The Southeastern Blue Bird

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“The Southeastern Blue Bird Learns A New Song” is a folk art original painting by Faith Austin. At 6.5×4.5 inches it’s miniature stature delights you with her song as she sits on a stick in the forest.

The song is new; it’s the song her father once sang. The young Blue Bird has yet to master it but she will, before the day ends.

This whimsical, folkart piece includes faux blue and orange features, music notes, flowers, branch, acrylic on paper, ink, water, wind and hope. She is signed, sealed and unmounted.

Etsy You can find me there.

Faith

Face It: The Advocate

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Many years ago I painted with a computer program. I painted stroke by stroke instead of with filters, making each line very personal. I printed off postcard art and offered it under my name, Sundrip. It was many years and many experiences ago.

Recently I found a stack of the post cards in an old box and began doodling on them. The Advocate came about, so did the idea to continue to mark up, up cycle and alter my own art piece.

I’ve created a section in my shop called Face It. You’ll find just a few original postcards offered for a short time and the altered Face It pieces. The piece that’s in there now is called The Advocate. It’s different from the original in that the colors are deeper, the walls are fuller and if they could talk, they’d have a lot to say.

Here’s the original postcard art from 2007.

Introducing The Advocate in 2024

The Advocate

A figure stands on a purple platform looking down. Purple is used to advocate for domestic violence, Dementia / Alzheimers, Fibromyalgia, Lupus and other systemic illnesses. The platform symbolizes the person’s difficulties that he or she must face. Who will speak?

The postcard is original art by me but there will be many altered Face It Postcard Series pieces. Each will be a one of a kind.

Etsy is where you’ll find me 🙂

Faith

Decrystallize Honey With A Coffee Mug Warmer

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I found a jar of honey in an old supplies from the pandemic era. It had crystallized.

I didn’t want to go through the trouble of doing the double boiler thing to melt it down and shake it up but I do want it decrystallized. I can’t do the dishwasher method either. That’s where you place the honey in the dishwasher for three cycles and viola, no more crystals. However, I do have a coffee mug warmer, and time.

How it unfolded

  • I kept the lid on the whole time.
  • I saw signs of movement within three minutes.
  • I turned it over several times so it wouldn’t get too hot on a given side.
  • Give it a good shake from time to time.

The full process took about 30 minutes for six ounces of crystallized honey. The honey tastes just like I remember. 🙂 I know exactly why I buy from this particular beekeeper.

There are two beekeeping families with superior products who keep me coming back.

My wonderful full-time caregiver enjoyed the cinnamon and honey I made for her. Now for lavender and honey, lemon and honey, etc. I purchased a quart and the taste sizes are only one ounce so there’s enough to play with. 🙂

Well, I’m off to do end of the month tasks. Try not to worry they say. It’ll all work out they say. I’ve got evening care added on two days a week now, due to memory issues and others from long covid. They’re making sure I eat, too.

Faith

Yes, again. Sundrip Mascot.

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I slowly recognized the symptoms then had to humbly admit I’d need assistance from friends during this time. I reassured them I’m not contagious. It’s long covid aka resident evil.

My mind was – heavy – and slow. The fatigue was crushing. The rash popped up as did covid mouth and covid toes. But the symptoms most worrisome are psychological issues associated with covid-19. I could tell my brain wasn’t working right but I’m in a different position now.

I’m in a better position now because I partly know what to expect. I can anticipate it and so can my friends. The other thing is this. I know I trust my God 100%. I trust him and his elders.

So if the elders tell me something isn’t real, I’ll readily accept it. I’ll forcefully accept their word and act on it, in opposition to what my own dilutional, psychotic brain has created.

I’ve still got the camera in my bedroom watching me at night.

I don’t remember a thing at times. Time is just gone, a lot of time. I’m on the camera acting normally but I don’t remember those hours at all. The time is gone.

Dfferent topic – –

A few years ago I purchased a pair of black shoes which were the first pair of shoes after the amputation. Well, I never really got the right side to stretch correctly so they sat in the closet unused, until now.

I’m going back to Dr Martens for the black pair of shoes like my tan ones. I need to free gift someone in order to justify such a purchase. Lol. I absolutely love the person who is taking them. They couldn’t go to a better person! Now I wait a few weeks for money and I’ll go back for the black. I’ve got a pair of solid black chuck tailors to give away, too. Size 9.

Black heal. That’s a water mark on the shoe. It’s not permanent.

I’m finished with tie up shoes. The amputated side, the stump, changes a lot making tie ups uncomfortable. I’m keeping the white and black converse 🙂

So, my lips are on fire. I’m so tired I can’t see straight. I’m going to bed now.

Something significant happened today. I don’t remember what it was.

I noticed in bed I don’t stretch out. I have to force myself to stretch out. It’s quite a challenge.

I’ve been working on several projects, some personal and some for the shop.

Good thing I have Joe for advice and constructive criticism.

Though sometimes he sleeps on the job.

Speaking oof sleep. I really should go to bed. I feel like I could sleep.

Thanks for listening (?)

Faith

Fatigue Post Covid

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I’ve struggled to rebound from covid. I’m physically tired and somewhat depressed.

I was encouraged to talk to the sisters at the Hall who recently had psychosis with covid-19 and are having a harder time rebounding. It’s not just me. I’m not alone in this experience.

I think every time I smell that chemical smell again I’m afraid I’m going to get sick.

I’m sleeping but not well. The fatigue is crushing right now, so much so that I worry leaving the apartment for fear of being so tired I can’t get myself back in the apartment because I’m so tired. After hearing myself say that I realize I’m not making excuses about fatigue. I’m flat out fatigued and I’m battling it.

Shoes

Posted on by Faith

Thank you for the surprise donation that came in this month through my PayPal. I couldn’t believe it! 🙂 I knew exactly what to do with it. I put it towards shoes.

I was able to find a pair of shoes that fit my needs: ankle strap and adjustable top. Having those two features means I don’t have to buy two different pair of shoes to fit my foot and my ever changing amputated other side.

Well, a great sale came around for these so I snagged ’em. I don’t have to wear them for six to nine months to break them in, either. I put them on and they are sooo soft and comfortable.

Yes I got pink the not-Crocs the other day during Prime Day. Absolutely! Cute shoes mean a lot to me now that so few options are available to me.

So, thank you very much for the gift. It was on time and appreciated.

Faith

A double shot of usefulness

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I’ve not shown off my Philodendron Hope plant in awhile. It’s growing out of two Betta tanks.

I’m going to clip it back soon and allow certain leaves to mature. It’ll look nicer cut back.

I have hope.

There’s no doubt about the hope I have, but the path to it feels difficult at times. Fear is enemy number one.

I know I have hope. I’m just having a hard time keeping my fingers on it.

Maybe it should be enough, the fact that I can see it and know it’s within arms reach.

Well, in typical artist fashion, I’ve got several projects in different stages all going at once. Still, I’m encouraged by the “I Believe” piece.

It seems to carry the same symbols as two other pieces, which is very interesting to me.

I’m so happy to be making art just for me! And I so love that one young girl’s hair is 3 hearts instead of round puffs. 🙂

OMGoodness I have fallen in love with collaging entire works with my own art scraps. How satisfying!

It makes me smile to paint here in this little place I’ve created; sipping tea, dabbing paint brushes, writing letters and such. Recently a naysayer called the entire apartment an ecosystem. He has no idea how happy that makes a girl like me.

I enjoy waking up to meaning, purpose and usefulness in my little ecosystem- apartment. I could use a double shot of usefulness about now.

Covid update – still running a fever. Unproductive cough, mostly at night. I still break out in a sweat which feels different from hot flashes. I have GI issues, a rash on my back, my scalp inexplicably itches, too. My blood pressure has dipped so low that I’ve passed out.

I ordered supplies from Amazon since getting to the store is out of the question. Coconut water, cheerios and of course jello were among many of the supplies. Why do I love jello so much?

Please excuse me, I’ve got some cuddling to do before the day begins.

Faith

The Other Side of Sanity. Covid.

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I’ve written several paragraphs only to erase them. I’m emotional and all over the place only to come to rest on afraid. I’m afraid.

The way through will be long and arduous.

I don’t feel so good.

The man and his company who called me pious and lion like has been fired. Knowing I hate water he said I’d enjoy two showers a day and that the caregiver would need to daily check my skin in the shower for possible skin infections. He would be the one to take me to the grocery and pet store, not the caregiver. If he didn’t want my case he should have just said so. There are over 700 companies in my area I can call on for care, seven hundred. The thought of that man returning makes my skin crawl.

Beans. I’m on a bean kick again. Legumes are my friends.

The Psychiatric Service Dog will be about $17,000. Everyone is on board with the idea of me getting one. I’ll start looking into grants soon.

I hope to paint soon, too but Covid is kicking my butt. No changes either way. Today I tore up an orange juice spiked with coconut water. Very refreshing. I later had a chicken thigh, fresh fruit, cheddar cheese and a slice of avocado.

My bblood pressure has been all over the place, dipping way down. My body temp even dipped to 96.9. I’ve sweat like nobody’s business! This is crazy.

Poor Joe has been alarmed. He’s sticking very close.

He’s such a good guy even when he smacks me in the head with his tail.

Faith

Pushing over the edge. Next step.

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It’s a difficult time right now. Stress is high enough that my body is killing me. Stress is high enough that I’ve trusted too much due to mental exhaustion.

I went running from the building bc I thought it was going to blow up. I thought God sent me a message telling me to get up and leave everything behind and flee. So I did. Only trouble was, it was late, late like 3 or 4 am.

I was rolling down the dark street away from the building bc I thought it was going to blow up but then in my head this line of reasoning came over me: If you trust Jehovah then you know he wouldn’t put you in danger. Go home. It was then I saw the guy bounce from the bushes towards me. I took off in my wheelchair screaming, trying to drive straight. I got to the porch and called “my brother” who is as exhausted and I.

never before have I thought I had a premonition so strong or felt it was from God. It was a strange thing. It’s never happened before.

I have talked until I’m blue in the face. It’s like a huge puzzle and I hate puzzles.

I don’t know what the next step is. I have hope though and that’s what I’ll keep in mind.

– Sundrip –

Epiphany: A Future that is Mine

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CONTENT – Child Abuse. Strong emotion. Therapy Review. The art work is not finished but will eventually be in my Etsy shop.

If I believe I have a real future and a real hope, why do I keep wanting to go back and fix things? Why do I still feel like that little girl who needs her mother to love her?

No, it’s too late. I know she’s gone but I feel myself unable to give up. But not giving up the past means there’s less room for the wonderful future ahead, a future I firmly put faith in.

Today Dr D ask me if I could say anything to her what would I say? My words are in bold. I told her Don’t touch me! Don’t look at me! Keep away! You keep saying you’re going to give me a way, then do it!

That comment was interesting because the entire time I was talking to her I never said I love you or why don’t you love me? I never said hug me. I never said anything like that. It was it, Get away from me! Get away from me!

I didn’t want her to touch me ever again. I was angry about her watching me. I was angry about her letting others watch me. I was angry about all of the touch. I was angry about her destroying the mind of my sister. I was angry about her destroying the relationship I could have had with my sister. I just wanted her to go away. That was different from the feelings I thought I had. When I had the “spontaneous opportunity” to speak it was the voice of rage not a tiny, vulnerable child. That was incredible.

The artwork I’ve been doing lately shows exactly how I feel about my mother’s voyeurism. She was everywhere to the point that it was scary. Now that I think about it, if she stalked her boyfriend with us in the car of course she stalked my sister and me. And she wore that stupid black coat with the stupid hood looking like the grim reaper. She wasn’t holding anything, but dang! Standing in a pitch black hallway in a black trench coat watching people like a psychopath!

She told me she had people watching me and my sister and that nothing could be hidden from her. Dr D jumped in an said, “This is why you have DID.”

It was the most terrifying time of my life growing up with her and yet I thought I wanted that woman to love me. I wanted a little child me to go to her. To run to her. To be held by her.

Are you kidding me! No way! This is the woman who beat my lips with a wide tooth comb. Who beat my body with a towel rod. No. No. I have got to scrape this off of my heart so I can let myself have that future that’s so right in front of me. I’ve been crawling towards it. How do I scrape this off of me, the filth that she layered on me? The filth belongs to her. Whereas a future filled with hope is mine. I believe that with all my being.

Faith