumbled around the house, heard E on the phone and made my way into the living room to find my cell phone. Trying to get my balance and shield my eyes from the afternoon sunlight, I felt my way into the shade towards the couch. Before I managed to sit down, I saw a book lying there.

It was a book that I lent to someone two years ago, a book that I have been waiting to get back for the longest time.

"Feel the Fear and Do It Anyway"

I had asked myself Monday night if I had the strength and conviction to stick to the course that my life is about to take - if I want it. If I can handle it. I took some quite time inbetween naps to roll it around in my mind.

And there is was - the answer. Staring me in the face was another breadcrumb on the way to my ultime goal that I have been secretly holding on to for so long - getting back into filmmaking.

feel the fear and do it anyway

I guess that strange coincidence answered my question.


***

off to sleep.
2mrw is a big day.
I will transcribe my Friday night dictation so I can post it here - make it real, readable.

Do it anyway...

Holy fire within you...

I just love it when coincidences, like the ones that happened to me today pop into my life.
I am so wired and exhausted that I can't even begin to get into it. I really want to - believe me, this is one of those quintessential 'life as a sienfeld episode' moments.

It really was...


and it all started this morning when I decided to stuff into my already overstuffed purse this book. I didn't believe it when I read it. Threw out a question to the universe - and low and behold, that boomerang smacked me up the side of the head, it nearly knocked me unconscious.

I have to share with you something taken from the first chapter of the book.

Dr. Wayne quotes an ancient Hasidic saying:


"when you walk across the fields with your mind pure and holy, then from all the stones, and all the growing things, and all animals, the sparks of their soul come out and cling to you, and then they are purified and become a holy fire in you."


and that fire was stoked today

and as of now, it burns brightly.

Forgot about this chapter

I have been so over my head with all kinds of things to do, I almost forgot this huge chunk of the story (heh. No pun intended.)

So here it is - the crater in her back. It's pretty shocking and didn't post the high resolution yet, but my mom is actually not freaked out by it, thinks it's quite interesting and considers it a battle scar that she wears proudly...

but as always, life tends to throw you a curve ball when you least expect it.

After seeing one oncologist today, he gave us some not so great news\prognosis. This is an excerpt from an email my mom wrote to her main surgeon explaining what happened and the kind of information she was given.

Unfortunately, doctor x did not have any alternatives for me. He did give me an option – interferon for one month through iv, followed by chemo 3 times/week for one full year, during which I would not be able to work. And to top things off, this treatment plan is designed for persons whose melanoma has spread to the lymph nodes. It does not improve survival chances for people like me whose melanoma has NOT spread to the lymph nodes. So, really there is not much point in going through the treatment.

We saw Doctor X today. He does not offer interferon for only one month. From what you had said, and what I had read, I believed that one month of interferon was definitely an option. But he says it is not. He did not seem very anxious to discuss any other treatment options. After waiting for 2 hours, my daughter and I were quite disappointed, because when I asked for his recommendation, he shrugged his shoulders. As you can imagine, after getting good news that the cancer had not spread, it seems that if it had in fact spread, I would have options. Now it seems that I do not.

And to top it all off, "the chance of increasing her chances of "survival" after a year of a chemo, which may not even be good for her, was only about 10%. So basically, regardless if she gets it or not, she's not in a very good situation, and it seems with this doctor, there is no middle ground.

Black or white.

I told her that it's in her best interest to get a 2nd opinion - "we do research, ask opinions, go from one dealer to another when we are buying a car to make sure we get the best deal, why can't you apply this to your health and prognosis? It is your body and your health! Shop around for the best and most feasable option for you!"

We are both in a mild state of shock right now, but the despair has turned into anger and frustration, which I beleive can be more productive in helping us find a solution and stir up the fighting spirit we need to fight this.

more updates soon.

(Feb 23rd)

Latest update - the surgeon who removed the tumor said that he would put us in touch with another surgeon at another hospital. If worse comes to worst, he will take her on himself. This guy is really gold.

The wound is about 8-% healed. I have to take another photo because it's just so freaky how the body regenerates itself.

what a ride...

crop circles

crop circles
Originally uploaded by hellophotokitty.

So here it is - the massive battle wound. She is being a real trooper. Even a day after the surgery, we were able to joke about it and it's potential uses - change purse, passport holder, spare key pouch, drink holder....

Yea, we're a pretty twisted family, but if you can't laugh about this kind of stuff...

Your greatest creation is the life you lead...

check out this movie...

Tarnation has to be one of the most compelling documentaries I have seen in a long long time.

Filmmaker Jonathan Caouette's documentary on growing up with his schizophrenic mother -- a mixture of snapshots, Super-8, answering machine messages, video diaries, early short films, and more -- culled from 19 years of his life.

It was quite uncanny, seeing images of Jonathan acting, hearing his voice talking about his mother, his memories exploding and melting before our eyes as a blur of sounds, of panic in motion.

It was quite uncanny to see images of somebody being subjected to shock therapy (a medium shot of the rubber mouthpiece inserted into the mouth to prevent the patient from biting on their own tongue), and to see an old clip intercut as part of this montage, an image hauntingly familiar to me. It was actually quite bizarre and bordering on creepy - a panic and fear stricken lost mind, groping and clawing at the air around him, that look of despondency, vapid thoughts, industrial whirring sounds that start from the base of the spine and throb incessantly behind you eye sockets.

And while watching those images, I remembered that moment all too well.

I wasn't the only one who felt that way

the movie was an hour and 45 minutes. From the opening to the closing credits, I sat riveted to my couch. The cats made my stomach their trampoline, my legs their feline labyrinth, but nothing could pull my attention away.

Sometimes in life, you reach a period when suffering seems like a solitary experience. The pain and fear inside is unique as your DNA; but then sometimes, there is some one who reaches out, tugs on a hidden strand or two and in that moment, what seems like a tangled web are actually pieces of a common thread.

I now believe that the path to hell and back is a familiar one for many of us who have suffered, and perhaps, we have all seen each other at some point along the way.




and in my midst of creative angst, despair and worry, the tagline to the film speaks to me in so many, many ways.


Your greatest creation is the life you lead...

Another pot hole in the road to recovery...

Another pot hole in the road to recovery...
Originally uploaded by hellophotokitty.

Well, the picture tells a thousand words. The absence of skin tells even more...

A tribute to female self portraiters

A tribute to female self portraiters
Originally uploaded by miss cleopatra.

Aliette - one of the many beautiful and uber tallented photographers on flickr posted this tribute today.

It came at such a perfect time for me, and I am sure, many other women as well.

I think that women dont give themselves the credit they are due. Being a woman in a mans world is no easy slice of pie! But so many strong and brave women pave the way for the rest of us every day, along with those who have already paved the way in the past.

I was watching 60 minutes tonight, and there was this one GI, she must have been about 22 at the time of the incident, she had to have half of her skull removed because her jeep ran over a land mine, causing severe body and head injuries. She was in a coma for about 4 months, and the doctor said that she had a 2% chance of survival. When Mike Wallace interviewed her and heard this, he repeated - 2%!! To which she replied: well somebody had to be in that 2% so why couldnt it be me?

I was floored.
That was courage and determination beyond any shadow of a doubt.

She had to re-learn to walk, speak, eat even think again. Its taken her two long years, but she is a real trooper. And its women like that - women who are fearless, not only in the face of danger, but in the face of others and the world who deserve a little special attention and kudos.

Strong women - my mom, and all my fellow female self-portrait flickerites, we*ve come a long way baby!!!

Good news!

Well, the news we have been waiting for is here.

But - we are not out of the woods 100% yet, but the news is good because it means my mom does not have to go through chemotherapy for a year. The biopsy of the lymph nodes that she had removed were 98% negative. The doctor spoke to the pathologist today during my mom's follow up this afternoon and the inital screening had been done - it was just the 2nd part of the test that was not completed yet. But the doctor assured us : if the inital results are negative, 9 times out of 10 they are negative when all the data is collected.

We were all so happy.
No, we were all so ELATED!

The past few days have been such a rush of emotions. I think I have lived 10 years compressed in a month. And the last week - well, my post last night said it all I think...

Today, I went to my mom's house. She was in good spirits. A little nervous , but didn't let it show. While she was getting ready, I peeked into her room. She was struggling with her hair (it's curly like mine) and said can you help me do something with this ?! Normally, I would have said - ah, just leave it like that, it's natural , but I remembered a friend's advice.
Do things with your mom - girly things like go shopping, put on makeup, take pictures before she goes through chemo. It's important for her to feel like she is still a woman and pretty. Chemo not only kills all the cancer cells, it also destroys your immune system and your sense of idenitiy. Help her to remember good one before she begins this difficult journey.

And so I did - put on her makeup. Her lids were droopy, lips depleted of their youthfull collagen, but it didn't matter. I made her look beautiful anyway. I could tell she really enjoyed being 'made up" even if it was only to see her oncologist - the man who would decide her fate and course of treatment for the next few months ahead.

She was optimistic, and didn't want to think about worst case scenario. Who does? Who would? And after seeing the plastic surgeon who looked at the gaping hole in her back, declairing it healthy and healing marveleouly, I saw the look of releif and color spring back into her face.

Now the final results.
Biopsy - negative or positive?

We sat outside the doctor's office - the three of us lined against the wall. Mom, best friend (sister by proxy) and me. Three strong women walking the plank over the waters of illness, knowing that death was an island too close to shore, but we keep our resolve. We are going to beat this. It will be negative.

My mom leaned over to me and said I was so optimistic up to now. I don't know what I'll do if it's positive. I mean, one year of chemo. That's alot. And what if it's spread?
We'll take it one day at a time. Like we've always done mom.

And she looked at me, as I have looked into her eyes so many times - wanting to beleive, hoping and trusting that she/I was right. It was a strange moment. I now understood what she must have gone through - trying to be optimistic, strong in the face of adversity and uncertantiy, and trusting that life will somehow give your the resolve and hope to see it all through.



After the diagnosis, my mom got up and thanked the doctor.
Can I give you a hug?
She was so cute.
She walked up to the tall doctor and hugged him hard. I am sure he knew that she was thankful.
I am sure that is a wonderful feeling - perhaps a balance when you tell someone that they only have a few months to live.

Sadness balances out the happiness.
Happiness balances out the sadness.

it's all in perfect working order.


After we left the office, I said to my mom and her friend: you know, happy hour has just started in most places...

We did'nt hit the bars. I think with the level of exhaustion that we were at, one sip of wine and all three of us would have been under the table. So instead we opted for delicious home made pizza and laughs at a local resturant.

And we laughed and laughed.

And I thank God, the universe, the bigger life force that we at least have one more chance, a little more time to be together.

2mrw is only a day away...

2mrw I go with my mom to the oncologist.
We will find out if the biopsy of her lymph nodes is positive or negative.

If positive - chemo for up to a year. Surgery to remove the rest of the lymph nodes too.

if negative - chemo only for a month, and of course, follow up treatments to make sure the cancer has not spread...

The words of the surgeon echo in my head...
yes, she's curable, but according to this scale (pulling out that fucken sliding scale) - with the depth and size of the tumour, she has 3 to 5 years at best... BUT every case is different, I'm just telling you what we are working with...

I think it's gonna be fucken weird - if the stuff comes back positive, and they give my mother this time line death sentence/best worst case scenario. I think we are all gonna flip.

I am getting more and more tired.
I am putting on weight - so much. Can't stop eating - it's disgusting. And i feel myself falling deeper and deeper into a depression. It's not so easy to pull myself up by my bootstraps anymore. This depression is deeper than not getting my way in the trivialities of life, it's more of a period of existential angst.

On the purely surface and self centered level, I ask: I'm, approaching 40 and what have I got to show for it? Who is going to take care of me when I'm old and grey? But on a deeper level, looking into myself I wonder: Is there any reason for suffering? Is there a light at the end of the tunnel? And the choices I make now in my life - is there a need for them to be based in a spiritual beleif system that would hopefully and according to the scriptures) save my soul when I die? Is this all just meaningless? Is there any point in suffering, and if there is, why would any God want to make us suffer - some more than others...


We celebrated my grandmother's 85th today. She was adorable. I bought her some blush, lipstick, an eyebrow pencil and a powder compact. She was thrilled: how did you know I wanted a compact like this!?

I helped her put on her makeup.
She was so pleased.

My mom got her some jewelry. We all sat together laughing and having souvlaki - her favourite food.

We went downstairs to bring her 50 plus flower arrangements to her room. She sat in her wheelchair, hunched, and tired. My mother went to hug her. My grandmother then turned to me: you take care of your mother K - she spent all her life taking care of us, you take care of her like she is taking care of me.

I nodded and smiled, gave her a hug and gave my mom a hug as E and I got ready to leave. I held my mom's hand and she looked at me: I am so afraid about 2mrw.
I looked at her and smiled: it'll be okay, you'll see.

I said goodbye and then walked down the hall and saw all the old people, slumped in their chairs, shuffling along in their walkers and felt sad, so very sad.

I am afraid, so very afraid.

I barely have enough strength to pull myself out of this thick black fog? How am I going to be able to be strong for them?

Do I have to fake my confidence ?


What do you do when you feel yourself spinning and sinking into a ditch that once pulled you down into the jaws of madness - a too close for comfort memory that is now hanging over my shoulder...

I cry every night, during the day when nobody is around, whenever my mind begins to rest - the moments in between rotations of the wheels in my mind.


The visuals, clear as day, the sounds - a voice to familiar and too painful to remember have become tar attached to the memory of the last words in my film...

"this depression, it grabs you, it suffocates you. I have no strength to go on. I am lost, I am afraid..."

I am so fucken scared. I feel that this is all going too fast.
Completely overwhelmed and feel so utterly alone.
I pray, but i don't know if I should bother.

I am lost.
I am afraid...