Magic
“GOOD MEDICINE”, 2005, 20″ x 12″ x 5″, ceramic, granite, giant porcupine quills
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How can food act as such a neurotoxin, I ask you?
I was rolling around in the world just fine and then had brown rice pasta the other night for dinner.
BAM!
Cathy wakes up close to paralyzed.
When food affects me in this way it takes 48 hours to leave my system and I can literally feel my body reawakening inch by inch.
This morning I am whiney and angry and bordering on scared.
When my body shuts down like this I can’t stop myself from thinking this is the way it will always be.
I am so far away from God and Grace this morning that I am asking for magic.
Magic… are you out there? Can you hear me? Will you send me some hope-in-a-box? What foods will you have me eat to sustain me and make me strong? Can you hear me? Is my voice too small this morning? Could you put on your hearing aide as I haven’t the energy to amplify today.
(I guess Magic has issues as well… comforting, somehow.)
Art of Containment
untitled, 2007, 14″ x 4″ x 2″, ceramic, STEEL
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This sculpture actually has a pouch in it like a kangaroo.
I have been practicing the art of containing my energy when I am out in the world to make sure I am being very deliberate when choosing to be in relationship.
Am I having a bad day and sliming everyone around me with my own private hell?
Or am I feeling so good that I indiscriminately make sure that everyone knows?
Perhaps I am tired and slogging through a day subtly pissed off at everyone and thing until I can be home to rest.
Even just getting out of the car after hearing a favorite song and still so IN it that I miss the curb completely.
The almost boredom of an ‘even’ life can send me into a dash to stir things up by complaining to a friend about something that didn’t matter a hoot to me an hour ago.
And so… I am practicing containing my energy so as not to cause more of a ripple effect than I intend to.
Everyone has enough of their own personal theater to think that they are always happy to add mine to their mix.
I am just experimenting with how it feels to have my life experience and be VERY choosy and aware as to how I spread it around.
This is sort of hard, I am finding.
But the core of it feels very right and good.
Next Chapter
untitled, 2005, each = 30″ h x 5″, ceramic
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Lately, I feel as if I’d like to crawl deep into the layers of a form like this.
I am not sure who I am as a woman after so much damn time with MS at the helm in my life.
I am sick of my life being so ‘body centric’ as I move toward health.
Where is the woman in here??????????????
The flirty girl who can feel the heat of a good man.
I almost wish someone could shake me out of it…
The ‘it’ being the almost perpetually neutralized state of survival and ‘fall down / get up,’ and pills and hypervigilance while walking and the work it takes to re-create a life when the other one fades.
I want to feel those fluttery butterflies in my stomach as I appreciate a beautiful man.
I really need a jolt out of this sedentary life.
I just noticed that almost every sentence in this post begins with an I. “I want. I need….”
Perhaps this is a sign I am bored with this particular piece of my healing and the next one needs to include some female-enhancing elements.
Maybe some wooing and carnal pleasure.
IS THE GIRL STILL IN HERE????????????????
Intriguing Territory
Well… I am off once again to Colorado Springs to work with the frequency medicine I am having such great results with. I spend my days seeing the physicist twice a day then come back to cool linens in the hotel and stay there till I do it again the next day. It may LOOK like nothing is happening but you can be sure I have gratitude I’m not expected to perform any gymnastic feat this week…
I’ll be back online next Saturday.
In the meantime:
Here are some things that have sparked my interest and perhaps they will for you as well:
I tried to keep them fun and short.. xxxxxx
2.
photos that changed the world
6.
Best of YouTube in 4 minutes
Under the Bridge
“PYLON”, 2008, 7′ x 20″ x 4″, ceramic, earth, wood
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The inspiration for this piece was my fascination with all the stuff that ends up congregated in a group growing beneath the water line under a dock or bridge.
The life that sends it’s tentacles out and grabs hold of the solid and sure thing of the wooden pylon.
Such a big mish-mash of things.
And yet- they all end up together in this one place making a home for themselves.
Related, in that the ocean or lake keeps on washing up against them and they stay put mostly, I think.
The whole thing reminds me of my own life; peopled with characters shiny and not..
I get the nicest feeling when I think of all of us: “Cathy’s clan (including critters, unmet souls, intimate strangers, inner circle people and favorite rocks..) all of us doing this thing called LIFE.
For the past two years I have pulled in to recalibrate.
My brand of healing needs silence and empty space.
If I’m not attached to myself as a ’sick’ person, which I am not, there must be room and an invitation to let the ocean wash over me in all it’s saltiness and take the buffet of the waves intent on claiming me for their own.
The solace comes from those around me doing the same thing..
Just barely holding our ground waiting for the still waters on the other side of the storm.
There, we can relax into the ease of ‘no fight’, put up our feet and have a margarita or two.
Enjoy the press of each other’s company.
‘Till the waves start pickin’ up again.
Thrive
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The installation pictured above is one of my favorites.
Of course, the home it is installed in ain’t too shabby but that aside..
I like it.
I like it because it is so very edited down to nothing extraneous happening there.
I also have a deep connection to the piece because it feels like a self-portrait.
The forms wouldn’t be of interest without the shadows.
The piece is alive as the sun moves through out the day and changes the mood of the work.
There’s that one renegade element insistent on not remaining in formation.
It tells a story from left to right as it begins with the meditation of slow and careful consideration; one foot in front of the other. Not drawing too much attention to ones’ self.
THEN.. it hits the abyss (the doorway) and all hell breaks loose..
Elements scatter and find their own way to spots that feel comfortable to attach to.
They are never really alone but always in relationship to one another though the tension between elements tightens and relaxes as the journey continues.
There is a sense of freedom but also chaos.
They seem to be drawn to the light and make their way in that direction, following the draw of the heat of day.
And this whole journey is a pretty accurate record of my own.
Order and chaos…
We go into both of those places almost moment by moment, don’t we?
I always get stuck when I like one state better than the other..
Or I am SURE the spot on the line is where I’ll stay the rest of my life.
How is it that reality feels so damned carved in stone?
I hate it that I can’t seem to remember in the midst of my body collapsing or my heart breaking that REALITY IS CHANGE…. ONLY CHANGE.
I find such peace in that.
Whenever I can remember to remember.
Disappointment
untitled, porcelain, 6" x 3" x 3"
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I had made plans to go riding this morning after the long winter’s whack.
My body just isn’t cooperating.
If I counted the times I have said I’d be somewhere and, in the end, could not,
I’d crawl back into bed.
Which is what I may do anyway.
Not out of anything other than general physical weariness..
Who am I kidding?
It is downright depressing at times to deal with this condition that won’t let me do what I WANT TO DO!
Little deaths every day don’t really do it for me.
I really do such a great job of staying on top of the emotional quagmire of this thing.
I do give myself that.
But the grief.. the grief of sitting with the knowledge that my diet MUST be this way or my money goes to THIS thing or my body WON’T do what I want or my hand is no longer the one to make art…
Well.. It’s a post-graduate path to be sure.
But the only advisors I can check in with that I trust have my best interest in mind are myself and God.
It really is one of those 3-dimensional chess boards that provide the playing field for those dealing with a chronic illness.
Interesting when you make a good move,
And psyche-flattening when you CAN’T.
Renegade
detail of "THRIVE", 2008, ceramic
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All you need is one…
One new thought, or belief or action
To change your point-of-view
And have the possibility of healing.
The MS road is arduously packed with vague promises and suppositions.
It feels so good to believe.
Like a religion, almost.
Believing gives us a place to belong.
To be seen in the ‘context-familiar.’
And belief is a powerfully transformative tool.
A community acting together can jive in a way that scoots evolution along in a quantum way.
Remember the 100th monkey phenomenon.
But it takes just one..
One lone cowboy
Comin’ into town
Dirty and wrinkled from the loneliness and stigma of riding fast and free.
Just one thought outside-the-box
And poof!
We got ourselves light years down this rocky road in an instant.
You gotta BELIEVE in healing to heal.
It feels like a warm fuzzy at times to belong to the walking wounded.
You belong! There’s ALWAYS a shared interest at parties as EVERY BODY knows suffering. Who’s your Doctor? Where’s your pain? What pill? What sorrow? What fear?
YUK..
Boring, boring.
I’m tending toward hitching a ride with that cowboy.
Destination unknown.
But the possibilities are endless.
Instead of securely carved in stone.
Where the Sun Don’t Shine
"UNDERBELLY", 2008, 20" x 8" x 5", ceramic
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‘Round these parts in Santa Fe where the sun shines 300 days out of the year, we get a little skittish when it doesn’t.
We blame our dour moods on the barometric pressure.
But really, we’re quite addicted to the light.
The huge population of ‘Santa Fe ’seekers’ tend always toward the light.
The darkness holds no elan.
The shadows are full of stuff it takes too much energy to see.
Nothing looks as pretty or resolved or ordered there.
In between the parts of me I have scanned and tended to and ‘fixed’,
Are pockets of yet unexplored territory.
I shun them.
Push them to the back of the room.
Relegate them to the back 40…
Sometimes, like this morning, they scratch persistently at the edge of a dream.
Their face oddly familiar but I don’t want to answer the door.
They seem messy.
Unkept. Hollow.
Needy of my attention.
I say: “NO.”
“You may not have me.”
I fiercely protect the good life I’ve achieved. The sunny Spring day.
But tucked under their arm, I see the glint of a golden thing..
Stained by perspiration and smelling a bit foul.
And still… there it is: SOMETHING I WANT IS THERE!
And I must invite them in if I’m to have any chance at all
Of a life of freedom to act and react and MOVE and create
From an untainted place
Of undefended life.
So…
Come on in.. you burly, revolting creature
I’ve built a nice looking cage for.
Come on in and have your way.
I’m a pretty good wrestler so be prepared to drop your gold
And scoot out the door
After I rip off your masks and take a strong bar of soap to your pernicious scent.
We’ll both be the better for it.
Energy
"RAIN", 2008, 10' x 12' x 3", ceramic, nails
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“The antidote to exhaustion is whole-heartedness.”
I love that.
I don’t know the man’s name who said it but he lived his life as a monk.
Joseph Campbell said it in a different way: something like; ‘what dire disappointment should one realize that after a lifetime of climbing up the ladder, they were headed up the wrong tree altogether.’
When I think about what WHOLE-HEARTEDNESS means to me, it goes something like this:
There is a distinct difference between living a rational life and one guided by the heart.
If one is tuned toward that song, you’ll never have the luxury of being quite sure what or who will turn up.
And because you have left the door open and a light in the window for authenticity to find you and carve out it’s nest,
There is surely not too long to wait ’till the next miracle arrives..
No matter what it’s costume.
It / he/ she may be totally unrecognizable to you.
The clothes tattered or design outdated.
Rest assured there is a reason.
And take immense pleasure in the story as it unfolds.
Or don’t as the case may be.
But know your life has no taste for four walls.
Because some thing awaits.
Not of your own imagining or making.
A new thing.
An intuition, a tear, an inspiration, a recovery, some small noticing…
A life lived REAL.
And THAT right there, is what lights my fuse..