The Difference Between Liking Me and Loving Me

Pardon me while I ramble…

These are things I understand:

One, I am not likable.

Two, this hurts.

Three, most of the time I see why I am not likable.

Four, that does nothing to lessen the hurt.

Five, I understand the importance of “not going it alone”, and I want to open up and not be the emotional (and, often, physical) hermit I am…but, I refer you to number one.

I was challenged by the reading today in the devotional journal, “I’ll Walk With God” – by Pastor Phil Weaver, which some of us at New Springs are going through (day 79, for those of you who know what I’m talking about). About community…about not being a “Lone Ranger” when it comes to our Christian walk.

Now, I go to church (OK, so I missed this past Sunday – believe me, you are glad that I did not come and breathe on you and spread my germs – but, normally, you know, I’m there), and I’ve begun going to one of the home-cell groups… but, still, as I have since I was young…I sit there…in a crowd…totally alone. By choice? This can be argued. It’s a bit of a vicious cycle:

I’m not likable. I know this, why? Because, over the years, people have told me so, via actions, attitude, and direct words. So, I get this, got it…and, since I realise that I’m not likable, I don’t approach people or try to be friends, and I certainly don’t get close enough for you to see the real me because…hey, remember…I’M NOT LIKABLE! And, since you are sure to see that up close is a whole lot worse than an arm’s length away, I keep my distance. And, therefore, since I don’t make an effort to be anything more than a distant shell in front of you – you can tell there’s something wrong, but you just can’t place your finger on it…so, you either can’t be bothered to find out what is really there (because I don’t warrant that much attention) or your imagination fills in the gaps, and you begin to assume what my problems are…and, then, what do you naturally do? You do not like me and, therefore, avoid me. There’s the cycle.

Are you getting it now?

As for what’s really wrong with me… your imagination is probably far off the mark. I am enigmatic by design and, as for that, I really wouldn’t change that bit… a cloak of mystery is always interesting if nothing else. But, sometimes…just sometimes…

I’d like a friend. Close by (I mean, the internet is fab, but sometimes you need someone physically close). Other than Jamie. Who can handle me. Who isn’t afraid of me. Who certainly won’t judge me. Who, like Jamie, and like God, will love me and still be my friend and companion even though I’m not likable! Someone to really be my friend, walk with me, and encourage me. You know, despite my Likability Challengedness.

Perhaps I ask for too much. You know, because obviously God is God, and Jamie, well…God has obviously given him some sort of special grace to put up with me the way that he does…and, not just endure me but, somehow, actually enjoy me.  But, knowing this doesn’t help me with fulfilling this New Testament spiritual discipline of being “in community”…and, what that comes down to is true and honest friendship.

When I started this, I had no intention of using it to plug my music (the only talent I have…of which a handful of people actually care about and…yes, the fact that the rest of you could care less does, indeed, sometimes make me a tad bit resentful… oh, well, I’m not likable anyway…so, I’ll admit that)…however, this song I wrote kind of sums this dilemma all up very nicely. And, I would like to leave you with the one thing I have that is – if you have taste in music, that is – likable.

Ah, you gotta love brutal honesty. I didn’t say you had to like it.

Content With What and Where I Am

I would address my readers here, but my last three blog posts have had no feedback whatsover, so I think I may actually be blogging to myself. Well, I suppose that’s ok. The writing itself is cathartic. If I talk to myself, why not blog to myself, as well? Indeed, I think I will just have a little conversation with myself now.

Discouraged again with the lack of interest in my music, the general lack of people taking me seriously, I am re-evaluating everything in my life. All along in my life, I have wanted success in music, and at various times I have attempted to get myself out there and known. But, as I’ve mentioned so many times before, I really don’t have the proper connections that I need. And, everytime I try, if there are any successes at all, they are so small – and so few and far between – that, perhaps, this is something I need to surrender.

What good am I? What value do I have?

There are far more things I cannot do than what I can.

But, I realise, I have the opportunity to be a blessing to my family. I have an opportunity to encourage and be an uplift – as opposed to an annoying burden – to my husband and children.

I may not have much opportunity to touch people with my voice and music, but I should not take lightly or take for granted the opportunity that I do have.

God, help me.

(and, that wasn’t just a flip and pointless remark – that was an honest prayer)

OK, due to my mental and physical condition, I cannot handle the mental, physical and emotional pressure of an everyday day job so that I can contribute financially to this family. Thankfully, no one is pressuring me to attempt to try doing that again – if that were the case, I think it would be the final straw on my way to a true nervous breakdown. However, I do have the opportunity to be a housewife (NOT a bad thing, at all) and a stay-at-home mum.

Some might say, “Well, I thought that’s all you already were”. Well, I would take exception to the word “all”, since I think I have proven time and again that it isn’t “all” I am. But, I also take offense at the attitude that being a housewife and stay-at-home mum is an unimportant thing. But, that isn’t my argument here…and, if no one but me is reading this, it’s not an argument I would have with myself anyway: I’m not a feminist by any stretch of the imagination. My point is that, while I have these things in title, I haven’t been proactive in them. Indeed, I’ve been rather passive, just letting things move around me, while I wait for the big break – waiting for my music to be [seriously] discovered on a wide scale and/or waiting for my visual artwork to take off. I’ve realised today, I could be waiting until the proverbial cows come home (and, you know, I have a suspicion those bovine are so far gone they aren’t ever coming home). In the meantime, I’ve been given this gift: I am allowed to stay at home and speak into my children’s lives. I am allowed to support my husband to the best of my ability (and even better than my ability through the help of God’s Spirit). I’ve been given time to pray for others. They may never hear my music, but I can sure interceed for them that they will come to have a decent taste in music and discover me. Just kidding there! Well, I am kidding about the latter part of that statement; the first part is so: because I am at home and not at either a 9-5 OR travelling all over the place giving concerts, I have time to pray for people.

I wrote a message to someone yesterday, explaining how I am comfortable upon a stage, but not in a one on one conversation with someone/anyone (with the exception of a few special people), and that my ability to reach people with any message of love, hope, salvation, etc. is through my music, because I’m just not brilliant at “talking”. But, a song, that I can deliver. I wrote this message to them, offering my “services” in regards to an outreach ministry – because I felt this is the one way I can give. I am now second guessing myself as to whether I should have sent that message. The fact is… no one wants me in that regard.

But, the thing is, as I sit here with the tears running down my face – the tears which refuse to be pushed back, I don’t want to be depressed about this. I don’t want to be, but I am. But, I don’t WANT to be; I want to just be content where I am and get on with it, being active and making the most of where I am, blessing who I do have the opportunity to bless! The reason I’m depressed though is because I am a crap mum and my only real benefit as a wife is that I absolutely love sex. I’m horrible housekeeper. I’m disorganized and entirely rubbish at keeping a place neat and tidy. I can’t cook. I’m afraid of the oven. All I have to do is this, but I’m crap at it. I’m much more of a burden than a blessing in the ONLY area I have to be a blessing.

So, all I can do is ask God to help me. Without Him, I would simply despair – but, with Him, there is hope. I’m going to hold onto the verse of scripture I read yesterday in The Message Bible, Psalm 40:17, and pray it with all my heart, just as David prayed it to God, because I desperately need sorting out, the sooner the better:

And me? I’m a mess. I’m nothing and have nothing: make something of me.  You can do it; you’ve got what it takes – but God, don’t put it off.

AMEN!

Real Love

This is a bit of a follow-up on THIS post, which I wrote for Valentine’s Day. I’ve had no comment or feedback on it… and, I have to wonder if that’s because it hit a nerve or two.

And, some may ask me, “Who do you think you are telling us what is and is not love? You aren’t a relationship expert or anything.” Well, I certainly can say this to that: I have definitely been in enough relationships to know what is and isn’t love. I feel completely qualified to share here. I have not been loved, and I have been loved (and am being loved), and subsequently I can testify to what it is and what it is not and the vast difference between the two.

But, you know what? Let’s not get into a fuss here, alrighty? I’d simply like to share with you a picture and a song, and then I will let you go on about your day/night/whenever.

Some four years ago, Jamie took this beautiful intimate photo of us. Through the years this picture has appeared in various forms and in various places. Jamie and I always called it “Together”. For me, it has always conveyed our interdependent relationship so well – an expression of something that is truly precious (in the very literal sense of that word).

After writing my latest song last week, I thought of this image as a perfect one to visually represent the lyrics. And so, I dug it out once more.

In the past, this image has been cropped to flatter my less than perfect figure. This time, however, I decided to leave my “flaws” in it, for a reason: the song is about accepting someone as they are, because you love them – REALLY love them. And, this is something Jamie has always done. It’s my voice singing the song, but I really felt as I wrote the lyrics that I was interpreting my husband’s love and acceptance of me. I wrote the words, yes…but, these are words I have received from his heart – these are the words I daily experience in our relationship. Indeed, I am blessed.

But, this song, it isn’t only about the relationship I have with my amazing husband who really loves me. This song is, basically, about what walking in love really is – with anyone we claim to love.

Ephesians 5:1-2 (The Message) says:

Watch what God does, and then you do it, like children who learn proper behavior from their parents. Mostly what God does is love you. Keep company with him and learn a life of love. Observe how Christ loved us. His love was not cautious but extravagant. He didn’t love in order to get something from us but to give everything of himself to us. Love like that.

1 Corinthians 13:3-8 (The Message):

So, no matter what I say, what I believe, and what I do, I’m bankrupt without love.

   Love never gives up.
   Love cares more for others than for self.
   Love doesn’t want what it doesn’t have.
   Love doesn’t strut,
   Doesn’t have a swelled head,
   Doesn’t force itself on others,
   Isn’t always “me first,”
   Doesn’t fly off the handle,
   Doesn’t keep score of the sins of others,
   Doesn’t revel when others grovel,
   Takes pleasure in the flowering of truth,
   Puts up with anything,
   Trusts God always,
   Always looks for the best,
   Never looks back,
   But keeps going to the end.

 Love never dies.

Everyone should know what love is – and, what it is not! In our relationships with people, we shouldn’t call what isn’t love love. And, when we say that we love someone, we should be ready to back that up with what love really is and does.

Let Me Hold You

Come here, let me hold you
I won’t tell you not to cry
All I ask is let me hold you
And catch the tears when they fall

I don’t have much I can give you
Myself never seems to be enough
But all I am, you may have it
Take it all for your own

Just come here, let me hold you
I won’t judge you for your past
What is gone, don’t let it hold you
Let it go, and be free, at last…

And, I promise to hold you forever!

So come on, let me hold you
Leave your sorrow, and come here
Together we’re much stronger
And have nothing left to fear

All we have is here in these arms
And in our hearts that know such love
Is forever and unfailing
And worth never letting go!

Lyrics and Music by Autumn Dawn Leader.
Copyright ©2010 Autumn Dawn Leader. All rights reserved.

In The Beginning…

From the time I understood that I could do it, and do it well, it is all I wanted to do.

Coming from a family with a mother and grandmother both being extremely skilled and gifted musicians and vocalists, I was never allowed to settle for less from my voice than the best; I understood from a young age what was good and what wasn’t.

When one goes about self-promoting, there is always a danger in sounding like you take yourself too seriously or, because you haven’t yet reached world-wide fame, many may think that you think you are better than you really are.

Well… it’s never been a question about whether or not I am good. Listen for yourself. The proof is in the pudding… no, the pudding is sticky. The proof is in the listening, and I want you to listen.

I have said it before, and it bears repeating now: one can have oodles of talent but remain unknown and never really “make it”. It all depends on the people you know; it’s all dependent on those “connections”. And, well…that’s where my problem has always been.

And, thus, I’m self-promoting. This week in earnest I have been on a campaign to get my music heard. I’ve recorded songs, I’ve made videos, I created a fan page on facebook…all in an attempt to be heard, to be discovered.

Who do I want discovering by? Well, sure, a producer and a record label would be nice. Yes, it would be wonderful if someone with the money to back me would discover me (I’ve been looking for that for well over 20 years). But, that’s not my main motivation here. I’m not really looking for Simon Cowell, etc. - I have a feeling he/they would try to change me. I’m not hip or cool or modern enough. And, judging by the way the great majority of pop music is going (I use the term “music” there ever so lightly), I don’t want to be what is considered hip, cool, or modern. (But, now who’s the critic? I’ll admit that, as well. It’s me! I’m a music snob. And, well, while it can be argued about how much of art (in its myriad forms and expressions) is subjective and open to interpretation, for me music is much more clear cut. There is good and there is not good. And far too much of what is popular today is neither good on a musical level or a lyrical one, but as long as the tasteless are allowed to have money to buy records this stuff will be popular and there will be a market for it.  However, now I’ve gone on a tirade, and my lament of the state of “today’s music” is NOT what this is all about. What I am NOT is not what this is about either.) I’m not pop, but I am relevant, and those people who appreciate the soulful sound of a strong, melodic, contralto voice and lyrics that come from the heart will appreciate what I have to offer. 

I want to be discovered by YOU.

No one can begin to know me without knowing my music; we are synonymous. To me singing is like breathing – there is no seperation for me; I am happiest when I am touching other people with my voice. My sister has termed the kind of songs I write as “heartsongs”, and that most closely describes my “genre” than anything else. Again, the only clarification of this is in the listening. Indeed, the only clarification of me is in the listening.

So, taking the risk that there will be those who will consider me conceited (there’s always a critic or ten), here I am. Do I have something to prove? Well, sure I do. Not to myself. But, there is always someone you have to impress that you can do what you say you can do. I’m just putting my voice where my mouth is…on a world wide scale, that is.

It’s worth it in order to reach people where they are.

Allow me to touch your heart.

Start your journey here:

I’d Rather Have…

Yesterday was Valentine’s Day. For some people this day is a cause for depression or, for the cynical, a reason to make fun of romance. For many others this day represents a time to do some sort of romantic gesture for their partners – and for some of those people (the partners, I mean) it’s the one time of year that a romantic gesture happens, so they really look forward to it. Wives and girlfriends expect cards and roses and chocolates and jewellery, and most get upset if they don’t receive something. And, the thing is, the most of them deserve it, because they only get a bit of romance and tenderness the one time a year, so they have to make the most of it.

Spouses who regard their partners as little more than the furniture the rest of the year act like they can make up for their neglect and constant taking their significant others as insignificant with one day of wine and roses.  And, the really sad thing is that quite a number of the neglected ones of these pairs just accept this as the status quo, just think of it as the norm, and so go along with it and take what they can get on the one day of the year when some romantic kindnesses are showered on them. Their marriages are a desert wasteland the rest of the year, but there’s this one day where they can expect a bit of sweetness and admiration and perhaps a bit of selflessness from their partners. They just accept this and act like the diamond ring and the dozen overpriced roses make up for the [continued] lack of what Valentine’s Day is really about:

Love.

They take their chocolates and place a plaster (band-aid) on the gaping wound for another year.

Hmm…

 

Do you know what Jamie got me for Valentine’s day this year?

Nothing.

Nothing and…

 

Everything!

You see, finances are really, really tight right now. Money goes to necessities to live only:  food and shelter. Jamie told me he would love to lavish gifts upon me… and he was sad that the funds just weren’t there. But, you see, as much as I love to receive gifts, I have something far more precious than any shiny trinket or full-bloom rose or tasty soft centres.

The trinkets will tarnish. The roses will fade. The chocolates would just make me fatter than I already am.

When Jamie told me, tearfully, that he wished he had the money to get me a Valentine’s gift, I told him this:

“I know that there are loads of husbands out there that have given their wives presents – nice things – for Valentine’s Day, but none of them are half the man that you are.

“I would rather have a husband who comes home to me, a husband who adores me, a husband who doesn’t cheat on me and who doesn’t neglect my heart, a husband who loves me – the husband that you are rather than have any of those other husbands and their band-aid gifts!”

I understand that some spouses will take what they can get, they will settle and accept…they must for their sanity. I understand that. I also know that I am extremely blessed. I know that what I have is rare and, therefore, considered unusual by many people.

The one thing that was impressed upon me most strongly this Valentine’s Day was how awesome it is to know – to be sure - you are with the one you belong with. How wonderful it is to have absolutely no question about that.

I recently read The Time Traveler’s Wife by Audrey Niffenegger. It’s a marvellous read. And, for me, it was one of those personal books that I could see a bit of myself and my own story in. The strongest example of this is in a love that overcomes everything – an eternal love, and two people who are sure that they are for each other, truly meant to be together.

I said near the beginning of this that Valentine’s Day is about Love. Over the years it has come to be associated with romance but, as much of a romantic and believer in romance as I am, there is so much more to love – and really loving someone – than romance. It’s a part of the picture, something that adds to a beautiful composition, but it is not the whole; it is one of the many expressions that comes from a heart that loves.

What is love?

 Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth.  Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends.

(1 corinthians 13:4-8 ESV)

Wow, this means that real love is powerful. And, it isn’t fickle. It isn’t here one moment and gone the next. It endures. It believes, it never stops believing. It never gives up. It isn’t something that stops. Not if it’s real.

People have relationships that end, and we hear them say, “we just don’t love each other anymore”. I would say that the relationship ended because they never really loved one another in the first place!

But, I’m not hear to preach (even though I have quoted Scripture at you). I just want to share my joy at being so blessed; consider this me counting my blessings.

Ask me if I had a good Valentine’s Day 2010, and I will tell you, “Oh…yes…. I was loved.”

I am loved, and I would choose this love over the alternative any day! And, it is this love, this marvellous love story – this divine, incorruptible force, that inspired the artwork that finishes off this post:

A Short Story and a… T Shirt!

So, a couple of months ago, inspired by one of my famous bouts with low self-esteem and body image issues (and the ever-continuing battle that rages against the media and society’s very limited idea of beauty), I actually wrote a 500 word short story. Yes… I actually stepped, for a moment, away from the personal essay format and decided to try my hand at, not only fiction BUT (get this!), my first ever piece of Science Fiction! It’s had a decent reception over on The Bubble, and so I decided to give it some more exposure.

And so, for your reading pleasure, I give you:

MAYBE SHE’S BORN WITH IT… MAYBE IT’S PHOTOSHOP (go on, clicky-clickety-clickclickclick the link… I’ll wait while you read.)

And, if you like the story, you might be interested in getting the t-shirt.

t-shirt design by Autumn Dawn Leader (all rights reserved)

After I wrote the story, I decided the t-shirt was in order. And so, inspired by the story (and by every single fashion, nudie, and men’s magazine out there!), I created the design. I’d love to see an army of people wearing this – Viva la revolution!!

I Keep Talking To Myself, But Myself Refuses To Listen!

So, it’s been a while since I “blogged”, but I created a piece of art today that has a lot to say, and seeing that I had quite a lot to say about it over on RedBubble, I figured I might as well say it over here, as well. One, it gives my work more exposure (always a good thing)… other than that, well, it just seemed like a good thing to blog about. So, here goes…

"I Keep Talking To Myself, But Myself Refuses To Listen"

This piece speaks to a lot of issues: inner-turmoil, self-hatred, denial, having a stubborn nature that consistently refuses to see reason, being exasperated with one’s self and one’s own stupidity. It’s about the very real argument that goes on, daily, inside myself…

when I KNOW, I can see, that I am being irrational and thinking things that just aren’t right… but, I can’t help it. And, I refuse to listen… even to myself! I hold onto the lies instead of grasping the truth that I – and others – try to make me see.

This piece isn’t meant to be “pretty”. I purposely left in my figure “flaws”. My self-image is one of the issues that brings me much turmoil. So, I didn’t sugar coat or try to hide or fix those things like I do in so many of my other artworks – my, sadly, more popular pieces of artwork…

(please forgive my overuse of the ellipsis (…), but this is one on running-conglomeration-stream of a thought)

Now, I’m not sad that any of my art is popular. It’s just that it does sometimes gall me that the pieces where I have done all the “fixing” so that my body is closer to what society accepts as “beautiful” are the pieces that get a LOT more attention and praise. I would like to think that the members of RedBubble were above buying into the line of bull the media throws at us. Alas… even though we have those few out there who champion the cause of “real women” (and men!), it isn’t enough to turn the tide…

So, no, this isn’t what many will call pretty. All some will see is a middle aged woman, with a badly proportioned body, who is trying to be “arty”. They will choose to see my belly that sticks out too far, and completely miss (what I think is) the lovely side cleavage view of some pretty decent boobs (despite the overly large gut). No, they aren’t big – if they were, I’d be more in proportion and could tout myself as a “full figured” or “big and beautiful” lady…but, as it is, I have no category to fit my unconventional shape – but (the boobs, that is) are nice (even I can see that!)…and, even though this isn’t “pretty”, I had to admit (as much as I live in constant turmoil over my shape), I liked the way the light hit my cleavage (on the me on the left of the image)! I may be disgusted with the swell of stomach beneath them, but I really like the look of the swell of my breasts inside (and peeking out from) my knitted top!

Hear that, Me? I like them!!!

Of course… I won’t listen to myself. I will only see the bad, and push away the good…

…like I do with everything! It’s not just about my shape – it’s about everything there is about me…and everything there is about everything!

And, it’s constant… from the moment I get up in the morning until I finally, mercifully, fall asleep at night. In fact, sleep (and reading sometimes…if I can get really engrossed) is the only way to escape for a while. Sex is a good escape, as well… but sometimes, even that, because of its very nature, will get me worrying about things that start off an inner-turmoil session… but, for the most part, sex is good (very good) because it is so engaging and overwhelming to the senses that it makes for medication from this chronic condition. In fact, the more sex the better, because lack of sex would be much more worrisome than getting it often (and, when I say often, I mean at least once a day, every day… oh, but I digress…and, anywho, this is probably TMI for a lot of people, but those of  you who have read my blog posts in the past know that I tend to get rather passionate about the subject of, well, getting passionate, and you all should be used to it).

I envy those of you who do not have this constant turmoil raging within you – those of you who won’t get this image (or post) at all. Oh, I envy you!

But, there are many who will get this – many of you will understand it perfectly.

If nothing else, this image does prove how good I have become with Photoshop… when you look at how I look here in this picture and then compare those where I did “fix” my body.

But, I mostly did this piece for me anyway; it’s one of those “therapy in the form of art” things. I had the idea come to me last night… I saw this image in my mind: the two of me standing there, the one of me saying, “OOOOHHHHH, LISTEN HERE, YOU…U’m, I mean, ME! LISTEN HERE, ME! YOU STRAIGHTEN UP AND FLY RIGHT, MISSUS!”, and, the other me doing the “talk to the hand because the face ain’t listening” thing.

As I was putting it together in Photoshop and adding texture, I decided to add the crack in the wall…an added bit of symbolism there: the split, the schism in me.

Overall… I’m really pleased and proud of this piece, and thus it sees the light of day (and, thus, I’m going on about it and blogging about it and everything). And, hoping against hope, perhaps it will remind me to listen to the truth more often… (heh, even once in a great while would be helpful!) – that I would accentuate the positive… that, maybe, one of these days, instead of doing the “talk to the hand” bit, I might just stop and actually get a grip on myself!

The Bond

It’s October, and that means it’s “Pink Ribbon Month“. Over on Redbubble there have been many a Bubbler – my very own Jamie included – who have been doing works of art specifically to raise awareness and funds for breast cancer research. Boobies are everywhere! I’m not complaining. It’s very good. Boobs are good. I like boobs! And I, not wanting to be left out of doing my own signature bit for the cause, have done something a bit different so as to make a point on two fronts: one, for breast cancer awareness and, two, for breastfeeding.

You may or may not know that breastfeeding, while infinitely beneficial to the child, cuts the risks of getting breast cancer (along with other wonderful benefits for the mother – not the least of which is calorie burning and not having to get up in the middle of the night to make bottles). I don’t have the statistics here – be sure to look them up if you’re interested, but I know that breasfeeding mothers are at less risk of the dreaded disease than mothers who do not breastfeed their babies.

I am extremely pro-breastfeeding, for many reasons. But, I like to point out the “selfish” ones, because all too many women are under the false impression that it is an inconvenience for them to breastfeed. I consider the outrageous prices of formula and sterilizing bottles to be much more of an inconvenience, thank you very much. And, even if it was “inconvenient” – which it is not! – the benefits for both mother and baby far outweigh any slight “inconveniences”!!! And, yes, now I’ve stepped onto my soap box (I’m not going to appologise for it)…I’m quite passionate about this. But, what could be more important than insuring better health for not only your child, but also giving yourself the added benefit of protecting your health as well! It’s a win, win, win, win, win, win…. you get the idea… situation!

 So, with all that in mind, my artistic contribution for these very worthy causes is this image:

image NOT public domain © Copyright 2009 Songmistress, All Rights Reserved

(click here to see detail and information about purchasing)

This magical composite scene features me and my son, Warrick; all my own photos and textures were used.

I have breastfed all my babies, and I can attest to the wonderful bonding that occurs between mother and child.

I’ve also added a bit of symbolism here, pointing to Mother Earth, oneness with nature, and nourishment – both physical and spiritual – on a world-wide, big picture scale.

If purchased, all proceeds for this piece will go to cancer research uk.

So…that’s my bit. And, I felt it important enough to blog about it. So, thank YOU for reading. Now, I hope you will go do your bit, too. Even if your bit is only to remember to check your own mammeries or remind a friend to do so!

SAVE THE BOOBIES!

The World Within

My mother is an amazing artist and an amazing person. She has more talent in her little finger than I have ever had throughout my entire being. Vocally – though we are both contraltos – she has always had the better range and control. She paints, writes, sculpts, plays the piano and the organ, and – as I say – sings.

She is also legally blind.

She was not always blind. In fact, once upon a time, she had better than perfect vision. This was attested to and documented by an opthomologist who gave her an exam one time. This is how the story goes…

My mother went to the eye doctor for an exam during which, as these exams go, the doctor instructed my mother to look at a poster on the wall opposite to where she was sitting in the examination chair, and he asked her if she could see “the dot” in the middle of the page. She responded, questioningly, to him, “You mean the man in the little boat?”

The doctor was nonplussed. He said, “Uhhhhh…”, and then he went over to the poster and peered at it closely with a magnifying glass. Sure enough, even though he – and none other of his patients – had ever seen it, there was a man in a little boat in the middle of the poster, and at the very bottom of the page , in tiny letters, was the title Man In Boat. My mother was the only one to have ever seen it as anything more than just a dot.

My mother has given me many things, but one of the most precious is the desire to look deeper – not just in the physical, but also metaphorically speaking. I will always be grateful.

As I say, her physical vision is now seriously diminished due to a tragic accident, but her spirit is not so diminished. She keeps creating wonderful works of art and music – even in the darkness, she finds the light.

Today I did this piece for her. 

Clicking on the link here so you are able to see the image in greater detail is a must so that you can look deep and discover more than a mere glance on this blog page will give you.

 

 

Thank you, Mommy, for teaching me to see – to look – for more than just a dot!

She’s Like The Wind

The Vyxen writes:

“I think that you should post in your blog when you post in your RB. ‘Cause, y’know, some of your pieces include a wordy narrative to go along with them. Blogdom wants to see these things, too! Yup.”

While I may not be able blog every time I post something new on RedBubble, I like Kim’s suggestion and think I will try to get in the habit of, now and then, when I do post a work which either has an accompaning “wordy narrative” or is simply one of the more special and poignant of my pieces (like this one I’m about to share), shouting out about it here in “Blogdom”, too!

Today I did a piece in honour of Patrick Swayze who just passed away from pancreatic cancer. What follows is what I put up on RB: my image and actually short, not overly wordy narrative accompanied by the lyrics to PS’s song She’s Like The Wind.

(click here to buy or just to see the image in better detail)

I’m sure that in the next few days and weeks many people will be putting up their tribute and “in rememberance” works in honour of the late Patrick Swayze. And, perhaps, my idea isn’t all that unique, but it is heartfelt, and it is unique in that it is my special tree and me as the wind.

Rest in Peace, PS.

She’s Like The Wind – by Patrick Swayze

She’s like the wind through my tree
She rides the night next to me
She leads me through moonlight
Only to burn me with the sun
She’s taken my heart
But she doesn’t know what she’s done

Feel her breath on my face
Her body close to me
Can’t look in her eyes
She’s out of my league
Just a fool to believe
I have anything she needs
She’s like the wind

I look in the mirror and all I see
Is a young old man with only a dream
Am I just fooling myself
That she’ll stop the pain
Living without her
I’d go insane

Feel her breath on my face
Her body close to me
Can’t look in her eyes
She’s out of my league
Just a fool to believe
I have anything she needs
She’s like the wind

Feel your breath on my face
Your body close to me
Can’t look in your eyes
You’re out of my league
Just a fool to believe
(Just a fool to believe)
She’s like the wind
(Just a fool to believe)
Just a fool to believe
(She’s like the wind)
Just a fool to believe
(Just a fool to believe)
She’s like the wind
(Just a fool to believe)
Just a fool to believe
She’s like the wind

(Just a fool…)
(She’s like the wind)
(She’s like the wind)
(Just a fool…)
(She’s like the wind)
(Just a fool…)