Artist Thoughts: The Color of Healing

First dress in 30 yrs

I recently purchased a new dress for the first time in over 30 years. I’d been wanting a kaftan so I purchased a pink tie dye kaftan. That got the ball rolling and lead to dress number 2.

When I was a child I didn’t wear much white because I tend to wipe my hands on my clothes, but unfortunately my family attached my worth to the color white. Here’s what I mean –

In 1992 I was getting ready for a function so I was ironing my white skirt and blouse. As I ironed, my sister kept walking past me saying, “Whore. Whores don’t wear white.” My mother and she were cruel. They wanted me to feel low and loathsome.

My sister was truly a piece of work. I got married in white and I could hear her evil words on that day, too. Fast forward to 2022. Not only am I older, I’m mad now.

I’m upset that my family attempted to harm me in whatever way seemed good. I was shamed so terribly over getting white dirty. It was always such a big ordeal. Living in the house with those two, I knew I was out numbered.

Recently I’ve been trying to reclaim a few colors associated with abuses. I’d been working on yellow for a while. I can say with pride that I have successfully reclaimed the color yellow and restored it to its proper place; next is white.

I’ve been tossing this idea around for a bit. It’s finally coming to fruition. I purchased a long, solid white Kaftan…..to paint in… to purposely wipe my hands on and get it all covered lol. Then of course I thought, what about shoes? So in February I’ll get a pair of knock-off, high top Converse, white for about $20. Converse right now are $115. I’m not trying to make that expensive of a point. Lol

Where the label on the shoe should be, I’ll put a sunflower. To tie the whole statement together, I’ll toss in a white dreadlock wrap and some hoop earrings.

I’m going target a few areas where I have unresolved issues such as over the heart, the lungs and the tassels at the bottom.

Colors of significance will include deep shades of purple bc the purple survivors ribbon is for Lupus, Domestic Violence and Dementia. All of these have touched my life significantly.

I don’t know when I’ll say the dress is “finished”. I do know I’ll wear it around the house to paint in. My paints are permanent and vivid.

A bit of irony – the dress arrived very wrinkled. I absolutely have to iron it before I put it on.

The rest of life is as troubled and discombobulated as everyone else. I’m taking it day by day. I find the world increasingly difficult to manage. I’m worried about the havoc politicians will reek on their world playground during elections. I’m not looking forward to racism being encouraged. Thank goodness I don’t understand the joy people feel when “sticking it” to someone else. But they love it.

While living in excessively violent times, politicians gleefully spit rhetoric to inflame groups and turn people against each other. It’s like it’s a billionaire’s game where the one with the most casualties wins.

Other than that, the frogs are great and so is Joe. The jumping spider is doing well. My CNA situation is “interesting”.

I’m a bit lonely right now though I see people regularly.

Rumination is pretty bad still. My emotions get intense but not like months ago. Sleep is too much or too little. Appetite is zero still, and last but not least menopause is kicking my butt.

At least I’m not as reactive and emotional as I was. I can catch myself sometimes, before I start, but it can be difficult to stop once started. I feel shame because I don’t feel I have the control needed to maintain interpersonal relationships. I’m worried about it. We’re still tweaking medication though.

That’s about the size of it.

Jordan

My Goals are Still in Sight

New big ol glasses

I’m still rolling. 🙂

What an exciting few weeks. I went from mourning my old CNA to getting a new one with whom I am very well matched. Having her means I can let her do some things and leave other things to me. I can keep up with my letter writing and other forms of reaching out to people. And I can keep up with my artwork.

My goal was to re-open my Etsy shop but I’m not ready for that. I can paint and sew but right now I need to wait a little while longer. I’m ready to do the art, I’m not ready for the stress of opening up the shop and getting stuff out on time. The goal is to do so but at this time there is no tentative date.

I’m pleased that rumination has decreased, which makes thinking much easier. The depression is better under control, and my physical health is holding steady. Concentration is crap. It’s awful but at least I’m completing things even as I bounce from project to project. I have zero concentration any more.

Anxiety is wicked. I’ve changed up how I do my Delta-8 so that it will help with anxiety more and kick in sooner. Sadly there isn’t any guidance on this. It’s trial and error, but at least it’s still federally legal and the cost is still within my means.

THC brownie bites

I baked refrigerator dough cookies and brownies. I cut them into dose sizes then dripped liquid THC over the top of the goodies. Works like a charm. It can be done with THC butter, too.

THC cookie bites

My metabolism is deathly slow which is why it takes 2 hrs for a bite size edible to kick in. It lasts up to 5 hours though.

Pain is not my friend. Anxiety isn’t either, but the depression and physical pain is significantly less, which has raised my quality of life. I’m still a bit reactive but not even close to how I was. Eating is a chore but that is getting better, too.

Wow. Food prices! No matter how much food costs increase, my budget for food has not. It’s been stuck at $200 a month for a while now with no sign of change any time soon. I’m blown away by food prices. I’ve been trying to see where I can clip pennies but I’m not sure where anymore. Perhaps it’s not totally a bad thing that I have zero appetite. Amazon Fresh is so high right now that it’s straight up robbery!

Menopause – well, I haven’t gone to jail yet. A terrible hot flash at least once an hour. Decreased ability to handle stress. I click on people! An Amazon employee had me so frustrated that I asked to speak with someone else. She said, who? “I said, I don’t care, anyone but you.” I really wish I didn’t say that to her.

So, things are progressing in a manner I couldn’t see 6 months ago. I want to remember that even in the worst circumstances, everything changes. And since I am involved and invested in life, chances for positive change is strong.

I’m happy I lived long enough to truly believe and trust that things change. Youth doesn’t provide enough life experience to fully grasp that things change for the better and you can move past what feels impossible. I wish my brother could have understood that.

Writing another page of life

Faith – Morton’s Pride

Anxiety. Support. Long Haul.

I bought a second sketchbook that’s small and easy to take with me if / when I leave the house. It’s also easier to hold in bed. And for the first time in a good long time, I had to buy art supplies. I was able to get ahold of the paint needed so I’m happy with that.

Right now I’m making the art supplies area more disability friendly.

Symptoms of the clinical depression (my nervous breakdown) significantly decreased but have crept up again. After my aide left, a person with whom I felt safe) abandonment issues began to derail me. At least this time I know better than to wait to see if the depression, anxiety, etc will get better. I immediately began using the skills I’ve learned in the last year so as to never revisit that horrible-for-everyone, deep, hollow place.

I remember thinking that everyone has an invisible line that represents a division between coping and totally losing it. It feel like as long as I don’t cross that line I’ve still got hope of getting better. Well I blew past that line and had no way on my own to get back. I couldn’t reach inside and pull up strength because I was hollow. There was nothing to pull from. I couldn’t even stop or control the emotions anymore. I felt stranded in the middle of the open sea.

I’m not where I was last time but some of the symptoms are troubling. The decline began shortly after being triggered by the loss of a CNA I felt safe with. Right now I am regrouping and using new skills so I don’t again completely fall to pieces.

I’m grateful for art. I can’t believe I did that mental health crisis with very little art. I had no way to redirect anxiety so it felt like it just sat inside eating away at me.

My included art piece shows individuals with solid black skin. I noticed the color of the shirts as being significant. The person who reflects my current state is wearing an orange shirt. I don’t think I’ve drawn my sister, me and my mother together in at least 5 years. This time it’s definitely all three of us, with me in the orange shirt with one foot and extra long arms.

When I looked at the chart created to record color significance, I could see a bit more into what I’m actually feeling. Come to find out, it’s very much representative of what’s going on in my life right now and what I’ve been thinking about.

The Art Therapy gallery explains color and symbol significance.

  • Orange: Fleeting courage or self doubt, ambiguity,
  • Purple: Self worth, pride
  • Black: Emptiness, vacant, does not exist, emotional death
  • Red: Strength, courage, empowered

My mother has been on my mind quite a bit because of my menopause symptoms. I remember seeing some of this as a kind.

I remember one winter my mother only wore a long, thin, black trench coat (it was the 80s ok) despite the fact that it was freezing cold. Several years later she had it so cold in the house that I wore a jogging suit to bed. Fast forward to 2022. The heat is still off. I had no idea menopause would be so life disruptive. My friend said her severe covid was easier than menopause. Wow.

Lastly, I did finish stealing the art piece but I’ve not put new art up for sale. I’m not certain I’m ready for that step just yet. I’m just going to keep at the art while working on emotional issues.

Faith

Wheelchair Life: Grow Where You Want to Grow

I’m in my feelings today. I feel very limited, if not left behind. I’m mad at wheelchair life right now.

I truly enjoyed being at the park with friends for a bonfire back in October. That was so healing. Right now though, I long to wander, to hike trails and sit under a tree with my dog. I miss that today.

P17fieldfma - on the easel

I hope to get an electric wheelchair soon which would let me get to the front of the building, down a very long ramp then finally on the sidewalk. The sidewalk stops at the property line. No sidewalks. That’s a problem. We’ve lost 2 residents in 5 years bc they rolled in the street. I’m not doing that. There’s simply no where to go off property that’s wheelchair accessible.

I can’t tell you the longing I have to go outside my window and get to those beautiful rocks. I was told that our screens raise up. I don’t have to take it out then struggle to get it back in. I’ll have care again soon so I might test that.

The best way to manage my aching heart here is to do something for others. I feel like a trapped animal right now. Well, let me get outside this trap by reaching out.

Sitting in the grass keeping my problems in perspective

I’m so happy to say that my pen pal list has maxed out. It’s full. I actually have 20 letters that go exclusively to the elderly in nursing homes. They write back 🙂 Also, all the spots for plant homecare / babysitting are full.

I just added a monstera deliciosa from a wonderful person who needs nursing home care due to dementia. These’s a spider plant, monstera, rex begonia and an African violet that I’m looking after. Most are of memory care patients but one is from a person who takes care of her grandfather who has dementia.

It feels good to help with their favorite plants that they’ve taken care of for a long time. It’s something I can give to my friends who have been so giving to me.

There’s a plant that belonged to three generations of very lovely people. I’m so honored! Being able to take the plant torch is an amazing feeling.

Faith

Life in Pictures – The Assignment

My abandonment issues have raged since the exit of the CNA I adored. She’s been gone for a week now. It’s affected my trust issues, paranoia and OCD issues. Going through the week with her knowing she would be gone in a few days was rather difficult.

I can feel the anxiety and emotion in my throat. I’ve been dealing with it by concentrating on art, plants and the cat. I’ve done so very little volunteer work. Argh.

Poor Joe is going to need a lightweight shirt to wear for the winter. My menopausal symptoms have affected heating the apartment. I can’t take this heat! I had it so the heat would come on at 65 degrees even while I have an 8 inch strong wind fan blowing on me. It’s not good right now LOL I’ve only turned the heat on about 3x since the season changed. How is it possible to be anemic and have hot flashes hourly, daily!

There was a day again where Joe seemed to have trouble with his front paws so I made him a bed, this time it’s on the floor. I would have made a box bed for him but my cat hates boxes. He doesn’t get in them. As a matter of fact, Joe runs when he sees a box or plastic bag. Yeah, he’s odd.

I thought I’d try to track the barometric pressure so I can kind of anticipate his arthritis pain and mine. Getting too cold will only make matters worse for him. I hope getting a lightweight shirt will help. It needs to be light bc cats can overheat too easily.

When Joe isn’t wearing his shirt I could let him use his bed with a safe heating pad that auto shuts off every 2 hours. I can set it to a low temperature and put it under his blankets, like I did last time.

I’ve done nothing more with designing Frog Mansion. It’s set up nicely but it’s not finished. I’ve done nothing to the Tomato Frog Apartment 🙂 I’m not calling it that LOL It’s just that it pales in significance beside Frog Mansion where my Australian Green Tree Frogs live. Anyway, I intend to work on it at the the beginning of December, at which time I’ll also add more soil and leaf litter to the Mansion.

Putting many of my houseplants in the mansion didn’t give back as much space as I thought but it has helped me simplify my watering system. Now I water plants 3 days out of 7 instead of daily. And it only takes anywhere from 20 min to an hour to water. I love how simple it is now.

I’m uncertain if I spoke of my hope plant. I’m seriously in love with this plant bc it’s name is my favorite word; hope. It’s in the peperomia family, which I’ve come to enjoy lately.

I would be lying if I said I’m not going to buy more plants but I will say they’ll have to wait bc I’m going to need paint. I’d like to get to Hobby Lobby but I don’t think it’s going to happen. It would save money though. I’ve never purchased from their website.

I’m stuck on the art piece in the photos because I now regret adding the ghost-like memories leading to and through the house. I’m not certain how I’ll make it look right. I’d remove them if so many other images weren’t dependent on the ghost-like memories.

I’ve got a completed painting that I’m determined to completely seal by Monday. I seal paintings in very small areas at a time because I don’t want pooling, running or gaps in the seal. I’m not going to spray it, so it’ll take a little time.

I’m not sure why I’m procrastinating. In general I’m not a procrastinator but I’ve been putting this off for 3 weeks. I’m having trouble letting go. I think I’ve been unsettled and I’m holding on to things.

To also unsettle me are the recent mass shootings, three back to back with a horrific quadruple knife murder. I don’t even know how to process this stuff and manage my own horrors.

I check the news online once a day, from various sources.

I will continue to have zero friends on my Facebook page so I can limit the amount of exposure to politics and the hatred it produces.

Despite the fact that the world has gone mad, I feel 99% like my normal depressed, anxious, dissociative self. Do I feel strong? No. I feel prepared and supported. I feel I better understand this part of the assignment.

Faith

Doing new things in this old life

For the moment all is quiet in Frog Mansion. I’m exhausted and frankly over it. I guess the only thing left is for everything to grow in. The frogs are certainly enjoying the extra room.

I put together a 5 gallon aquarium as my prop box for plants I’ll use in building terrariums offered on Marketplace.

Poor Joe had a bad day. He was hurting just like me. I set up a little bed for him with a heating pad that I can set the temperature and the amount of time I want. It may have been overkill but I made sure he had one area cooler than the other so he could move if he wanted less heat. That’s his favorite blanket right there. Fortunately he’s doing much better.

I’ve been able to get out a bit more which has been tiring yet wonderful. I’ll be able to work at the carts that Jehovah’s Witnesses stand at downtown and in public areas. Yay! I’m going to be at the carts. I’m so excited! I love it. I love it. I cleaned the wheelchair really well. Got the wheels shining. Lol

Tonight I was able to laugh and joke with friends. We were all in a huddled in a circle just laughing with each other. It was great.

It’s so helpful to be able to get out of my little home and share with friends and strangers.

Tonight I felt my age which is not common for a multiple. But we were talking about being young in the past tense. We talked about how the young never expect to get older. I especially never thought about all that would stop working at 50. Wow. I think my left knee retired at 50. What happened to my teeth? My eye sight left the building, too. Excuse me but, I’m not ok with my hair thinning! Is it medication taking its toll or menopause, or both? Are my kidneys and heart getting in on the havoc, too? Gracious.

Menopause is still kicking my butt. It’s tearing me up! Wow. I’ve figured out that my symptoms peek every 3 weeks and that the most difficult symptoms to pop up are irritation and rage. That’s harder to manage than the constant brain fog.

Oh my gosh, the cravings. I was all over chocolate for like 2 months now I can’t live without popcorn. I’m stocked up on ACT 2 Extreme Butter as if we’re about to have a popcorn famine. I have to stop bc right now I still don’t have high blood pressure or high cholesterol. That might change if I am unable to get these cravings under control.

Another menopause issue is how easily I gain weight. It’s like the person across the table is eating cake but I’m the one who gains the weight. Due to kidney stuff and other health issues, I don’t even eat but 4 meals out of 7 days. My body is storing fat and water bc of how often it goes without. This has been a problem my entire life.

I am unable to tell when I’m hungry or thirsty. I never recognize hunger until it dawns on me that it’s 9pm and I’ve had nothing at all to eat. Today’s water intake is less than 20 oz of fluids. It’s not good at all.

I grab a cup of jello or apple sauce then go to bed. That’s it, for days in a row. I would be lying if I said I’m going to try to do better.

For some reason, the thought of using an alarm to remind myself to eat angers me. It feels like I’m being forced to do something I don’t want to do, use energy to make something to eat. After the hospitalization it became difficult to eat alone. I don’t know. It’s not good.

Art. I’m working on details in my new paintings. I’m correcting lines, adding cross hatching and shadows.

This is complete

One painting is complete. I’m so happy about that.

I llike the butterfly on her wrist

I’ve been processing the amputation in art. The above painting shows an amputation as well as another piece I started.

For the first time in forever, I need paint. It feels odd buying art supplies for some reason. I wonder if I’ll feel the same excitement when opening the Amazon box? I guess we’ll see.

Well, while nothing in this life is perfect, I’ve got few complaints right now. I’m ok, I think.

Faith

Bonfire. Dissociative Identity Disorder.

Bonfire. The most exciting news is that I was able to go to the bonfire my friends had. It was wonderful! I got to pet a cute puppy ??. Then when it got dark the kids put glow sticks on. They made glow stick glasses, ears and bracelets then played tag in the dark. It was one of the most pure things I’ve seen in a long time.

Sitting there with my friends I thought back to when I asked why I even survived the events of 2018. Life was unbearable and I wonder why on earth I survived just to feel so hopeless. Now the public health emergencies have ended and I don’t need to isolate any longer. So I went to the bonfire and laughed with friends I’ve known from 10 to 30 years. There were smores, BBQ and innocent fun. That is why I survived 2018. Moments like the night of the bonfire, that is what I survived for!

I was in the hospital 2 weeks ago which totally freaked me out and triggered PTSD issues. I managed it though.

I had the opportunity to put my feet in grass again, which was the first time since the amputation. Unfortunately, I can’t feel the grass anymore, there’s just not enough feeling in that foot. Later I thought about how I can put my palms in the grass instead of trying to feel it on the surviving foot. It’s also come to my attention that I can do grounding / earthing with the palms of my hands …… I find it interesting that when primarily people of color didn’t wear shoes it was a reason to call us uncivilized. Now it’s earthing / grounding.

DID and Mental Health Its noteworthy that during my mental health breakdown during the pandemic, I had a split. I’ve done so much work integrating but I’m susceptible to splitting again, and I have. I talked to Dr D about it bc I recognized 2 people here who had been integrated. It’s taken a few months for me to be certain that Maureen and Crystal have split off again. I’m not a doctor so I can’t give specifics on how, but I’m 100% certain of it. I’m kind of embarrassed.

It was the assault that sealed my decision not to further integrate. I have who I have. Lol. Of course I’m staying in therapy, it’s just not with the goal of integration.

So this is my long, drawn out entry about all that’s happening over here on Sundrip and in the last few weeks. ???? Some things are trying, but I’ve made a lot of progress on the new psych meds. I’m pleased with the spot I’m in. I can now stand to be in my skin.

Thanks for hanging in and reading my updates.

Until soon,

Faith

Words to yourself matter, choose them wisely

Over a week ago I saw my nurse practitioner. We talked about the PTSD from the hospitalization in 2018. I told her that I just can’t paint anymore. I added, “When the legs failed and my foot was amputated, so too was the art in me.” Well, I’ve said that before. I’ve been saying it for nearly two years, but that time I truly heard myself say it and I knew I believe it. That’s a problem for me. Don’t tell me I can’t do this anymore. I was mad at myself. How dare I speak to myself that way?! I can’t be the person I was born as? I won’t accept that.

Point blank, I was born an artist. That art comes in many forms; culinary arts, painting, making dolls and creating terrariums. I’m driven to make things in an artistic way. The only way I stop being an artist is when I stop breathing. It was close back in 2018. Even still I want to be in an artsty urn. It’s already been chosen cause y’all can’t put me in any ol’ thing. I’m just happy I’m not in said artsy urn right now.

When I realized I actually believed that I can no longer paint, like I said, I was mad. Later that evening I got out my paints and started painting. While painting I remembered saying something very important to myself – It doesn’t matter if it’s good, just enjoy the process. That’s the moment things changed.

It doesn’t matter if it’s good! I was willing to have the art piece fail and that is significant. Before getting new depression meds and having a little more clarity, I was too afraid to fail. It felt like I was a failure instead of the art piece not working out. But this time I didn’t internalize its possible outcome. That’s how I know I’m in a different space. I was able to separate the two. I’ve been painting for over a week now. I’m risking a bit more and it feels good.

I didn’t die in 2018. I’m still an artist through and through. Regardless of any amputation, there’s no way to amputate my art. I can’t tell you how relieved I am. I worked hard to get to this day. Oh my goodness I worked hard from the day they told me I wasn’t going to make it until this day. I’ve worked hard. It hasn’t been pretty, at all. Some things I messed up beyond fixing. I know I’ve hurt people by spilling anger or responding while unhealthy instead of just walking away. Why did this happen? Because I’m a speck of dust like everyone else and I do and say reckless things. But I am not a vicious person, just a profoundly imperfect one battling mental health and physical health.

I understand something now. You’d think I grasped this four years ago but I didn’t. I understand that I didn’t die in 2018.

My entire life changed. I can’t walk anymore but I’m alive. I’m extremely limited, but I’m alive! The person I knew myself to be left the hospital and the nursing home, then moved here. I don’t need to be afraid to live.

I was living this life of “why bother, I’m just going to fall over dead anyway. ” I was afraid to live, make attachments and risk a little because I just didn’t want to lose anything else. I feel like I lost so much in 2018 that the thought of losing anything else was unbearable. I was afraid to live. I’m in a better spot but I’m not OK. There’s so much more physical healing and emotional healing to do. I no longer worry I’ll have to endure it without my art.

What I’ve learned is that I believe the words I say to myself. I know you reap what you sew. If I plant tomatoes I get tomatoes. It works that way with words too. I was planting fear in my garden and that’s exactly what I got. Words matter. What I say to myself matters.

Art work – The painting changed quite a bit from when I started. It’s a collage now. And true to form, I’m working on multiple art pieces at once. My studio mascot Joe Schmoe is helping with quality control. He’s such a good studio cat and mascot.

I’ve been putting art in people’s homes since 2007. My 2023 art goal is to fill my own walls with my artwork. It’s time I did that. I’ll give an Etsy update soon.

Speak kindly to yourselves,

Until soon,

Faith

Sculpture with found items

I was searching through a catch-all art drawer. It’s got the stray button, string, cut paper, this, that and the other. Two days ago I was looking in that drawer, for who knows what, when I stumbled upon a split rock I’d written the word “hope” on. I put in on the table and kept looking. Then I stumbled on another split rock in a pear shape. When I put it next to the Hope rock my brain started ticking.

I am powerful – Hope

I abandoned the first search and concentrated on finishing the body to the figure. I used my own handmade beads for the hands. The 2 rocks are ones I picked up from the grounds of the nursing home back in 2018. I found 4 goose feathers I’ve had forever.

To top it all off I found a pop top that says, I am powerful.

Not for sale

I wrapped it with jute and glued it together with Mod Podge. I need to get a fine tooth comb so I can make the feathers neater.

This felt good especially since it was so spontaneous. I’m not the most spontaneous person in the world, I’m quite the opposite.

I hope I am regaining a little bit of trust. That’s the only thing that will allow art to flow from me again – trust. It never occurred to me to pray for trust but I have been recently.

Here’s what I was thinking – I firmly believe that when a person goes against nature that it hurts. At this point my lack of trust for anything at all prevents me from doing what is in my nature to do. I create stuff. I’m an artist from head to toe, however, I’ve not been able to do what comes naturally to me and it’s starting to hurt. I feel like a bird in a cage. Like the big cats at the zoo who pace back and forth at the bars. I feel that kind of anxiety since I’ve created so little.

Trust. I have to regain it. Courage is needed to trust. When it comes to art I need the courage to fail. I need self confidence so if an art piece doesn’t turn out I’ll keep it in perspective. The art piece didn’t turn out but it doesn’t mean I personally am a failure. All of those things changed during the hospitalization. The amputation is harder to accept and has affected my self esteem negatively.

I’ve commented that art was amputated too, but that’s not possible. But trust got shattered. I was walking my dog when my life forever changed without warning. How am I to trust “the moment” now? I don’t, not much.

I’ve been able to find relief from physical pain but my very core needs relief. The best way to sooth it is to create, trust and create. What is special about this sculpture is that its made from items I had before the hospitalization, during and after. The only part from this side of the hospitalization is the cap that says hope.

There’s so much work to do to regain my equilibrium. One step at a time, they say.

Faith

An environment that fosters creativity

It’s been a year since I finished a painting or started on a new doll but I feel like I’m at a place in my physical and emotional health to get to sewing again.

I look tired and I’ve got dark circles under my eyes but today was still a good day. This is the feeling that I lost with CNAs. Peace. I feel a measure of peace in my home again. I’m not emotionally healthy but I’ve still regained the peaceful, welcoming feeling in my home.

It’s been a good day

I believe one of the major blocks I had that kept me from creating much was the way I began to view the apartment. It started to feel more felt like a hospital than my home. Instead of feeling able and capable, I ended up in patient mode like in the hospital when I had no control over anything.

Another issue that I’m correcting is my lack of privacy. This efficiency apartment displays everything I own. I don’t like that so I made some changes to my furniture to gain more privacy. I honestly think when I’m better able to feel less on display and gain more peace at home that I’ll have taken a big step towards trusting my environment. When I feel I can trust again that is when some sort of painting will take place. Who knows what style of painting I’ll have. One should not have any expectations as to style.

Several times this week I came close to grabbing my sketch book but I couldn’t do it. The wall separating me from painting is weaker but still stands. Well, between surviving 2018 followed by Trumpism, Coronavirus, the recession, war and monkeypox, my ability to trust the moment got shattered. I’m happy to say it feels like I’m close to rebuilding an atmosphere conducive to creativity which includes sewing and painting. I’ve been working hard on building blocks so art can feel safe enough to happen.

I plan to be full swing into sewing even before the next ten days of bedrest ends. This will total 30 days on bed rest which has been torture.

In-home care is going very well. I feel secure with it. I know I’ll be able to have reliable help when I make messes. I also have two people to assist with getting items mailed out on time. I feel like I’ve done a lot of preparation….. and procrastination. lol

I’ve even narrowed down which days of the week I’m going to concentrate on sewing and days I’ll use for writing letters to elderly people. Basically I’m making sure I have what I need to succeed.

I refuse to make dolls in bed. I won’t lie, I’m up all the time. I’m going to steal an hour or so a few days a week and just return to bed after I’m done.

I’ve got back issues and a muscle spasm that stretches from the middle of my back all the way around to my navel. It feels like a belt. It’s stressing the bowel and bladder.

I’m on some strong meds and muscle relaxers 3x a day which means I’ll be sewing by hand at first. I don’t want a OUI – operating machinery under the influence of meds. lol Really though, I could get hurt so I’ll sew by hand until it’s safe enough to get on the machine.

You know what? My memory foam mattress remembers too much 🙂 Bed rest and memory foam are not friends. I’ve put an outline of my body in my memory foam mattress because of staying in it so long. lol…. I had to have my friend I call Mary Poppins aka Mary to turn my mattress around so I can put a body outline in the other side. lol Thank goodness it’s just a twin bed. It’s not terribly heavy to turn to the other side.

Anyway… as far as the type of dolls I’ll create, I’ve already got an idea in mind that I’d like to develop. The dolls will be sad dolls and some others will have body irregularities. One should not expect happy, wide eyed little girls, cause I don’t do those. I could only paint what was in my heart, it’s the same with sewing. I can’t relate to a grinning, happy, bubbly doll, but I can relate to and create dolls like Shiloh. She is a little soulful girl, full of emotion in her big brown eyes.

Shiloh by Sundrip

I’m nervous about sewing “sad dolls” because I’m not certain how they’ll go over in my Etsy shop. I made 3 a year ago or so. I sold one and kept two for myself.

While going through and sorting doll clothes I found a doll I thought I’d sold. This is Sweet Pea hanging out in a tree.

Sweet Pea by Sundrip

I don’t know what I originally named her but she has a new name since she’s staying with me.

Sweet Pea by Sundrip

She makes me smile with her rosy cheeks and her little shoes. I just adore her. She and Shiloh are part of my private collection.

I will have another doll update soon. Hopefully I can report that I’ve got everything cut out and that I’m started on sewing.

My Etsy shop is still closed for the time being, but you can visit the galleries here on Sundrip and you can purchase prints from my Redbubble shop.

Until soon,

Faith