touchstone

This is an ode to my Bu. Bu who drags me away from my computer when I am ready to explode with stress and makes me go hike up the hill across from our property. Bu who holds me when I'm sobbing for the most inane reasons and doesn't ask why. Bu who used to live in a tent near the New River and guide whitewater rafting trips and who is like a masculine version of a water nymph, and who will snort at me for writing that.

It was an amazing day, and we went to the woods and he told me about playing there when he was little, and the dogs played. Mollybird was at church with the grandies and it was the first "date" we've had in ages. I found a little stone to take home to help ground me when the work stressed me out too much. Looking for the perfect stone was fun and silly and I was delighted like a little kid on a treasure hunt when I found the right one.

I had little anxiety relapses afterward, but Bu still helped immensely. He's an amazing force of calm and centeredness when my energy's scattered and crazy. He steered me through the hardest time in my life, and I'm so amazed at the way he manages to do this without patronizing me or letting me sink. Just perfect balance and support.

well, hi? how are ya? i totally missed you yesterday...

Our internet service was down all day yesterday. I had a lot of offline work to do, so it wasn't a loss. I spent way too much time turning this:

into this:
It's the background of a cover for a client's huge-to-me 5o-something page catalog which I can't think too much about or I get a little embryo of an anxiety attack in my gut. It's a bigger project than I've ever done, and I'm still wobbly on my InDesign feet, and it the dealine iscomingthisfastohmygods.

Meanwhile, in Molly Tooth Watch 2007, we have one still in the just-broken-through stage on the bottom, and a matching top one, as well as one you can see pretty well on the top, if you catch the 1/778678332 of a second glimpse you're allowed before she rebels. The nursing-biting has abated for now, so I no longer flinch every time she latches on.

In the land of me-separate-from-Molly, I keep getting compliments on my baby elephant post from people in real life, who I totally forgot read my blog. It's disorienting and yet very cool. The comments on the post were so encouraging and awesome. Thanks:)

Oh, I meant to post this on Thor's journal, but due to previously mentioned ISP tragedy, I didn't. And now I'm lazy, natch, so I'll postie here:

Happy Belated, L'il Bit:) Many awesome parties this spring. The Souster's "Irish twins*" will be 5 and 6 (holy shit!) in March/April, and Molly'll be a year (holy holy shit!) in May.

*Did I just use a racial slur? Am I allowed if I have a stray ancesetor or two from Ireland somewhere in the mix? What if I named my daughter Molly Shayne**? Does that help?

**Shayne is actually Hebrew (or Yiddish?) for "beautiful." See footer on blog. I was reading Prodigal Summer one very pregnant day, when I read an allusion to the poem, and I convinced Bu, aka Shane, that we had a new spelling (not Shane) for the Birdie's middle name. If we ever have a boy his middle name will be Heidi; it's only fair***.

***and now I stop being silly, and wishing I knew how to do actual footnotes to a blog entry, and get my ass back to work.

pulsate

Thordora's giving away an intriguing book about genetic mutations to a random reader who blogs about her/his own oddity. The post came a few days after a photoshoot with Bu when I noticed that I was always turning my arm away from the camera. I have had a tension between embracing the strangeness that is my body and wanting desperately to fade into the background. I've never made art about my birth defect, and it seemed like a perfect chance to explore it a little.
The photo Bu took is really beautiful I think, and it's weird how that surprises me. The digital collage is filled with personally empowering symbols... text from the Malleus Malleficarum, the book used by medieval witchfinders alludes to my neverending gothgirl delight that in more ignorant times my arm might have been called a "devil's mark." The Hindu god Ganesha is the patron Lord of the deformed and they served as priestesses in His temples. The mirror, a stormy sky, just moody layers. An atique ticket to a circus, because I love the idea of being freaky today. I'm showing you the simple file beneath, too- because I didn't want to hide under a Photoshop veil.

As far as genetics, there's never been a real answer. It kind of looks like Amniotic Band Syndrome, but I had some organ deformities too which can't be explained that way. I had a wall separating my uterus and vagina in two which had to be operated on. The scarring is a huge reason Molly's birth was complicated... I also have three kidneys. I remember waking in the night early in pregnancy in a cold terror that Molly would have my birth defects, and being so confused and confounded by feeling so scared. It seemed like that worry undermined my own sense of comfort with my body. When the nurse told me she saw one hand in her mouth and one by her side, then counted tiny shadowy fingers with me the relief was amazing.

When I was little, I thought my arm looked like a baby elephant, and it became a nickname, and later, another reason to love Ganesha.

cave womyn

I've been deep in hibernation this week- nursing myself through a nasty cold with hot toddies, Sudafed (accompanied by an arsenal of oatmeal and brewer's yeast and vast lakes of water to preserve my milk supply,) and soup. The weather has only added to my insulated feeling. We had a pretty serious snow- maybe five inches, which is great for our area in these days of global warming. Molly caught a bit of the cold, but seems much more comfortable than I was at the worst.

Tomorrow I'm planning to emerge from my coccoon to tend to grocery shopping and a serious housecleaning. This house is driving me insane. Chaos has taken up permanent residence and I must drive Her out.

Bu is joining me in a renaissance mood lately. We are reinventing our attitudes and healing the fragmented craziness of our lives. We cemented our commitment to change by buying a copy of The Secret DVD. I feel a little flaky jumping on board the self-help machine after getting giddy seeing these guys on Oprah, but that's totally what happened. I'm more excited that Bu and I got hyped about the same idea that I about the actual idea I think. It just seems like a good dose of positivity and a good reminder of how important thinking purposefully is. I really think one's focus creates one's reality (if that's not a direct Jedi quote it's close, lol) but I don't live that way, and I need to. We need to. So, I'll post after viewing the DVD to see if I'm as excited as I imagine I'll be. There's probably a whole post in me somewhere about my desire for self improvement. Hence the "evolution..." tagline.

Map of my brain: hibernate --> cave--> womb --> da Vinci drawing --> my old digital sketch from when I was insane thinking I was pregnant and knowing I was but being terrified I wasn't for some unknown reason only explainable by the fact that I was indeed pregnant and my whole body was flooded with strange new hormones. I forgot until I found the file that I called it "My Own Red Place."

During the Great Hibernation of 2007, I read Life of Pi. It was fantastic. Molly was unphased by the passages I read to her, but then she's really more focused on learning to finger-feed herself, the strange technique of crawling she invented (on hands and one foot, dragging the other leg,) and practicing standing alone then thudding on her booty.

charge of the goddess

A piece of art for my dear UU friend, who is also a Mary-revering pagan. The text, unfortunately illegible here, is the Charge of the Goddess. Since it's one of my favorite prayers, I'll indulge myself & post the text below:

Listen to the words of the Great Mother, who of old was called Artemis, Innana, Demeter, Aphrodite, Cerridwen, Diana, Brigid and by many other names.

"Whenever you have a need of anything, once in the month, and better it be when the moon is full, you shall assemble in some secret place and adore the spirit of Me who am Queen of all Witches. You shall be free, and as a sign that you be truly free you shall be naked in your rites. Sing, feast, dance, make music and love, all in My presence, for Mine is the ecstasy of the spirit and the Mine also is joy on earth. For my law is love of unto all beings. Mine is the secret that opens upon the door of youth and Mine is the cup of wine of life that is the holy grail of immortality. I give thee knowledge of the spirit eternal and beyond death, I give peace and freedom and reunion with those that have gone before. Nor do I demand sacrifice, for behold, I am mother of all things, and My love is poured upon the earth."

Hear the words of the Star Goddess, the dust of whose feet are the hosts of heaven, whose body encircles the universe: "I who am the beauty of the green earth and the white moon among the stars and the mysteries of the waters, I call upon your soul- arise and come unto Me! For I am the soul of nature that gives life to the universe. From Me, all things proceed and unto Me they must return. Let my worship be in the heart that rejoices, for behold all acts of love and pleasure are my rituals."

Let there beauty and strength, power and compassion, honor and humility, mirth and reverence within you. And you who seek to know Me, know that thy seeking and yearning will avail thee not, unless you know the Mystery; for if that which you seek, you find not within thee, you wilt never find it without. For behold, I have been with you from the beginning and I am that which is attained at the end of desire.

Blessings!

pregnancy inspired artwork, a note about Grandma

"Motherline:" Untitled Variations on sketch for Motherline:

A dear friend, talented artist, and former professor just let me know she's expecting a baby girl this spring. Congratulations, Sabina! (Check out her page- she does really strong work about identity and culture) To celebrate, I'm posting some of the art I made while I was pregnant. I remember a conversation with Sabina a couple of years ago, when she told me that she thought maybe becoming a mom would be great for me and it would "pull me out of myself." She was, as usual, so right.

I took Molly to the hospital to see my Grandma, who fell and hurt her knee and aggrivated her two mended hips. I had the baby cloistered in a stroller under several layers to keep the germs at bay. I almost didn't take her but I had strong intuition that we needed to go. Grandma was overjoyed to see her "Holly." (She gets the name right a good 50% of the time, so we don't complain:) She's in the very early stages of Alzheimer's as best the doctors can guess. She's just dotty and it's still sort of cute to me, although I dread the real confusion that will come later. Right now she just repeats herself alot, and mixes up names. Today she was telling her roommate about Molly and me, and about how mom had died. She turned to me and asked "Did they ever figure out why your mother died?" and I had to remind her about the cancer. It was surreal, sitting down the hall from where Mom died and reminding Grandma about it. This visit didn't upset me like it usually has to be in the building. I guess I'm finally desensitizing a little bit. I hate most the smell of the disinfectant soap there- scent is so connected to memory.

I love talking to her so much. Every second I'm with her I'm so present and in the moment. Losing Mom made me so focused on savoring the time I have with Grandma, and so thankful she is with us and well enough to remember the baby.

showers & wings

This is a piece of art I created for my friend's baby's nursery. (Yes, that's a sleeping Molly.) We went to her shower Saturday. I obsessed about giving her this, worrying that she'd see it as a photo of Molly and a self-centered gift rather than as a collage using a photo of Molly. Shane told me it was fine but I'm still not sure. Anyway, it's cute. She is decorating with fairies and winged creatures.

The shower was great. I met a sweet woman who has two-year-old twins and conceived by artificial insemination. She and her girlfriend live next door to the mom-to-be. She offered me several nursing tops for cheap when she heard I'm planning on extended nursing. I don't have any nursing shirts, so that's a very cool thing. Extended nursing... so weird a term. Like there's an invisible line at age 1 when it suddenly becomes an extra, strange thing to do. 'Round here most folks think it's gross to nurse after a year. Well, alot of them think nursing's gross, period. Weirdest thing how that came to be the mindset amongst a poor bunch of people. They'd rather spend money on formula- it blows my mind.

The baby's back to normal... her itchy red bottom is almost healed, and she slept 7 or 8 hours last night without any nummins (nursing.) Of course, as Murphy's Law would dictate, I had insomnia. Probably because she's nursed non-stop during the week of evil diarrhea.