When Tony and I were Mum’s carers she was in and out of hospital a lot. Nurses would greet me by name in the supermarket. It could be stressful juggling Mum, work, newspaper, art and daily life.
For some reason I find polishing my nails soothing. I don’t generally do them because paint sticks to the polish; my hands are artist’s tools so the nails get a hard time.
This week has been difficult. (edit – this is yesterday’s post which I didn’t get a chance to post) For the first time in a very long time – possibly years – I’ve polished my nails. And, yes, the blue polish already has tiny flecks of orange on it.
There’s nothing like a little play time in my journals to restore my equilibrium! This layout is in my small Dylusions journal and used the Dina Wakley words collage tissue, and Dylusions paints and collage collections.
I love listening to spoken words poets such as Shane Koyczan, this is the link to his poem ‘More often than sometimes’. I enjoy their ability so speak without tripping over their words, something I’ve never quite mastered. I’ve never let it worry me much mind you; I’ve spoken at conferences and co-present on communication and teamwork as part of my job.
More importantly, I admire their capacity to talk openly about hard stuff in beautiful ways. One of the things I realised as part of the mental health work I’ve done post-weight loss surgery, is there are so many things I just can’t talk about. Things I won’t say. Words I have smothered with food.
In the last 2 1/2 years I’ve found ways to say some of it, either in writing (in its many forms) or whispered quietly, as though turning down the volume lessens the feelings of shame. Shame … one of the feelings often at the heart of food addiction like mine.
Words are tricky – my art journals allow me to pour out my feels in pictures and paint, leaving those tricky, slippery words aside for another day.
It’s June 1st and that means #BlogJune and a month of committing pen to paper … or finger to iPad. I used to blog most days, particularly when I was doing my art qualification. These days, I tend to use Twitter more, as it’s where my professional networks are.
Why do I still blog, and attempt #BlogJune? For me, blogging is a good way to slow down and think about things. Extroverts tend to “talk it through to think it through”. Introverts tend to think it through, then talk. For me, I’m more likely to write if I want to share, or art journal if it’s just for me.
There’s a lot going on for Tony and I at the moment, and blogging will be a good way for me to clarify what’s going on in my head. Although no doubt some of it will only be getting committed to my art journals, which are more private. Will I manage to blog every day? Who knows, but I’m happy to give it a go. Want to join me?
Brief because, unusually for me, I haven’t got a lot to say (sort of).
Sandra – my best friend of 53 years – spent Friday & Saturday nights with us. Bruno, her wee rescue dog, glued himself to Tony. She got out & about, taking incredible photos for her travel blog. The ones she took of the wreck at Patea beach are incredible, it’s the most exposed we ever remember seeing it.
This afternoon I went to a work friend’s baby shower, which was way more fun that I had imagined. Tony’s brother Roger came round for dinner and got here about 15 minutes before me – and 20 minutes after Tony had a decent fall. He was heading to the kitchen on his walker and got super dizzy, tried to grab the doorway and missed. The walker went forward and he went backward, fortunately landing on his bum rather than hitting his head on the wall. He’s ok but stiffening up and I suspect there’s going to be a great bruise.
He had a very rough day, again, with his tummy on Thursday and that evening we had a brief chat about the fact one day he will need rest home level care. Tonight he and I have talked about how he’s getting dizzy more and more often, and that I worry about his safety when I’m not here. He has a medic alarm but his memory is not always great and this afternoon he didn’t think to use it. We’re talking about the merits of Te Mahana, where he might know people, versus Hawera where I could pop in during my lunch break and after work – or be there in 5 minutes if they needed me.
The time isn’t yet, but it’s approaching – maybe quite fast. Like almost everything, we’re talking about it, planning ahead and having the difficult conversations.
Cath Sheard Art 