The Scream

 

            

I was listening to NPR recently and heard  the Norwegian Embassy had designed their Christmas
tree with 700 of  Edvard Munch's The Scream ornaments to celebrate his 150 birthday.
The  interviewer asked what would happen to them after the holidays and they said they would be given to friends.

Well, count me as a friend, because I wanted one!!  So I called the Norwegian Embassy and asked how to get one.  I turned on the art teacher charm in hopes of getting an original one from the tree.  I told the woman about how I had used the painting many times for art lessons.  We chatted some more and then she gave me the name of the site-- where I could buy one.  She said they were reflective and the company was called "seeme" and I assumed (.com).

Well,  who would have guessed...  "see me" (.com). is a porno site.

So, I have to call the Norwegian Embassy back and told them I had clicked on a porno site.
"Oh don't do that!!"  -Sorry, too late.

It turns out to be seeme.no  home of the ornaments.  Now, if only I could read Norwegian, 
I could figure out the price and how to order one.

# http://www.seeme.no/

Christmas Hustle

         It's Official- It's Hustle Time

•  There is 4-5" of snow here.  Under it all is ice....
•  Both my laptop and my T.V. are not working.
• I listened to a Christmas Songs all the time channel- And got OD on Christmas tunes.
• I had a call for yet another Christmas stocking to be made before her daughter arrives.
• Didn't you think of this a week or so ago??
• Even my pets are bored.  The snow is too much to get out and play it.

         GREAT EARLY Christmas dinner with my friend SAM--yesterday.
   
        & Yippee!  My guy is back from CA!      

Re-Thinking the Holidays

              
Fearing that no one will read my posts when my Blah-spirit-of CHISTMAS
kicks in... I do want to say what I LOVE about Christmas time.

The fact that my family and friends are RELAXED and are enjoying the spirit of this holiday time. 

I have a lot of teacher friends.  Most of them are very experienced teachers who have been doing it a long time.  They are now doing what they were trained to do- but they've had to add an enormous amount of paperwork and data collection to now PROVE that they were good teachers from the beginning. 
  
To this I say-- Love you all!  I appreciate you.  You are an angel to these children, a parent, a nurse, a best friend, a confidant, a big sister, a grandma, and someone they can count on.  They miss you when you are out sick- and you never complain that their little hands and hacking is what makes you sick.

I talked to about five art teachers yesterday at the art show I was in.  Each came up to my display and said they had heard I was no longer teaching and asked how I was doing.  I didn't go into the details, but told them I was sick,
but making art and poor. 

Thank you, Amy, Tess, Lindsay, Michelle and Alice for making me feel like I am still one of the gang. 



# Art Quilts
# Cat Quilts
# Art Dolls
# Nature Art







www.cathyjeffers.com


My daughter will be home from college soon too.  This adds to my pleasure.
I have a goal of a better future with my 20-something daughters.

The Christmas Shuffle

Bare in mind I have nothing against Christmas.  MOST people enjoy everything it has to offer.  The REASON, the lights, family and friends, cooking, baking, gift giving....etc.  So why do I feel like Christmas is for everyone else?

The ROOT of Christmas happiness starts at a young age.  For me, it was the silver tree with the spinning lights.  The Christmas Santa on our roof that fell over regularly and every day my dad crawled on the roof to make Santa stand up again.  It meant delicious brownies with an orange frosting handmade from my mom's friend, and toys.

I still have my Pebbles doll--as I was a Flintstone Fanatic, and in heaven for several years.  My life evolved around their "play village," a yellow record of the Yabba-Dabba-Do song and eating.  I know it would be considered a collectable, but the poor doll has nearly no hair left since her hair was rubbed bald by me.

The flip side, speaking of records, were the ARGUMENTS.  My brother fought with  my dad, my dad often had to leave to go into work, my mom wanted more than my
dad had given and my brothers teased and tickled me into begging for mercy.

The whole Christmas day of happiness lasted nearly an hour for the gift exchange,
and then life returned to normal for the chubby kid ( Me).

It normally meant a family in turmoil.  I hated Christmas for years.  Not until my children were born-- did Christmas become remotely fun again.  My now X-
husband wouldn't even get out of bed Christmas morning.  (He hated Christmas because his dad would get on a sugar buzz and be hateful.)  My girls were set
to open their gifts and their dad-- wanted to put it off until say- 2:00 p.m.

I got the show going with hot coffee, cocoa, cinnamon rolls and a bribe.  Once my girls open their gifts, they were content playing the rest of the day.  We had a tree then, but now I haven't put one up in 15 years.

Christmas for me now is usually spent alone, watching t.v. and waiting for the phone to ring.  Maybe an old friend will call.  Last year, my meds were seriously out of control, and I was crying my eyes out-- so this will be a much improved season.

Cooking a turkey is so much easier.  A True Thanksgiving Blessing.   I have been giving gifts and food to my friends- those that work and yet can 't get a head.  Yes, me, sharing what I pick up, for little money.

This "depression head" is getting better mentally, and more able to see the holidays for what they are.  Tomorrow I will cook ahead, and enjoy what I can.  Christmas is a month away- so I will put thoughts of it out of my head-- think of the shuffle when it comes.

National Writing Month

 

Poor Me

 

As if working my buns off to have some art quilts and other textile items ready for  holiday art shows isn't enough, I also added the National Writing Month challenge to my agenda.  Now, I had heard of this for several years and knew a few people who were into doing it.  But at long last, I was going to it myself.

 

The idea is to complete a rough draft of a novel (50,000) words in a month.  You aren't suppose to edit it, and they have more experienced writers to encourage you if you get stuck.  Some libraries have writing groups that meet up and every part of the country is suppose to have a mentor or two if your writing goes way of the Titanic.

 

My novel, I admit was in my head for years.  I had started it several times and go to about page four and then promptly gave up.  I have been writing since I was a teen and have had a few things published, but novel writing- well, it is hard to do. 

 

Let's say you want to describe an orange.  Well, I would say:  "I want and orange." she said.  Well, I've pretty much given up on reading novels, because, it is so hard for me to get through all the words commonly used in many descriptive novels. 

 

Here, in an annoying novel,  "An orange is a rough but tender, sweet sphere of robust color.  A combination of both red and yellow, laying on a plate with a half-eaten slice of cheese, also the same color.  Now, I wonder would the man she adored enjoy the orange as much as she did as an evening snack, or would he want something from her kitchen she didn't have to offer him." Dah-Dah da-da.... you get the idea.

 

Anyhow, it gets worse, I want my novel to be about family--
think (dysfunctional-relations).  The novel is called Wellington House.

 

I am writing a story where the older sister has all the burden of the sick parents, as the younger ones get to play and do whatever they want. This never really happened to me- so I am using my imagination, but exchange one  main character for another and you have my life story!!  If  you make it to the end you can submit and compete with other writers.

 

One of the characters has a troubled love life.  I've never read #The Shades of Grey book, so I got it at the library for some "research" for my novel.  The only copy they had available was in large print, so yes.... I have the phone book size version.

I can imagine it now:    He gently caressed her, inserting his **nis  into her
(turn the page....)--- **v-Gina.   I'll let you know how my research goes and if you have a favorite part let me know.  I want my novel to be about the good stuff!

#    www.nanowrimo.org/

 

 

 

 

 



 

 



Two Old Ladies finding Love--- Ha!!

One of my best friends from college came over for lunch last Friday.  She is my age, and we both were art teachers.  She struggled as a single mom and devoted herself to her two kids and her classroom.  She drove about 45 minutes on back roads to her job for 35 years.  She is a spit-fire.

We connected all those years ago over a teacher we didn't like and we made fun of her.  We both role-played her voice for years, as we caught her knowing nothing of the fiber material she was talking about.  It was "raffia" and she had no idea where it came from. 

We have shared lots of fun-times over the years but our schedules often stood in the way.  Now we both have lots of time and we can pick how we spend it.  She signed up for a jewelry making class and I have been sewing so much,  I had to take today off  because my eyes can't hardly focus to thread a needle.

Two months after retirement and she has a new man in her life.  So we sat last Friday chatting over lunch about L-O-V-E ....post 55+.   He literally just walked into her life, but, we talked about how I met my guy on-line, the freaks out there and ecks---- all those married men--- thinking they won't be found out.  I even gave her a few pointers on "updated" dating.  Va-va-va-voom!

We both laughed how we really didn't want a man in our lives.... but then again?  She is a "collector" (--think hoarder).... so she said when he came to dinner, she had to move things off the table to eat some fast food.   I had just cleared a section of the table we were eating on myself.  I told her I apologized for the paint splattered table-- but I figured she would understand.

Ohio Artists

Hurray for Ohio Artists...

I live near Dayton, Ohio and I am amazed at the talent in our area.  I don't know what the rest of the mid-west is like, but there is a lot of talent here.  It is frustrating that so many think we just have corn fields around here.  Plus, many exhibition opportunities are just posted in NYC, D.C, Boston and out west. 

Yesterday I attended a show for Ohio Craftsmen and another by a talented surface designer Sue Cavanaugh.  She has mastered Shibori and now is working in the 3-dimensional form.  She had several excellent works and a major installation in one gallery at the Springfield museum.

I was big into weaving in the 1980's and this show reminded me of the textile artists of that period with stunning works floor to ceiling.  Fibers also puddled all over the floor.  Yesterday's show was
labor intensive as she left every stitch showing and even used reclaimed shirts for cloth.  Pretty darn cool!

www.suecavanaughart.com  

Fear of a Drug Crash

 

I am at the mercy of my doctors.  Last Christmas when I had a drug crashed, it was the week between Christmas and New Years.  I crashed from NOT taking a drug I was on, because they were so expensive.   My "C" drug was the most expensive of all the other drugs I take.

When I crashed, I went to the pharmacist crying as I spoke.  Could I go back on my old drugs?

It worked out... since I popped about three pills that day before leaving the store.

 ( Not suppose to do that!!)

 

So when I was about to run out this week.... of the magical "C" drug the doctors insist I remain taking.... there was, in a panic.  I had six pills left, the pharmacy wanted $126 a month.  The mail-away needed a doctor's request note since they didn't have it, and they said it could take two weeks.

I was out of samples. 

The doctor I see is on overload, not taking new patients, and when I called to ask what I should do about the drug,  I couldn't get someone to answer the phone.  I knew they were there, but I kept getting the "away from my desk" answering machine.  I actually considered taking a trip to the ER just to get some help, but I was afraid I would be admitted.

 

On about the sixth call, I got the office staff, and explained the situation.  She said she had a fax page about my drug.  WOW!!  I was a fax page.  She said she would call the mail-in company, but it would take two weeks.  The local pharmacist had already told me to dial down my pills, taking them every other day or I would crash.  So I told her my plan.  She said she actually had some samples.

(The doctor told me he couldn't give me any more last time.)  "REALLY?" I told her.  "I can get some samples?  I was about to freak-out."  She told me I could pick them up that afternoon.

 

Thankfully NO Crash!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



More on Writing

To  be a really good writer, I think it all starts with observation.  I've been a pretty good observer all of my life and I think it excels in me because of my artistic abilities.  I often wonder how observation-- Mar paying attention has become a lost art.

The same wonderful aspects of the social interactions via ipad, iphone and our handheld access to everyone these days, has made us a society of  non-communicators in the moment.  When I use to drive my daughter back and forth to college, she would text her friends and barely speak to me.  I finally announced can't you shut that off?  She did, but then it was followed by silence. 

I'd be a prime candidate for being distracted by everyday things. The teacher in me reads facial expressions and can determine who is paying attention, The grumpy face at the library tells who is there for enjoyment and who is there for some "project."  Customer service is "flat" these days.  Sure it's a good manner thing,
but the way it is spoken gives away the "pleasure it has been to serve you."  We accept press one, for English even though we may be on hold for several long minutes. Major sigh! 

When it comes to "Did you see that!"  Unless it is a major event, it is often overlooked.

Many of the people we admire (artists, writers, architects) all say they enjoyed going for walks, discovering nature and asking why.

Try to place yourself back in kindergarten.  Remember, the world is a garden.... waiting to be seen.

My Happy List

        Recently.... my passions have been divided.

 I've always loved art, but a close second was writing.  I wrote poetry and a three act play when I was 12.  Lots of changes since then, but I've always had the "bug" of  wanting to write desire.  I can even claim knowing three authors, Arnold Adoff, Nita Leland, and Katrina Kittle.  Now that's a mixed bag if ever there were one.

I attended a recent workshop with Katrina and the seed was well nurtured once again.
This led to me attending another workshop with another author.  She was a published author like the rest, but mostly talked about living the life of a writer.  (Interesting to know they are able to check out of doing laundry to go to a coffee shop at will and call it work.)  Anyhow, she suggested we make three lists for inspirations.

List one:   Your Happy List

List two:   Your Sad List

List three:  Things that make you angry.


Well, it kinda embarrassing... I surprised myself with my lists... although not in any order...

Here is part of my happy list:

1. Walking on the boardwalk on the beach.  (I love Naples and Miami Beach.)
2.  Visiting Falling Water  (That's right- I'm a big Frank Lloyd Wright fan.)
3.  Sewing
4.  Driving around (but not geting lost)
5.  Love making
6.  Family
7.  Food
8.  Sleeping
9.  My pets
10. Ice cream (As if it was it's own gold mine!)


Here's another thought I love:   (Young Child: to Father)


                  "I wanted to be hold-ed you know."

Good Deeds for Creative People

    

       I have an OCTOBER Challenge you

      might be interested in.

    

        Simplify.   Forget the candy corn. 

    I'm going to do at least three good deeds to treat others.

       It won't cost much money..... just my time.      

 

 

      Want to join me?  

     

It Only Takes A LONG TIME

            Funny how the artist and the depressed person can come together within 24 hours.

• Tuesday I was back crying.  I was overwhelmed by a big doctor's bill and I pictured that I would be paying it into 2015.  That's not the worst part as I know  there are probably other doctor bills coming my way.  Disability-retirement fact.
• Where was the money going to come from when I was so tight on money already?

          I face this fact daily- as I use to be able to earn enough to support myself.
        Then  news from a former co-worker. So sad as so many teachers work so hard. LOW test
         scores statewide and the TV news plays it up. NEW Art teacher has many of the
        same problems I did.  Not to wish they eat her up.  Poor woman.... I so understand.

 
         EXCITEMENT!!  (Yeah, I know...)  More like a mini-drum roll. It wasn't just me! 
        I was in a toxic, dysfunctional work system with a failing structure.
        I was just the one they chose to slater.

        I have not been able to get rid of this dark shadow over me.  What a major
       grip it has had.   Now...Words like this!!  Things in turmoil will always
       be in turmoil... since to believe anything else is not realistic.  I am finally
       releasing myself from my self-imposed pain and constant sense of failure!

       My work continues to be productive at my studio.  Creativity on the rise.
       Satisfied with what is appearing artistically - coming from the studio.
       From my head to my fingertips..... I'm back and I create good things.
      After a very, very long time!


      Question:  Anyone have any experience with # Ringsurf - I can't get into their
                        system.  

1/3 of My Last Life

1/3 of my last life left me today.   

I called an art teacher friend and offered her boxes and boxes of art supplies I had bought myself in order to have something for my students to do.  All these supplies fitted into my friend's car.

 This was what I had to do to keep my students working.  They struggled to find their own voice,
 often doing nothing at all. Being creative was so hard for so many.

Now these supplies will be used  and I can rest knowing my efforts were real.   I'm proud to have been a teacher.

 

  

I like being in DENIAL

 Denial 

 

Remember yesterday? 

 

Remember depression and illness go together.

 

I've been sucked in again.  Just when I have a really

 

HAPPY  sort of day......

 

I slept most of today feeling depressed.

I realize that I have to face my denial and realize there really isn't much of a way out.  Sewing is my creative outlet.  I have been creating art quilts for near ten years. 

Now that I am on disability, it is my pleasure.

 My pets bring me joy, my friends support me, my family is... ah...missing... but they, are better off that way--- it appears.

 

SO I treated myself to a used sewing machine and have already enjoyed it. Then next day, the bottom fell out.  I asked for help... but there was little. (*In a weird way I  expected this.)  But didn't think living on such little money would be this hard.  Why don't we talk about the "adult bullies" out there?  Try getting knocked down by lots of people you thought were your friends.

Plus there are a lot of little creeps around pretending to be "customer service representatives!" (There are a few I admire, but not many.)

I know what abuse looks like.  Please take note.... your health or other circumstances could change and you'll be treated as I have been.  I'm the example this time.  No worries...now.... another day comes tomorrow.  Maybe I will sew to forget the rest.
                                                           

www.cathyjeffers.com

So.... Sew (Listen to your prayers)

 Who knew I could ask one night for help and that the next day things would work out. Then your sewing machine dies and you have to take things seriously. First, you pray your machine doesn't have to go to the repair shop.  It takes a while and the cost is always more than I expected.  But now it takes $150 just to look it. So I bought another old PFAFF today.

• What do you love so much you will spend money for repairs?
•  Would you just buy something to replace it? Will you justify doing it because it makes you happy?

Several people told me they were so happy to see me sewing again.

Hearing The Negative

Unless.... I am totally going deaf.  I am noticing my ability to only hear the negative.

In the past:

• I only heard the negative.  I know I have said this before, but now, I don't have to take directions.  Fortunately I am no longer working.   (I am thrilled...) Plus, I no longer have to follow the directions from people I do not respect.
• But the damage is already done. I had a dream recently where I was laying in the hallway of my former school crying and saying " I can't do it anymore." They wanted me gone. I never revealed how sick I was.  

Currently:
 

     I catch and hold on to negative comments as in anything NEGATIVE.

    Because I am so weary of my current situation, I assume people will think I am irresponsible.

•  People will think I unable to my meet many obligations.
• I shut myself down and manage to do with fewer people, ( AKA Friends.)
• I stay up late and sleep weird hours so I can say I was sleeping, and turned off the phone.
• I had a two hour phone conversation with my friend who told me many things but I still can't get it out of my head that he said I could be overbearing. Or maybe it was another word.  I don't remember, but I reminded him that I had insecurity issues.  Something he knows nothing about.

    
                          I need to remember toxic people are not good for me.

Update 9/16/13-- He says he never said I was

overbearing and gave me an example

for "why" he wouldn't.

               I am working on new ART.  Photos to come soon.

Weeds

 

 

I spent most of the summer watering a plant that was my healthiest one. Of all of my garden plants that I carefully started by seed, the beans looked the most promising.

I had been watering it all a long, but didn't understand why no beans had started.

Well this gardener was fooled!!

 

 

I've been nurturing a Milkweed!

 

P.S.  Do not Google Image "weeds."

Depression Pains

 

 

Depression

Causes Me Pain

 

- - - - - 

So I had a doctor's appointment to check out my surgery today.

I was suppose to have someone take me to this today



but I didn't want to ask anyone so I drove myself.

I didn't take any of my pain medicine, so I would be okay to

drive.  On the way to the doctor's I cried from hurting here...

and... here... and... here... and... here.

 

I was still sobbing when I gave my name and they called

me back to the exam room.

 

 

Not one, but two friends lost their jobs today.  The one knew it

it was coming, but the other friend didn't see it coming at all.

 

I am up at 2:00 a.m.

 

Surgery Chronicles

 

 

I had my surgery and I am now at home. I was really mad- doctor was running two hours behind and I had to lay there with my IV in waiting my turn. Finally I went in for surgery and he did his thing.
 

 

Once in recovery... I WAKE UP to the nurse

yelling "Wake Up Mary" to a deaf woman next to me.

 

I beg to be discharged to my room.

 

The nurse said I couldn't because my oxygen was low.  I looked over and realized she was reading from a machine which was hooked up wrong.

 

Finally back in my room, I slept seven hours, and then got up-- and peed all over myself.  I was so

embarrassed!  However, the next day I had dropped my nurse's call button and I tried  to unhook myself so I use the bathroom on my own.  Somehow I pulled the wrong line and sprayed my blood all over the room. It got on the floor, dresser, bed, and even the curtains. I called the nurses in finally and
realizing my mess, I suggested they look on the floor.  Poor nurses.

How can I not get depressed?  Even two days in a hospital can get crazy.

I admit I do it.

 

 

Accusations

 

 

Yesterday I was in full "glum."  I know, glum sounds like a word from a fairy tale where the old woman sat at the wooden table feeling glum. 

Glum-

blue, bummed out, dejected, depressed, dismal, dispirited, down, gloomy, low, melancholy, morose, sad, sulky

I talked to my guy this morning and asked if he wanted to

hear the accusations I have.  No he said calmly, because they are just accusations.

 

 

 

 

 



Silent Saturday

 

 

Today was a Silent Saturday.

 

When I was in  group therapy, members often

talked about isolation.

 

I completely understood as I have

 isolated myself plenty.

 

1. Today I never left the house despite the fact it was a gorgeous day.
2. The phone never rang.
3. I only talked to my animals.
4. I took a long nap.
5. I did email with my friend and told her my insecurities.
6. I ate a lot.

 

This is how it feels.

Procrastination and 11:11

 

Pro-  projects which go unfinished. (cleaning, organizing, purging, art making)
        
cras-  +(h) things which pile up until they crash.

tin-  (reverse tin)  Intention I stand here alone, but I have good intentions to change my surroundings. I have too many things to clutter my mind and the space in which I live.  I have limited time to remove the clutter and start healing.  #11:11

a-  Mom, Friend, Artist   -vs- unhealthy -vs- the rest of my life.

tion-  Saving my "Imagina-tion." <3 U  FOR MY oxo's
__________________________________________

http://1111progressgroup.org/     http://www.dimension1111.com/angels.html  

 



S-u-r-g-e-r-y...and IKEA

In a few days I will be heading off to surgery.  I told my doctor--"It's kinda empty in there isn't it?"
I pictured my body looking like elbow macaroni.  I was now hollow, with a big butt and bent over.

The doctor said "NO, your body fills in."  Okay, so no longer elbow macaroni... maybe a taco?




My daughter is leaving for school soon. Big problem has been getting her a mattress.  I had two at my home but no way to transport to her college.  Note to self:  a mattress does not fit in a Honda.

So, along with tons of other mom and college-aged children,  we trek off to IKEA. How times change! Days are gone with crayons and Cinderella folders.

A Mom too!

This artist is also the mom to two grown daughters.  I remember my first college apartment.  My dad (RIP) had a truckload of furniture magically appear at my apartment and I said thanks at the time-- but had no idea what it takes to get it there.

Daughter #2 didn't realize you couldn't drive the interstate with a mattress strapped to the roof of  mom's car.  Who knew?  (She does get it honest as her parent's first queen size bed came home on  the top of her dad's Fiesta in the rain.)

How did I know I would be going to garage sales with her today... and be following the signs to "Empty the House" from a guy from Michigan with a metal dumpster half filled in the drive making deals.  Poor guy, I told my daughter, he's here for three days and he is trying to knock this out in one weekend. The house smelled like pee I thought.  Thirty-five dollars later, we had her bedroom nearly complete. 

I just saw the house on the Google map tonight--and realize now there are some dag-gone rickety steps to climb to enter this second floor space. I'm not climbing those I said.  This isn't my apartment.

I'm driving a car load of your belongings up to school tomorrow.  No magic delivery.

Oh Geeezze!

 

 

Oh Geeezze!

 

Yesterday, I was on edge wondering what would happen

with my quilt exhibition in Fall City, WA.

My friend kept me posted and she said the visitors were

happy to see my quilts and gave positive comments.

 

Reality: I had to call a  plumber to repair my leaking kitchen sink

yesterday. It was flooding my counter tops.

There was also a leak under the sink.

This mess under the sink and the plumber's bill were my

reality check.

_____________________

 

Today, I went to hear a motivational speaker. 

She seemed to pick me out in the crowd and was calling out to me in a sweet tone. 

At break time, I went to use the restroom, where the toilet flooded on me

leaving my shoes and pants soaked.  I felt l had to leave. 

I let someone know I was going to report it and went to my car.

The speaker followed me downstairs and seemed to want me back.

Sorry, I told her, I needed to leave and showed her my pants.

We had a hug and said we would get in touch by email.

                                                _________________________

 

I'm on a roll now.... will I need a plumber tomorrow?



Many thanks to those I share my love of art quilting.

 Well, it hit me!

 

 

Last night- right before I fell asleep it hit me. In just a couple of days

my art quilts get to be on display, to speak for themselves.

Although they were created by me some time ago, the designs I created

were clearly in the moment.
 

What really happens after that moment is you set it aside.  Sometimes to review, cut a thread,
but mostly, it goes into my closet.  What was I really thinking when it was being created?

Did the fabrics come together with careful planning?  Did I just grab the blue fabric on top?
Did my ideas really play out? 

Will my energy be there in the room which displays them?  Will I be able to have others understand my message?  Will I be proud?  I think so.  
I can hear best wishes from my friends.

I am an artist.  Repeat.  My work can stand alone.


My depression fears linger.

May I finally ignore those hurtful remarks, (still lingering in my head,) by a quilt teacher in class-- to me and to others.  First time I had a art quilt teacher so critical. Her message was not about her being in love with the moment she created her art. She loved the production and the sales. So glad I am not her.  So glad.
 

Art Quilts

                                       My Art Quilts

I have been talking about how I am an artist and now I am going to
show you some of my art quilts.

4 months ago I didn't know if I was going to be able to continue...

Now, I am looking forward to my next exhibition.  The next show is going to
be in the Seattle area.  I live in Ohio -so just getting work ready to hang, priced
and shipped out was using a --creative me.                                       

                        

  















 For more information and prices depressionheads@gmail.com

 

 

 

Am I Stupid?

 

 

Am I Just Stupid?

 

Can anything else make me feel more

 inadequate than computers?

 

For someone with self-esteem issues, I am so frustrated with my computer  skills.  First, this lap top is clearly an untamed beast. An orphaned computer from my friend Tuna, this computer has some type of dyslexia.  While I am trying to write these words down, I can only demonstrate my typing in these two sentences.

                  

                     1.       This is what I want to write.

 

                     2.   computer does while I am not look ing

This is what my

 

In addition to this problem, I can not seem to do anything without being out

-smarted by ads that come on without warning. 

 I am just trying to get my thoughts down on the page!!

The other day I had entered about 13 programs without my knowledge.

DAH??  I don't think I have a virus, just a strong willed lap top that eats my time and

 forces me to edit the task manager often and BLEEP... what a royal pain.

I spent three days updating my website this week and instead of finding myself with a

satisfied glow, I find I am just thrilled that this computer is willing let me write anything at all.

 

Please Annie, (my spiritual angel) let this blog give me the positive outlet I desire.

 

 

Mouth Droppings

 

Mouth Dropping

I had lunch yesterday with several old friends to  "celebrate" my departure from teaching and depression.  <Mouths DROPPED>  Who knew I hid my physical chronic pain and my unhealthy depression so well?

 

Few People Knew...

It was September 2012 and I had an injury to my foot and couldn't work because I was told to stay off my foot.  By  December 2012, I returned to work, saw that my medications were not working well and requested a new depression drug. I continued to suffer with my depression doing awful things for weeks. 

My emotions  were raw and I spent the Christmas season, alone, and at home crying in private.  I finally got smart and went back to the pharmacy and got a refill of my old depression medicine. The blend made me feel better until I could see my doctor.

I was also suffering from bronchitis. I was in and out of one infection or another. I had to go to the ER for several breathing treatments.  On my third trip to the ER, in answering the ER nurse's questions, I admitted I was depressed.  I said I had a plan but had not acted on it.

I never saw her after that, she gave me some drug to take the edge off.  I fell asleep and when I woke up, all of my belongings were gone and I had been placed in a locked holding area.

I asked what was going on and they said I was being held because I appeared like I was suicidal and I was going to be admitted to a mental hospital.  "WHAT? I needed to get home and take care of my animals." I was in the hospital for five days.  Then I had to group therapy for a month in April.

Was I tricked or was it a blessing?