st.francis of assisi

I felt like St. Francis of Assisi this afternoon.

posts that start like this are kinda hokey, and would be criteria for skipping it, but bear with me...

It took all I could pull out of my solar plexus to get me out of the house. I knew it would do me good, but just like going to the gym, you gotta get your foot out the door first before you can run a mile.

So I walked. Picked up the pace a bit.
was inspired by Fat March last night

Got to the church and sat near the playground.
Eerily quiet. Guess most kids are in daycare now.

Better for me.
I put on my "ohm chant" as usual - (the only 20 minutes of peace in all of 24 hours), and tried to focus.

yea right...

It's so annoying to have the mind ride like a rodeo horse on acid. At first, a moment of peace, but then the relentless struggle to keep that moment of peace. My frown lines began to fold together underneath cheap sunglasses.

Focus focus

meditation isn't supposed to be work - or is it?

Still disappointed about the closure of the beautiful turquoise aqua oasis, I had to make a conscious effort to focus on the smell of pine and warm dewy grass.

Went to my usual hangout - underneath the weeping willow. Today seemed like a busy day at the communal green space - mothers with their babies, couples intertwined on beach blankets, and the odd fat man in swimming trunks without a shirt lying white belly up in the sun. The ducks were on the other side of the pond so my duck bread stayed in its ziplock

until

these two blackbirds flew right above me and sat on some branches directly about my head.
Now duck bread is blackbird bread!

Feeding the birds was such a delightful experience - especially when they are timid at first, and then gain their trust to come closer. With each breadcrumb pitched in their direction, the tiny beaks rummaged through the grass, crumbs in beak and peeped before they took flight- as if to say thanks for the picnic lunch!

I had to know if this monarch butterfly thing was just a coincidence.
Partially

These particular flowers seem to attract the butterflies and bees. But it was still nice to see one coming in my direction when I walked to the "on golden pond" area.


Walked some more and needed to rest . Flip flops were not a good idea - the plastic became sticky after walking on all that hot tar. Decided to take a load off between a cluster of majestic pine trees. That smell - there is nothing that says country more than fresh pine needles.

Took out the Multigrain cracked wheat again. Was hoping that perhaps it could double as squirrel bread, but these little fuzzy slippers with paws and teeth were quite fussy. Pulling out the big guns, the tearing sound of a maple and brown sugar granola bar seemed to stir the crowd.

There was one little squirrel (actually, he was quite big) that was bold enough to come right up to me and take the food out of my hand. I get such a kick out of that - their tiny little on my hand as they cautiously yet gently grab the oats/sugar gunk. Too sweet. The others seemed to pace around me - coming close but no granola bar. Saw the pseudo albino one up close .First time I've ever seen an all beige squirrel.

While looking around me, in awe of the sheer beauty of creation, a dragonfly landed on my toe. The mini-cyclops with cellophane wings tilted it's head in my direction, and then hopped onto the other toe! It decided to stick around for almost a minute - giving me enough time to really soak in the intricate network of legs, webbed wings and needle thin body. And in that moment, I felt so connected to nature. That in itself was a meditation.

A friendly older man walked by me, reached into his plastic bag and scattered peanuts on the ground.
You know, these animals are very intelligent. Have you ever taken the time to watch them eat and prepare to store their food for winter?

As a matter of fact I had, and was impressed at how their tiny brains could carry out such a task without any self-doubt or fear. Not like the brow beating guilt gymnastics I put myself through on a daily basis

Here you go - they'll appreciate your gesture
He poured a dozen shelled peanuts into my hands and wished me a lovely rest of the afternoon.

It was such a lovely day.
Worth going out for.

make a wish

Another sleepless night, but this one was worth every heavy blink of my now puffy and red eyelids



I figured since I was already up (around 4am), what better time to watch the lunar eclipse?



It was quite beautiful, but the sun began to slowly rise just as the fullness of the event



But while waiting, I saw not one, but two shooting stars!



The second one had a elegantly long tail and sparkled - just like the do in the movies.



Blessing for this day



a monarch butterfly in disguise?

closed until next year

I was so excited. It had been years since my body was cooled by chlorinated water.

There is something about that "outdoor public pool blue" that makes me quiver.

On my Friday walk, there were only a handful of people splashing around, lounging and baking in the sun.

I will go on Monday. There'll be nobody there for sure!

And to my shock and horror, the water was deadly still. Not even a ripple from the breeze. So silent, you could hear the filters working.

WTF?!?!?!

That's how out of touch I am - the outdoor pool closed for the season Sunday.
24 hours ago.
Shitty...

Schlepping around, feeling really upset and disappointed, I tried to calm my mind.
This spot? too bumpy
another spot - oh here come the screaming kids
then another - too many bugs

Spent most of the would be meditation time fussing and wandering from a grass patch to another, dodging horseflies and ants who were more than happy to climb aboard and enjoy a free ride.

One track - my daily Ohm
next track - "free yourself from procrastination guided hypnosis"- too wordy and inconsistent.
track three - wayne D - Jappa mediation

...

It worked for about 5 minutes until my jack in the box brain decided to explode.

Bleh.

So I walked around some more, got to feed the ducks.

E is funny:
so you don't want me to throw this moldy bread away because it's "Duck" bread?

yes
duck bread - bread for ducks.
and it's not moldy, just dry.

so that was a highlight.
Still amused by the mother duck - she's a nasty one when there are others vying for food near the flock. Body erect, bill in the air - she flaps her wings and charges at the poor dude who wandered into her path.

Motherly instance.

So still p.o'd about the pool, I made it to my 'inspirational spot". Filled with all kinds of blooming flowers in every color you could image, flat rocks were laid into the ground like steps leading into the edge of the pond. A lone white birch ads shade.

THis is the same place I saw the butterflies.
Perhaps they are out to gather pollen, drawn to a certain kind of flora, but timing is just too strange. Each time I arrive at the same spot, delicate wings whisper by my head.

Today, wondered while walking: "am I on the right path? Am I 'in spirit" yet? (he talks a lot about this in his books) and my reply sat on the center of a flower. Still and graceful, yet hanging on, refusing to be lifted away by the breeze - a monarch butterfly.

smiling, I stood there with a huge smile on my face, crouching down to get a better look, and for about 5 seconds, my eyes were filled with the beautiful image of the magic that lives and breathes in nature.

I guess I'm getting there. Slowly.
One butterfly at a time.

3 more monarchs and a dragonfly

Went for my little walk today.
Brought some bread to feed the ducks.
Boy - those seagulls are like vultures!

Kept tossing the bread pieces in the water so the stupid pigeons couldn't get to them.

The whole little family was there - all 8.
so cute.


And as I walked to my favorite spot near the flowers, I saw not one, not two, but three monarch butterflies!

"Look for signs of inspiration - whatever or wherever they may be" says Dr.D.

A whole 30 minute meditations session later, there they were, plus one dragonfly who seemed to like my flowy pants.

going to decide soon if I want to go to my annual HS dinner.
I do now have exclusive bragging rights for my art shit...

hmm

On golden city pond

Took another walk to the park today. Ahh, it was soo relaxing.
I needed it bad - after last night...

Hoping to catch some zzz's, I took a seroquel that my doc gave me. It should help you sleep.
You could have knocked me over with a sneeze, but that didn't stop the nasty twitchy feeling in my right arm. Looking up on the Internet, I found out that one of the side effects is called

Paresthesia

An abnormal sensation of the skin, such as numbness, tingling, pricking, burning, or creeping on the skin that has no objective cause.

it kept me up all night. No matter what I did to my arm, nothing seemed to take away that 'creeping' feeling. Lying on it, putting pressure on it, trying to do a one hand handstand didn't work. Bashing it against the door frame didn't help. Nothing. NOTHING. And this continued on for almost an hour.

4 am and I decide to knock myself out with some old (2004 old) clonazepam.
This stuff saved me when I was really rapid cycling Bipolar. It could knock out a whole football team with one pill. It's an anticonvulsant, which over the past few years, become a part of medicating bi-polar patients.

So I take this thing and within minutes, I'm out.
But I end up sleeping the day away because it is so strong.
Trading rotten apples for sour oranges is the way I see it now.


anyhoo.

I went down to the park - was so quiet and warm.
walked by the pool and really wanted to turn back and grab my bathing suit - despite the fact that I have not waxed in a while. Who would care. Anything below the waist would be in the water anyway. Maybe tomorrow.

So I grab a seat near a weeping willow tree, and begin to watch the seagulls.
Something wisps past me. A lone monarch butterfly! Coming close and then hovering it was a sight to behold. And not to mention strange as this is a) the only monarch butterfly I have ever seen this year and b) was listening to Wayne Dyer on the podthingy, and reading his book "Inspiration - your ultimate calling".

On the cover of the book is a monarch butterfly, and at the end of the book, he goes into the whole story about how this one creature hung on his finger for more than an hour! Funny that I was listening to him , reading the book, and along comes a solitary butterfly.

And to top it all off - the subject of his p.cast was all about finding the passion in your life, living that inspiration because it is a gift.

That passion was activated last night after I saw Superbad. (Excellent movie)
I missed making movies - the hectic pace, the cameras and lights everywhere, the actors, the crew, the craft table (lol). And when I was making them, or working on them, I was definitely in-spirit.

Yea, I miss it and/but am making up a whole shitload of excuses not to go back and/or take the plunge, leap of faith on that road again...

So back to the pond, I see a little family of ducks nearby. The start to waddle in my direction. Throw them some peach pieces and they hated it - spit it out. Could have swore I heard the "patouh!" from each one of them. The mother duck elongated her neck, looked around to see if there was any threat to her little ones as they began to sit down just feet away from me.

A squirrel came around, moving cautiously in the direction of the peach crumbs. Mother duck watched intently as mr. squirrel came closer. He was just looking for food, not foie gras I'm sure.
And as he skipped closer to a piece (which was close to one of her 7 duckings) he marched forward, beak and head down, about to charge at him!! The little guy ran up the tree as fast as he could, staying there until the little family waddled back into the pond.

This all probably sounds really corny - a granola nature lover who is tripping out from her anti-psychotic medication from the night before, but it was a true wonderful experience.

Methinks that this little oasis in the middle of the city will do lots to help heal my soul.

and the eye just opened up...

trippy


I was sitting at my computer - prozac paranoid rabid mind eating away the insides of my head.

It's hard to stop a locomotive at top speed

breast cancer, melanoma, cervical cancer, ovarian cancer

Keyboard pounded - fingers in a desperate, yet blind search for answers

Bloody hell...

Here we go again.

When this happens, my options are as follows:

a) panic
b) panic and then panic some more
c) implode from the weight of paranoia seeping into my cerebral cortex
d) scream
e) faint
g) begin to eat my own flesh to keep the ants from under my skin from marching up behind my eyeballs
h) be a complete masochist and keep looking for information on the Internet


I usually opt for b, which turns into a h. Sometimes a little d is let out, but then can be preceded by a close call of e.

Without hesitation, I grabbed my sneakers, jacket, hair-tamer-band thingy, keys and walked out the door.

I had no clue where I was going to go - the only thing it had to be was out

long story short:

ended up in a park next to a church where it's quite most of the time. Back to school season so most of the miniature shrieking banshees have been trotted off to daycare. If not, I had my ithingy to keep my ears plugged.

The sun was still shining but becoming overcast. I sat on a wooden park bench, closed my eyes and found some Tibetan Buddhist "ohm" chants.

And for the next 15 minutes, my rabid monkey mind exploded. Accelerated to the umpteenth degree. Following every breath, it seemed to slow down the process. A mental/physical slow acting sedative.

Breathe in
Breathe out
Breathe in
Breathe out

17 minutes passed and by fighting off the distractions with so much force, my body and mind became tired. Surrendering to the exhaustion, my eyes opened up and above me, the clouds began to pass so slowly - as if in harmony with each full note of "ohm". Resonating through my fillings, that mantra was starting to work its way through my blood. Closing my eyes, I remembered a technique from a previous yoga class:

focus on the spot between your eyes - your third eye. Be aware of it - enter it.

and I did
with amazing results.


in the past, I was only able to focus on a pink spot of light that would hover at the bridge of my nose. The psychedelic lights that one sees after pressing the eyeball with a palms of the hand. (there is a medical term for those lights...) But this time, it was as if I was seeing through my iris, and it began to expand from a small point of violet light to a whole wash of the purest sky blue.

Hard to explain/understand.

Yea, I know.

So imagine yourself inside an eyeball. Stand behind the pupil. Notice how it expands and contracts with the varying amounts of light that pass through it. Now imagine seeing a cloudless blue sky. The most perfect blue you have ever experienced in your lifetime. The pupil begins to open - wider, wider, until the frayed edges of the iris surrender to this heavenly vision. Feel that moment for a second. How amazing does that sound?

This is what I experienced.

Funny how the mind (mine is far from being spotless or having any reserves of eternal sunshine) begins to grasp for meaning to attach to abstract things. Blame evolution I guess. But my mind started to panic (story of my life) and tried to claw its way back into the safe realm of ordinary consciousness - pulling up things like: got to call the acupuncturist. Cancer. You might have cancer. You are a failure, you good for nothing jobless blob of a middle aged woman...

but another part of me tried to gently coax it back to that serene space. The fighting went on for a few minutes, and just at the moment of possible surrender to this blissful haven, the song ended. If there was a sound for a cosmic thud - I heard it loud and clear.

I dunno.
Maybe my mind is playing tricks on me, and neurons are blowing out like old spark plugs, but it was a new feeling. And it was special.

For the next hour, I walked to a nearby park. Took in all the smells of pine and wet grass. Sitting beneath a weeping willow tree, the wind delicately lifted the leaves from the water and rippled across the pond. A family of ducks floated by, occasionally diving head first to catch some eats. Flying, floating, swimming - being.

Two things I love the most - flying and swimming.
My body relaxed, the world around me began to fade away and my iris slowly opened up again - this time, I was awake and alive for the first time in so many many months.

so that's my freaky story.

A letter to myself - must remember this moment when things get really bad.

octopus garden and swiming cats

Dream: (unedited)

My living room had turned into some sort of urban jungle from the 1970's. Wood paneling, forest green corduroy couches, arm chairs without arms, low ceilings that seemed to press down on my forehead whenever I looked up.

There were two huge fish tanks on either side of the room.
Low - right to the floor.
Huge Mf's - public aquarium size.

And within each one floated a giant octopus. Aquatic glass houses facing each other - a watery world of 8 limbed ballet dancers slowly stretching and reaching.

Oh yea - the one on the right had a huge albino/pale gold fish. Perhaps a freak gigantic tuna.

And then there was the cat - Kineko: my little instigator. That's why it came as no surprise to me that something was going to happen to either the water dwellers or four paws...

It was feeding time for the fish - I had a few cans of shelled oysters to dump into each tank. Not sure what the tuna was going to eat. The smell made me sick - reminded me of my father gutting pike at my uncle's country house under a hot July afternoon sun. "Golden Oysters" from Japan. The rims of the tin were rusted. No doubt they had been sitting in a warehouse for years, but I didn't think that these octopi would be too fussy.

I dumped the shiny ooze into each murky green tank. Within a matter of seconds, tiny suction cups wrapped themselves around the globs and then disappeared into the underbelly fleshy lump of animal. The tuna seemed to float around undisturbed. Perhaps he was allergic to shellfish.

I tossed in some flakes of foul smelling crap into his tank. His fish lips puckered as he met each drop with an open mouth. Tiny soft pops with each gulp and then dive to wash it down with water.

Sitting in between these two tanks, I felt a serenity that is something in short supply around here. My mind wandered to cuba and my moments scuba diving.

I promised myself if I go again, this time I will get certified.

Bliss. No gravity, no sound, just floating. How simple life would be!


Kineko smelled the oysters.
What cat doesn't like that smell?

He tried to paw his way up the side of the aquarium. I knocked him off each time; trying to distract him with some burlap bag of "Acme XXX" catnip.

The tuna seemed to be lonely (that's what I thought in the dream), so I lifted it out and placed it under the couch to hang out with me. The phone rang, lost track of time and raced back only to see it waving its tiny fins in a pathetic surrender for H2O.

Grabbing some sort of orange bed sheet (what an ugly color for bed linen!) I rolled it on its side (damn that thing was heavy) and lifted it up to the tank. Knocking off the cover with one foot, and kicking the cat away with the other, it rolled out and into the tank - an albino anvil. I held my breath for a few seconds. what the hell did I do now! I killed it! But within seconds, it began to wave around from head to fin, and our breathing resumed.

But behind me - another disaster was waiting to unfold.

Kineko had made his way on top of the aquarium of the lone octopus. He dipped his paws into the water, taunting the mass below. Still covered in wet sheets, I tried to distract him. He jumped off, and then while my back was turned, jumped on again. This time, mr. 8 legs was beginning to figure out that desert was close to the surface. Before I had a chance to swat the cat away - a gigantic elongated fleshy whip broke through the surface of the water and blindly swung around. Kineko thought this was a new toy and tried to follow its movements. I shrieked and before my eyes, he fell into the tank. His tiny body, dwarfed by the sea monster hit the basin in slow motion - and no sooner than he could float back up, another tentacle wrapped around his leg. Plunging my whole upper torso into this mess, I pulled up his soggy trembling body out and ripped away the fleshy coil which had already begun its hungry choke hold.

Sobbing, I yelled at him: "Why did you do that you stupid cat!"
and then turned to the octopus: "You idiot! You weren't supposed to have him as a meal!"
but seconds after the panic subsided, Kineko bolted off into the kitchen and mr. albino settled to the bottom corner of his room, I realized that I was speaking a foreign language to these exchange students who just happened to end up on the wrong side of each other's territory, and that being a guardian sometimes meant just acting and not saying.

does this make any sense?
I guess it's not supposed to. It's a dream..

Oh yea, I was also taking a buss home when it took some strange turn from a busy city street into a winding country road. I asked the driver if I had missed my stop - he told me that I had ended up 30 miles from point A and would have to walk 15 miles back to the next buss.

I got off - loaded up my backpack and bottle of water, and underneath the scorching morning sun, walked on the side of the road, facing the oncoming trucks and tractors.

There was some sort of old wooden house - painted white. The typical "side of the road" home. The porch was littered with antique furniture and rusted windmills. Past the doorway were delicately cracked ceramic statues and plates. A frail old man greeted me and asked me if I was lost.

duh!

He told me to take this escalator up to the 2nd floor (it was in the middle of his house) where I would find a highway underpass which would lead me to the buss stop in question.

I took it with some other country bumpkins, and ended up standing in a concrete snakes and ladders jungle.

That's when I ended up in my aquatic life living room.

Ahh - Prozac. Gotta love the mind fuck it does to your dreams.

options

So there are options.
I saw a trustee yesterday who told me that we have options.
Bankruptcy is feasible and is not the huge stigma bearing curse it used to be.

I have to wait to see if I can wipe out all my debt before I continue.

There are options.

Phew.

I was sick to my stomach yesterday before the meeting.
And have a nervous hangover from it as well.


So many things.

I know "one thing at a time" - but it's hard to muddle through when you are caught in a sieve of past and pending obligations. Mucky vision.

Canada council grants are coming up.
I've asked a friend for help but she's not being much of a help and that itself frustrates me to no end.

Pisses me off when people are like that. I'm the type of person who would go out of my way to help someone, and then go the extra 10 miles if need be.

Stupid me I guess...

failure

Have I mentioned lately that I feel like a total failure?
Body failure, mental failure, failure as a person, human being?
Failure as a photographer, filmmaker, writer?
Girlfriend, friend, co-worker, individual of the world?

I know.
When everything looks grey, it's hard to see the colors.

But depression really does hurt, and it's strong. The tug from below snaps the cord of reason from above and all is left is just a frayed existence falling into a black hole of confusion and fear.

I can CBT myself all the way to the fucken china, but if you don't believe that it works, it won't.

My house has become a Barnes and Noble inventory. Scattered throughout my house -books. On the floor in the living room, stacked meters high near my office, on the basinette warping from humidity when I take a shower.

Oh yea, forgot to mention the ones from under my bed...

All self help books: all "getting into the gap" books, all "life is what you make it" literature; but unless you believe, it ain't worth the crap that falls from your ass after a hearty meal.

Becoming numb- the emotional override switch that's been tripped up.

Hopefully the physical will not be too far behind.

???

I'm sitting here debating whether I should go to the hospital or not.

I HATE hospitals - but who doesn't right?

I've been there too many times for myself and the people I love. It leaves a metallic taste in my mouth that lingers for days.

Camping was just wonderful. It was such a pleasure to get out of the city. The smell of pine and wild flowers filled my lungs, and the view of the mountains, lush greenery and watching all kinds of animals crossing my path was most mediative.


We drank watered down American beer (actually I had Mike's hard lemonade. They seemed to be out of the Jack Daniel's coolers), ate hamburgers on the grill and toasted marshmallows over the open fire.

Sigh.

Just flashing back to that memory seems to heal the panic that is washing over me in timed waves.


We usually make our pit stops at the Burlington malls before we head home. The Crow Bookstore on Church St. and then the big Barnes and Noble in University mall. Cheaper books, no tax and a kick ass selection of used books. But I opted out of the B&N. I was feeling sick. Really sick.

Out of the blue I knew that if I didn't sit down, I was going to faint. Things went fuzzy, my legs lost their feelign and strength, my fingers froze in a claw like position and the world around me began to tilt.

I waddled to the chair - got a plastic bag ready just in case I decided to hurl. The feeling didn't pass. It hung on for more than 35 minutes - peaking and fading away every 5 minutes.

An allergic reaction?
To what? Bacon, eggs and home fries?

I had an allergic reaction before - but this time, no swelling of the tongue, closing of throat or racing heartbeat.

Just feeling as if I were baked out of my mind, no strength and horrible stomach somersaults that would make any Russian gymnastic coach proud.

"Do you have travel insurance?"

Two hours to get home, not including border time. I was getting desperate. A hospital seemed like a wise choice at this point. But did we have insurance? I don't think E wanted to find out after the fact that a 2000$ medical bill would not be reimbursed.

Well, after a whole ativan later (and many many toilet stops - God. There really was a devil in my coffee that day) we got home. I felt calmer and less spaced out.
But what the hell was that?

Of course, I looked up my symptoms on the internet: The symptom checker
Enough to freak out anybody without a medical degree.

So either it was a panic attack (but I was as relaxed as a stretched out t shirt), osteoporosis, food poisoning, or a stroke (among other things...)

a stroke?
Good god.


But today I feel a little warbly again.
The pain on my right side - inside my stomach, is still stabbing. That nasty ulcer is protesting.
And I as I took a shower, the only thought that went through my mind was: "make sure you're wearing clean underwear with no holes in them."

Status: at computer, feeling foggy, trying to keep panic at bay, underwear clean and without holes, pending decision - go to the hospital or ride this out?

Kamping

Ahh.
If all goes well, we will be heading out to Vermont tomorrow afternoon for some much needed camping. I can't wait!

Mom is going to visit the cats, make sure they don't suffocate in the heat, keep them company and play with the new satellite tv thingy.

I'm getting more calls and letters from the credit card companies. E told me to wait it out - "you are going to pull the plug on this shit soon..." But I think I'll still have the student loan hanging over my head until the day I die.

I wish I had a case for being bi-polar, having two breakdowns and spending thousands of $$ on medication to keep me sane. Oh yea, I forgot. Money to get groceries.

It's not fair. How many people I knew took their student loans and fucked off to Europe. But not me - chugged away at two degrees, spent thousands of my own money on my films, never got a bursary or scholarship. I worked hard and honestly. Now I'm paying for it.

Bla bla bla.

Time to take an ativan, breathe through this and get some sleep.

Sad cinematic day

I was shocked to hear that one of my favourite film directors died: Ingmar Bergman.

My friend lives near him, actually met him a few times. She is in a deep state of mourning as all of us who knew and loved his work.

I had a dream of meeting him one day - thanking him for being such a huge influence on me. It was because of his film Persona that I decided to go into filmmaking.

In her email just a few minutes ago, she also mentioned that Antonioni died yesterday as well.

Another big influence/idol of mine.

what a very sad cinematic day.


There is a saying that famous people die in threes.
Let's hope it's not somebody I love...

scribble mind

scribble mind
my scribble mind

a toxic epitaph of
coagulated negativity

downshifting from
self loathing to reluctant acceptance
of those 40 years we cannot change
just review, proactively revise for future
decades



it is in our hands
this future I speak of
is in our grasp -
old crone hands
starving children
pass it around
this hope, these tools
work into an answer


of the universal definition of fear
and debunk
that myth

simpsonized

I needed to see the funny side of things today.

this is me "Simpsonized"












No pheunomnia - perhaps mono.
My lungs are still clogged with shit - chronic bronchitis
I'm not going to give you more antibiotics - just a cortisol inhaler. Might take up to a month to work. And the fatigue - that's a viral thing just like the bronchitis.

yummy...

my current center of the universe

my current center of the universe
Originally uploaded by hellophotokitty

“The madness of depression is the antithesis of violence. It is a storm indeed, but a storm of murk. Soon evident are the slowed-down responses, near paralysis, psychic energy throttled back close to zero. Ultimately, the body is affected and feels sapped, drained.”*


This feeling is compounded by so many things - physical illness, psychic exhaustion, impending financial ruin - all arriving at the same time in one cataclysmic meltdown inside my head. I often wonder if this next emotional earthquake will be the one that sends me into the ocean of oblivion. I've been there before - on the precipice of madness, but almost four decades of struggling have finally begun to erode my grasp on hope and faith. Not even the complex chemical brain boosts in multi colored pills seem to help anymore.

Oscillating between two extremes, my soul rests somewhere in the middle of this dark apex of a shaken existence. This past year has sucked the life out of me. Sink or swim - I wait for the calm in this storm.

I'll be back with the rest of my NYC trip when I find my equilibrium again.

Will miss you all.

*William Styron - author of his autobiography - Darkness Visible - a memoir of madness

If you know of anybody who suffers from depression, or you yourself suffer from it, I encourage you to read this book.

the power of intention and other wonderful things...

I've been listening to Dr. Wayne Dyer - downloaded 30 podcasts over the past few days. Been forcing myself to get into the habit of joining him at least once a day. Day 2 and I already feel different.

Perhaps it's just the pms monster talking; the melancholy mushy wushy/sob at the drop of a cookie/everything is all about the drama mode, or perhaps what he is saying is making perfect sense.

Mom is coming to pick me up soon - figures. Just when I'm having an inspiration bout of non-fictional diarrhea...


what I've learned so far:
trust your instincts - since you are connected to God, all the information that you intercept is from him.

We are connected to the source: The source is a divine energy that existed before anything really existed. We are all energy - molecular particles in motion = energy. Everything is energy.

Another interesting thing he mentioned - to paraphrase:
We are all energy. Our eyes and brains are calibrated to see the world around us as solid. To see this energy as a tangible thing. Sound is energy at a higher level. Light is an even higher energy. The source is the highest energy of all.

One woman called to talk about her son - 18 and committed suicide. The last year of his life he was diagnosed as schizophrenic.
These people are the only ones on this earth that are closer to God than any of us.

and it hit me
I remember before my breakdown, it was if I had superpowers of perception. All my senses were uber sharp, almost too sharp. It seems as if I didn't have the proper faculties to process all that information. Everything around me vibrated and hummed. Even the buildings, streets. Noise had a different essence - touched my ears and brain in a different way. Spiritual things began to make sense: principles of enlightenment, re-birth, karma. The mysterious spirtial fog of ancient religious writings and teaching began to open up my consciousness. Aside from the moments of sheer panic that the world was going to end, or that I'd be killed, I felt privy to many mini "zen" moments of peace and understanding.

What was going on?
My mind went into 5th gear and out of control... (quote from my film Clair Obscure)

perhaps my guard was down.
Perhaps I had thrown all understanding of the world around me out the window because the world I knew didn't exist in anymore inside my tormented state of mind.

what does it all mean?

I came through it with more questions than answers.
Perhaps though my journey to make this documentary/exhibit about using photography, self-portraiture as a tool for healing may contain the answers I was looking for.

or
Perhaps there aren't any answers, just more question, but maybe with time, we can understand that they are not meant to be solved, just contemplated upon. Move into a state of grace and awe over this thing called life.



or bla bla bla.


in a week from now I'll look at this and say to myself: what a load of horseshit!

or maybe not.

hopefully it will all begin to make sense.

*coughs*

Going on week three of this horrible thing that has gone beyond any definition of a normal flu.

Did New York City really knock the wind out of me that hard?

I basically slhep myself to the bathroom, kitchen to feed the monsters, and then back to bed.

There are 14 cracks in the ceiling, three of which are making me very nervous.
Crosswords have done their part in keeping my sanity in my possession.

But it's the exhaustion - sheer wipe out.

I'm afraid it's walking pneumonia - I will go to the clinic for a chest x-ray tomorrow.
I will demand a chest x-ray at the clinic tomorrow...


E got back from san francisco on friday afternoon.
Or has it been longer than that already?

I can't even begin to imagine how mom managed to get through a year of chemo and not want to give up.

"I'm sick of feeling sick" - now I know 1/10th of what she must have felt.

I really just have enough energy to write this post and go back to rest.

Frasier has been my saving grace as well - he's good therapy for a weary spirit and shabby body.

God. So many stories to write - so little energy to write them...

My Safe Place (Behind The Lens)

My Safe Place (Behind The Lens)
Originally uploaded by Emma Kitten

As I accumulate stories from people who have used photography (self portraiture in particular) as a tool for healing, I'm always amazed by how man of us find comfort behind the lens.


"This is my ‘safe place’, always behind the camera. Doing these self-portraits has been an intense experience of photo-therapy and has helped me examine my self and my illness, as well as providing therapy."


In actuality, it's just a piece of metal and pastic, right?

Thnks Emma Kitten.

Cancer Free!!

Cancer Free!!
Originally uploaded by hellophotokitty

Mom went for the results of her PET scan today.
We all held our breath for the whole afternoon.
They came back all clear.


We all breathed a sigh of relief!!

But our prayers turned to her co-worker who suffered a mild heart attack last night. My mom was there to talk her into going to the hospital. She is doing better as well.

I hope this is karma working here.
She did a good deed, now she is getting her karma points back. Health and happiness.

But I have no idea why she ran out of so many karma points in the first place to end up with a super rare form of aggressive skin cancer?

But she's healthy now, and that's what's important...

the pooh miester

Kineko is my baby.
He is too funny sometimes...

He always has to be everywhere I am. And if I'm not paying attention to him, he lets me know it by standing in front of me, and lets out a huge MEOW, as if to say: Hey!! WTF is going on! I'm here ya know!"


To keep them quiet, I sometimes feed them the other food (we have so much of it) but E gets mad at me cause it makes kineko have painful shits. Well, he did tonight. Right on the floor in the hallway. I heard his painful wail from across the house. Ran over and there he was - back arched, taking a dumparoo on the floor. How could I get mad at him? it was partially my fault for feeding him the shitty food. But it was funny in a weird way. I didn't yell at him, just asked him why he did that.

he just looked at me as if I were stupid, meowed a rolley meow and walked away with his tail up in the air.

Funny kitty.
he is my whole life.