OPEN to Gratitude

I spent last weekend in the presence of and listening to anthropologist Angeles Arrien in a workshop on Gratitude at the Mount Madonna Center in Watsonville.  She is a lovely woman with an open heart. To sit in her presence and hear her speak was magical.

I hadn't been at dance for two weeks due to Yom Kippor, (another experience atoning and cleansing of the past year while sitting in community). So when I entered the dance hall, put my painting up, and saw Eva, I told her "I feel I'm a different person than I was when I was here two weeks ago."  That statement popped out of my mouth, and I'm still not sure why.

The dance theme from Eva was "Be in the space/room NOW"   But after having this painting witnessed on the Altar for 2 hours, someone suggested the title...OPEN.  It sums up my experience of gratitude...that I can open my heart to myself and others.  That I can be protected and still offer compassion instead of judgement.

Returning

Swan: Returning to Nature

Our painting practice has commenced again after the summer break when Eva was in Europe.  I trusted myself and painted with joy, and the image emerged flowing from my heart through my arm to the tip of the brush. 

Stuck...Release

Can you see the word NOW in the painting?

All sides of Me

Hello Again, It's been many moons since I posted an entry, but rest assured that the painting practice has continued.  Here is one from March 2012. For the past year,  I've been painting every Wednesday with Suzanne. It has been richly rewarding to paint side by side with the same theme, and yet some Wednesdays, I don't even look at hers until they are both attached to the wall of the altar and we start to dance.  I am the literal painter and she is the abstract painter. I am the outsider artist and she is a trained painter. A great sharing has occurred.  This painting shows how I have been influenced.  I used to cover all the white paper with paint and think I was done.  Now I can layer the paint and add some depth.  Like?

MAGIC

EXTEMPORANEOUS

Make + Shift

PAINTING PROCESS

COLOR :  MOMENT : TIME

dance * awareness * boundary

SHIFT + ATTENTION + CONTAINER

EXTEMPORANEOUS:  Carried out or performed with little or no preparation.  IMPROMPTU

Unrehearsed performance

the paintings reflect

LIVELINESS

process

PASSAGE OF TIME

layers

inner spark

Inner Spark.

April 25, 2012

I stopped by Flying Colors today in Berkeley on 7th street.  I went in and asked for Michele. She designs libraries and I spoke with her before I accepted my current job.  I knew her from taking the Painting Experience out in the Avenues in SF in 1988. she and her husband David and I would drive over from Emeryville together for a few weeks.

I hadn't seen David in over 20 years and he came out and said Michele wasn't there and could he help me.  Then he recognized me and we sat down and talked.  He had just spent one month in Hawaii.  I showed him my paintings on my phone.  He is lovely.  Sold the  business and they are going to move to Hawaii and live where they feel at peace.  He thanked me for sharing my paintings. He felt it was evident that they were painted by someone with life force.   They are a gift to the world from  my soul.  From my attention to my intention.  I am exploring an idea through the paint.  the imagery i feel compeled to repeat is bodies alive. Bodies stoking the Goddess. Bodies honoring the Hero.  Bodies channeling Life Force. I hope that when someone looks at an image of the painting or the painting itself, they get a split second of appreciation for being alive.

And now for something totally different

Autumn Release

Some paintings are a struggle and some paintings just flow. This one flowed and then while dancing and seeing it on the altar, I saw how the leaves fall and go into the soil and become seeds to begin the life cycle again. Soothing.

Finding your center

Theme: Finding your center when you and everything around you is changing. We visit this theme in different ways from time to time and it's fun to see what comes through.

Back at it

My dance teacher, Eva, was in Germany for the summer and I was enjoying the dance in Sausalito for a change of space and energy. So I wasn't painting regularly. Now I'm back at it and want to share what has emerged. The theme was "subtle transformation" and it coincided with the Jewish New Year of Rosh Hashana. I went to services at Chochmat Halev in Berkeley. As always, it was beautiful and inspiring. To sit in a big space with high ceilings and look around and see familiar faces creates a sense of awe. How often are we in spaces with hundreds of people to sing and pray to return to our soul? With Chochmat Halev we celebrate the Spirit and with reverence and gratitude ask to be written into the book of Life for another year. All the more precious since having cancer.

Summer Solstice

It's pouring rain out as if its October...very strange. The theme was summer soltice. I had painted a sun in 09 that I never liked, so i just painted over the center with a fresh design.

Dreaming out of your mind

The theme was Dreaming...dreaming out of your mind.
I cut a big piece of paper and imagined I would paint a big head and chest and have the background dark and forbidding and have the inside of the person come alive with color and swirl and hallucenations, but I pulled out a painting from just a few weeks ago and realized I'd recently painted something similar. (see MAY 5th Inner Resources)
So tonight I did something I'd never done before...I made a template..I drew a figure on watercolor paper and cut it out and then traced it with a small paint brush, the first one centered on the bottom of the page, the next one opposite and on top, then left, right and infill until there were eight figures hand to hand. I painted the center yellow, around their heads, where the dreaming connection takes place.

Anyone ever read "the King of Ata are Waiting for You" by Dorothy Bryant? The island is inhabited by deceptively primitive people where every aspect of their waking lives is governed by their dream life. They slept in dream circles and considered the dream world their reality and waking world the support world.

I had just spent 3 days in Mendocino, including an afternoon at the botanical gardens! the rhododendrums and the azaleas are in bloom and are so large and saturated in color..reds and purples.

The painting has many layers, you can see different things depending on the focus. Someone said he saw big fish heads taking a bite and making the center star, many people did not see that the blue ring were figures. I find that satisfying.

Dreaming 5-25-11

Another amazing night of dance. Toward the end of the evening with tribal drumming music blasting, a spontaneous dance circle formed and we took turns in the center. The rythmn was fast and it was as if we had decorative war paint on our faces and grass skirts on our hips. I couldn't stop moving, vibrating, and smiling.
The theme was "Dreaming...the dance is our body dreaming."
I had wanted to paint a head with all kinds of images floating out in dreamland, but I realized I needed to paint a whole body.
The dancer is moving through her dreams as light as a feather.
I became aware of my own style, that I like to blend the colors and paint breath into all parts. Laura did the warm up sequence last night and asked us to imagine our bodies filled with fluid...and that is what I paint. Fluid bodies moving through space....dreamy!

Suspended in the NOW upside down...Flying!

When I got to dance, Kathleen the Altar designer, chose to hang the painting upside down...which I loved! The "flyer" looks untethered and free! The support figure is open handed, and the flyer isn't dependent on him, she is flying all on her own!

Suspended in the NOW

The theme was "NOW". That everything in life has brought us to this moment. I was thinking that when my dance partner spins me around, I am very aware that I am flying through space, and that I must sense the lift and trust that when the momentum is waning, I will twist around and land on my feet. What could be more "in the moment" than that?

Freedom

Altar Image

Apr 6, 2011 Growing Toward the Light

My Gift

Last week I had my first "art opening." A collection of my paintings are in a big display window on Harold Way at Addison in downtown Berkeley. I met a woman with the Downtown Berkeley Business Association and she offered me the spot for 3 months. I put an invitation on Facebook and 15 friends and family showed up, including my lovely teacher Eva and Altar designer Kathleen. We then went into the Hotel Shattuck and had a drink (I love the Black and white wallpaper in there), then some of us went to dinner at the Revival Cafe. It was wonderful!
I finally understand that having a show is not the need for validation, although it is that, but it is truly my gift to the world.
Someone said how much art rejuvenates her, and who am I to deprive her of my vision? Another said that seeing the paintings together offers not just a viewing but an experience. Thank you for those words.
I like to paint and see images of Life Force energy coming through us and connecting us to the source and to each other, which is what the dance offers.

Inner Resources

THEME: What inner resources do you draw from to maintain well being? Ah...what a challenge for me, since I am someone whose emotions change with the wind. What do I return to when my well being is off? The dance has taught me to breathe in deeply, down into my solar plexis, and to find the spot I carry anxiety in and breathe into it. To find that spot, stay with it, and know that I will be okay. That is the level of faith that has eluded me...trust in myself that whatever happens, I will be okay.

a Cruel drug

I just searched these blogs with the tag "breast cancer" and "met" fellow bloggers dealing with BC. those lucky one in eight that are members of this rotten club. It is such an emotional roller coaster. The Tamoxifen continues to reveal its affects on me, blocking my estrogen and tweaking my body. A little league mom who is a year ahead of me on this BC journey said "Tamoxifen is a cruel drug." That says it all. It's robbing me of the natural unfolding of menopause. The journey of becoming a wise old crone has become a journey of recurrence avoidance and down shifting from 5th gear into 3rd gear...lots of grinding and surprises. Not a smooth ride. there is always something odd now going on with my little body. Last year someone who had cancer told me that "every little ache and pain you feel you'll ask yourself if it's cancer." I remember thinking, no I won't....but guess what??? Yes I do!

The Center Line

The theme for was "the Center Line...moving with Balance." Look how the painting lines up as a head dress for the buddha...and the dancer is supported, the feet wedged in. This painting is inspired by a new dancer to our group who spins from the center line so elegantly and with verve and passion. I can barely keep up with her. I'm good for a song at a time, but now I am learning to follow the slower rythmns to accomodate my "new normal" of energy. Slowing down isn't as much fun, but showing up and giving it my all is worth a lot.

Hello Friends, The ultrasound didn't reveal anything to worry about...it's dense in there and the scar tissue makes it hard to read so the radiologist recommended a breast MRI, but for now, I'm clear. With my new job comes new insurance, so leaving Kaiser is scary, but now onto Blue Cross/Blue Shield. The Mondor Disease, the blood clot under my arm along my ribs that goes into my left breast, reads as calcification on the mammogram and that is what the radiologist wanted to look at more closely. One doctor says take it easy, two say keep swimming and dancing to promote circulation. I swam on Saturday and yesterday I dropped my sister off at the airport and went dancing last night! Thanks for all your support.

Life just keeps on coming

I'm making calls, going out on appointments, learning all about a new company, fixing dinner, keeping up with my 3rd grader's anti-social behavior, my teenager's experimentation with alcohol, my partner's business struggles, my own schedule of dance, swim and paint. Wow, it's alot to keep up with and I am once again being challenged by my left breast. I had what felt like a bruise on my side, and although there was nothing visual on my skin, it has evolved into what the Dr. says is Mondor Disease, a blood clot that makes the vein underneath visible. It comes up my side and then into my left breast. Coincidentally, it was time for a mammogram and they have called me in for an ultrasound to further explore. The radiologist said with the scar tissue and breast density, it's hard to tell what's going on. Dr. ONeal says she feels a swollen lymph node and while I'm there tomorrow, I should have them ultrasound that, as well. If it seems suspicious, ask for a biopsy, although it could be from the blood clot. "blood clot" sounds horrible, but supposedly it's not the kind that could travel into my heart or lungs and take me out instantly. The remedy is an aspirin a day and warm compress. Since the two surgeries a year ago, my breast has all kinds of weird sensations going on. Now it is more than ever...psychosomatic or is something really going on?

Last night in dance I saw how easily I am blown off my center. The theme was "moving from the center line.... In a balanced state." I have always been easy to rock, and yesterday was no exception. I just wanted to cry and hit "start over" so I might do things differently, create a life that wasn't so full of stress. Yet I do know that it is not what the stresses are, we all have them, it's how we carry them. I carry them as big heavy burdens wanting direction and decision, two things that challenge me on the simplest level...like what to eat or when to shower.
I'm reminded of an inflatable clown that you can punch and it gets knocked over but always comes back to standing. I need that kind of resilience.
Again, the challenge is to stay present in the moment and appreciate what I do have, and not let the fear of the what might happen ruin my NOW.

New Beginning

Hi Friends, I'm off to Chicago today to train for my new job, as a sales rep for No. California for Agati Furniture. My SFO project isn't quite finished, lots of delays at the airport, they are running construction crews 3 shifts, but the terminal 2 looks great and I can't wait to fly out of it in the future. THe furniture is almost all installed. It's been a great project for 1 1/2 years, now on to Agati.

Here is last week's painting. the theme was Unity Consciousness, that we all tap into the same life force. I intended to paint the life force coming from below, but instead what emerged was life force side-to-side. In the class, Eva had us stand in a circle and hold hands and imagine our roots intertwined, reaching to the center of the earth. It was a wonderful sensation, to be a part of. I realized my side-to-side imagery suggests we are all connected to each other.

In my last post, I wrote that I'd finally given myself permission to paint breasts. Three people have told me I am "delusional," that in fact I have painted breasts many times. So I went through my archives and sure enough, I found a few paintings with breasts, one that you see here. But allow me to make a distinction: I have painted breasts before, but I realize they were in the context of fear, pain and disease. This time around it was breasts in terms of pure pleasure (hence the fancy nipples.) I plan of giving myself permission to paint them again and again!
Thanks for reading and offering me feedback.

Permission

Eva sent me the dance theme this afternoon, "The seeds of intention. When you intend something, then you help create it. The intention of Pleasure, Well Being and Wholeness." I figured the seeds of intention are in the mind. Pink for pleasure, brown for wholeness, blue for the gratitude of being alive in a body. I immediately focused in on "pleasure"and finally gave myself permission to paint breasts. As the clock was pushing 7:00, I added the fancy nipples, using gold shimmery paint and white, as if it were icing on the cake. So, in my mind, there was no doubt that these are breasts, but then a man at dance thought they were testicles, which I really appreciate. When I came home, my older son said I should start painting something BESIDES breasts for a change!!!!! and here I am feeling like I just gave myself permission to paint them for the first time! ....Like the Woody Allen movie when the screen splits and Woody is on one side telling his therapist that they never have sex, only 3 times a week and Diane Keaton is on the other side saying they have sex all the time, 3 times a week. It's all a matter of perception.
The painting was a big hit with fellow dancers. It amazes me that I can be reading the theme at 5pm, stare into a blank sheet of paper on the wall an hour late, shush my critique and trust that I can paint something, using my old smelly, dried out and cracked tempera paints. In a way I wish they were sand paintings, done with love and care and only meant to last a few hours. My paintings are witnessed for two hours,and then sit in the warehouse on a shelf gathering dust. And what to do with them when I move? They are so big. I really would like to have a show, I just have no energy to put into creating one. Where? to frame or not to frame? push pin into the walls? put price tags on them? print the greeting cards and sell them at the show? or continue to appreciate the extemporaneous value of creativity?

Tonight I felt like an artist with a vision, a calling, a purpose. I want to take two photographs of my girlfriends. One chest shot (no head, no arms, no belly) with naked breasts and one chest shot with a beautiful neckline. Then I want to paint a picture of their breasts and a beautiful neckline. The image can remind us to touch ourselves and remember that our breasts are sweet and delicious. They are designed to nourish and they offer and receive pleasure. I want to celebrate them instead of sexualize them, I want to honor them instead of fear a cancer lump in them. Some one at dance told me about organic breast oil, found at the Grand Lake Farmers market. You rub it in with your hands circling around on your breast 37 times. It nourishes them and helps you get to know their texture and lumps. I want to get some and start right away!

This is the first painting I did at the anniversary workshop. You might say it was the warm up. The paint feelings like painting with mayonaise, very juicy and smooth. This painting was damaged and I gave it to Ezri's art teacher to cut up for collage at his school.

Alter Feb 17, 2011

Anniversary

A year ago February 4th I was diagnosed with cancer,Breast Cancer. It's hard to believe a year has passed and that the ordeal is behind me, because truthfully the fear of a recurrence is with me every time I eat something. I wonder if my body is growing more cancer and if I'm eating enough anti-cancer foods. I know I eat too much sugar. It's hard to feed my boys what they will eat and make what I should be eating.

To mark the year, I treated myself to a weekend painting workshop with Stewart Cubley of Process Arts. It was his class, the Painting Experience, that I took back in 1988 that helped me pick up where I left off in 3rd grade, painting for fun and not concerned about the product. The workshop was at Fort Mason and it was a gorgeous weekend, sunny and warm. For the past 3 years my paintings have been fast, done in an hour or so before the dance class starts at 7, a useful deadline that has become an incredibly fertile practice. But in the workshop, I painted on one big painting for hours, adding two more sheets the second day and making it even bigger. "I surrender, I pray, and I expunge." I indulged in layer upon layer, quietly patternizing and getting into the groove. In that process, I had a sensation that "trust" was a physical feeling. If I could feel that sensation, I could trust.

I took this painting for the alter last week and it was great to get some distance on it. I've included a photo of the alter...thanks to Kathleen's vision...as usual, the painting came and fit in perfectly

There is a part of me that wants my life to be different, to have better relationships, to be a better parent, to challenge myself, to feel more satisfaction with myself.
I can acknowledge even the tiniest successes and expand on those. I am the gracious leader of my inner cast of characters and I lovingly heal them one by one. I treat all parts of me with compassion and understanding.
I have strengths and positive qualities. I have follow through. I have patience. I can look ahead and see what is needed. I have perceptive insights that I can take action on. I can acknowledge that these strengths are a part of me, no matter how small. I can contact these strengths within myself and enlarge them.

Support

I had a Shamanic Healing session with Veena, who calls herself Laughing Dolphin. She is amazing. An East Indian from Singapore, traveling the world to share her visions.

I showed her this drawing, "Save Yourself". She asked me, "what parts serve me? and what parts don't? and when cutting those parts out, go for big margins! My intention is to trust my intuition in every waking moment, as I do in my dance.

I have her recorded meditations on my ipod, so when she began, asking me to relax and be guided, I was able to drop right in and breath deeply from the center of my soul.  Tuning into my energy, she channeled different elements; guardian angels had a message for me, the Grandmothers sang to me, and, of course, laughing dolphins came through, along with the Goddess Kwan Yin and a hebrew prayer (and she didn't know that I am jewish )

The Sound of My Name

The dance theme last night was hard to wrap my head around,

"our true name" - that name, that sound that is the rhythm of our heart, the flow or our breath, the movement
of the blood in our veins... It is how we show up, it is how we listen to
what has heart and meaning - without judgement and attachment to outcome.
This is where our true name lies...

So I painted the Sound of My Name. I just went with my favorite symbol, my favorite brush, and painted long luxurious strokes. I love the image. It's big and bold. It makes me think of rototiling the earth.

In my last blog I complained about feeling alone, and many people contacted me to remind me that is not true, and I know that. It was a weak moment, one of fear getting the best of me, when I know gratitude is what calms me. After a long swim, (I'm back to swimming a mile, as I did in my 20's, only back then I could do it in 30 minutes, now it takes 45, but I am NOT complaining!) I focused on what is right in my life and after wards I felt fantastic. (thank goddess for endorphins).
Last night, feeling strong and grounded, I had a great dance. I'm beginning to see myself as one of the "elders" there, one of the more "developed" dancers who can drop in deep and move their body into many positions to during different tempos...slow movements with deep breaths to fast movements with limbs and sweat flying! What a practice. There was a young woman there for the 2nd time, maybe she is 25, and she reminded me of my first few times, copying others movements and laughing the whole time as her body moved in new ways. She admired me and said she couldn't keep up! Our movements in daily life are so limited in range. Most, like driving and typing are forward movements. On the dance floor one can move side-ways or backward and build lateral strength, stepping out with wide arms and horizontal legs.
I went to the Dance Performance at Berkeley High and it was fabulous. Fresh music, great choreography, high energy. It was a challenge to stay seated!

Fire of Awareness

This painiting is from December 2010 and the theme was a challenge. Eva had asked, how can we have the light of awareness and the compassion to hold all of our parts?... the good, the bad and the ugly? I couldn't separate light from fire. I imagined it would take a strong person to hold the light or be in the fire and to be compassionate with oneself while looking into your own darkness. This strong man emerged holding an offering of compassion, while being inside the caldron. Here is someone so strong, they can remain calm and offer presence while standing in the heat. I feel in the crucible. What I have taken for granted is up for grabs. Nothing is certain, the future is unknown. Can we stay in this house? Shall I take the job offer and risk changing health insurance? Will my sons be able to stay in Berkeley schools? Will I move and start over in a new community, will I be able to afford to keep everything afloat? I feel so alone, yet I know it comes down to trusting myself, and you don't need other people for that. Painting allows me to practice trust. The images I paint onto the paper continue to surprise me, and that I can trust the process and not get in the way of the imagery that takes shape. As I view the painting during the dance, I can see myself in the vessel, with no way out except through. Paint paint paint. Tomorrow is Wednesday so we will see what the theme is and what emerges. My studio space is up for sale/lease, so it's days are numbered...another unknown.

This is where I stand

I have been continuing to paint, but out of my routine of photographing and posting them. Maybe because it's so freaking cold in my studio, getting in to paint is all I can muster. But the process continues and life goes on. The theme last week: "This is where I stand." I started out painting a body with hands overhead and it looked like it was jumping on a trampoline, so the legs were covered up with a heavy cloak and the earth's red energy coming up from the center of the earth into the body for grounding and the yellow energy of universal love coming down through the crown for healing energy. They meet at the heart and melt into orange. Happy New Year. I'm looking forward to a good 2011.

Robert Becker

My brother Andy called on New Years day to say our friend Robert Becker died of a massive heart attack at 3am Florida time. He was 48. I can still see him at age 4, a blonde haired, skinny thing with a big smile and a penchant for mischief, running around in the summer at the Jewish Center in Long Beach where we went every afternoon to swim and hang out while our moms played Maj Jong. So many moons ago. He leaves his beautiful 15 year old daughter Hailey and wife Anne-Marie. He's the little brother of Mark, one of my brother Andy's oldest and best friends. I hung out with them at the Strawberry Music Festival for years, before we all had kids and were foot loose and free.

I've had my face off with a serious illness that threatens to take me out of the game, but I was lucky. He was not aware that his heart was working too hard or his arteries were clogged or whatever happened. He didn't have a chance. One minute toasting his brother and friends in California long distance and a couple of hours later, dead. It is so final. It is hard to accept. No opportunity to say we love him, that he is one of the funniest guys on the planet, especially when in the same room with Andy, Dale and Mark. He is the first one my age in our circle to die. Not what anyone would want the prize for.

I am plagued by fear of a recurrence. I dutifully take my tamoxifen every night and suffer through hot flashes that ruin a good night's sleep and force me to strip down to my undershirt on a plane home from Chicago. Thankfully it the undershirt was black and I had a scarf to cover up with as I made my way to the head. I have sensations, some painful and others not, in my breast that makes me wonder what's going on in there, residual reminders of two surgeries. Now I have pain in my chest that feels like a boot is standing on me, a feeling in the center of my core, behind my heart chakra. In the same vicinity that the three cancer tumors were removed. The pressure is back with a vengence. I swam a mile twice last week and then again yesterday, and afterwards and all today I have been uncomfortable. I did some deep breathing and yoga movements before dinner and it is definitely my lungs. Last year I had a chest x-ray and it was clear. The diagnosis is stress and anxiety, which isn't hard to believe, I certainly have a ton of stress in my life. Plus the fear that it really is a hidden tumor or pleurisy or something horrible that hasn't been revealed yet. I keep trying to breath into it, meditate, dance, relax, take things in stride, make decisions that will make my life easier, yet the pain in the center of my being remains. I need to find the balance of what is in my control and what isn't, and "the wisdom to know the difference."

Ease, Trust, Confidence

The image of a spade came to me when someone asked me to take the shape of feeling confident and trusting. I put my hands together on my chest and I felt the shape of a spade, the inverse, if you will, of the heart. In the painting, the spade pulls up energy from below, like roots of a tree. These roots look more like jet flames and the energy suggests rocket power!

Witness

Eva's theme came in today as the witness.

I painted the dancing skirt being witnessed. The skirt is in the spot light, held with Witness' gaze, tuned with his blessings. Skirt moves gracefully, confident that her breath is leading her to a deeper place. A place unknown, but she trusts she'll be ok. After all these years of being witnessed and held in the dance, she can trust in each moment how to move or stay still, waiting to feel the inclination to move from within. She's learned to wait patiently to contract and expand. She can trust each moment. If a dancer comes along and groves with her, she can trust it is safe to drop in with another, and the moment she doesn't share the grove or feels inclined to dance away, she does. Let the evening unfold as it may. Witness confirms she has permission.


In the dance tonight, Eva led us to breathe in a blessing for our selves, and to breathe out through our skin blessings for others. Take the time and feel the blessing deep with in at the center of our core, the inner blessing of life force traveling through us.

Someone said my painting looks like a mermaid sitting with a dancer on her tale and scales coiled around her torso.

Eva emailed:

Dear Lauren
The theme today will be the Hara point again. Bring your painting from last
week, too.... For me the Hara point is, where the power and strength of the inner dancer lives..
Hugs to you my dear
Love
Eva
Looking forward what you are coming up with today

This is the first time I have painted the same theme two weeks in a row. Last week was energy points along the life force line without the physical body. This week, I imagined myself as I lay on the floor and do my warm up. I breathe into my core. It takes concentration to balance and strength to stay in this form for a minute or two.

In the painting, the background circles represent other Hara points all around, people in my life, people on the dance floor. The washed out circles below are bigger and represent our ancestors, Hara points linked to me genetically.

Hara Point

Dance theme from 10-8-10:

Our theme today and next week is "support" .
Today we will go into the inner support of the Hara point, which is one of the energy centers along the center line.

Facing the blank paper, I started with the Hara point. I kept intending to add a figure, to draw a body, but it didn't work out. I kept painting energy points along the Life Force, yet the body did not present.

I've been reading the Power of Now and meditating on "beingness." Here it is. The life force that is not dependent on the body to be seen. Maybe the lesson of having cancer is to cultivate my spirit being and worry less about my body being. Of course, I want to stay in my body as long as possible, but maybe if I develop a strong sense of being, when I do lose my body, my spirit will move on in another form.

To my surprise, fellow dancers loved this painting. It is fun to let something unknown emerge. And trust it. Trust my process. Trust my dance. Trust myself. Getting there one painting at a time.

Being Held

"The dance theme today is again the 360 degrees. This time we use the image of the tree to explore the space around us with arms, mobilize the arms... And reinhabit the space around us on all sides. Invite all sides of us. ... The underlying theme also is to not go on autopilot on the dancefloor but to stay engaged. Looking forward what you come up with. Big hugs E"

This is what I came up with. People dancing in community, filling space above, below, in front, beside and behind them. In a faceted world. Now I see it as my family, bound together in a house of cards, vulnerable to falling through the cracks. I try and keep the yellow field strong for them, offering love and support so that they don't slip through the bars. There is only so much I can do in my compromised energy level? Am I doing the right things? Should I be doing more? Is there enough structure that I can do less? let go? focus on myself? Go out into the world 10 hours a day to bring home the bacon and provide a roof over their heads, money to pay for their activities, and have health insurance to stave off disaster? Is it too much for me to handle or do I trust myself to persevere and believe we will still be connected and loving when some of it falls apart?

Days of Awe

As I sat in prayer with the Chochmat Halev community on erev Yom Kippur, I drew this.

At dance we sometimes brush each other, to cleanse and ground. I like to end by putting my hands on their feet, to feel the connection to the earth.

I wrote my first poem last night:

In my dance:

I am witnessed
I witness others

I receive
I offer

I love
I am loved

I am open
I can forgive

I can choose not to let fear color my beautiful precious moment of now
I can trust that I shall do whatever has to be done to stay present, open, and healthy.

Calm amidst Chaos

That was the theme for last night's dance. I painted chaos around the figure and it was too much for me so I took white and tried to smooth it over, which did calm it and me down.
During my dance I was thinking of the big ugly scar on my breast, and how a buddhist friend said it could be a reminder of the impermanence of life. I've been considering that now for a couple of months and I find it is instead a reminder to open my heart and feel gratitude. I am thankful for all that I have.

Acknowledgment

I got home from SF and saw an email that the theme at dance tonight was Acceptance. After we shed that which is no longer needed, what do we have when we let go? Ourselves. Can we accept all parts of ourselves? I painted a person in meditation, because when I sit, I can feel that everything is just as it should be. I can accept that all is right with each breath and that is all I need to concern myself with in that moment. I ran the painting over to dance at 6:15 because tonight was Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year, 5771. I sacrificed a night of dance because I wanted to go to services at Chochmat Halev. I felt like sitting in community, in meditation and gratitude for being inscribed in the book of life for another year. I went by myself, for myself. I didn't want to cajole anyone into going. It was a smaller crowd this year, but I saw many familiar faces and sat with a close friend and his mom. The music was lovely and the singing delightful. There was even a dancer to one of the prayers and we all stood and followed her motions. I saw a mom we knew from pre-school and thought of a family we sat next to at back-to-school night last night. The woman thought we looked familiar but couldn't place us. She told me her name, which is a distinctive persian name that I remembered. I asked if she had an older child, maybe we knew her through Aaron's friends. She said she did have an older son who was at Berkeley High, but he was killed in a car accident in March. When I thought of her boy, Kyle, I started to cry, letting the sadness of it touch my heart. Rabbi Sarah Leya asked those in the first year of mourning to stand and say the kaddish, and even though I never met her son, I stood for him and said the prayer, tears streaming down my face. Later, at the end of the service, we were asked to all stand up and hold our hands up palm to palm in a healing circle, and those who needed healing could stay in the center. The circle was quite large around the perimeter of the volumous space and I automatically got up to be a link in the chain. Another friend motioned that I should go into the center to receive the healing. I feel fine and I want to believe there is no cancer left in my body, but she was right. I wanted to receive healing energy. I sat next to my friend's husband and took his hand without saying a word. Almost immediately tears began to stream down my face again. I let my own sadness come through. I hummed along with the vibration of the circle. A tear rolled down my cheek and along my chin and dropped into my blouse, landing on my breast right where the tumors had been.

Back to it.

Last week I was back in Berkeley dancing with my homies of Core Connexion after taking the summer off, so I hadn't been painting. The theme was letting go of elements no longer needed, like a tree sheds it's leaves in the fall. I imagined a flower, and how sometimes one needs to consciously pick the wilted petals to let new life grow in it's place.

Big Sky and Glaciers

Hi Friends,

Thanks for checking in from time to time to catch up with me. I had sent 15 yr old Aa off to Costa Rica for 4 weeks and decided that I, too, needed a getaway. I wanted big sky and water and someone suggested Alaska. I found a 6 day kayaking trip that looked fabulous, but then realized it was overly ambitious. So instead, my sisthar met me in Seattle and we boarded the ms Rotterdam with 1500 other people and 600 crew. We "sailed" passed Canada to south east Alaska, experiencing everything from thick fog, choppy seas and strong winds to smooth water, bright sun light, gorgeous skies and beautiful clouds.
Now I'm home, feeling refreshed and relaxed. I actually forgot about my troubles for a few days. Aa is home and he had an "awesome" time. He arrived home the night before I came in and he surprised me while I was waiting for my luggage. He looked healthy and strong with a wide smile and he gave me a big hug. I wanted to cry. Four weeks was the longest I had been away from him for 15 years.

Commonweal Organization

Saturday I spent the day "in retreat" at the Yoga Healing Center in San Francisco, sponsored by the Commonweal organization for cancer patients. Among other things, Commonweal runs the Cancer Help Program, which addresses the unmet needs of people with cancer. I first heard about the center from reading Rachel Noami Remen's book, Kitchen Table Wisdom, back in 1997. It told the stories of those affected by cancer and how with the aid of Dr. Remen, they were able to connect to aspects of themselves that allowed their healing to unfold, whether that meant living longer or living more fully with the time they had left. That book, along with Stephen Levine's Healing into Life and Death, was a book I felt compelled to gift to people many times. I now realize I need to find another copy and re-read it.

The day was guided by the experience and love of the Commonweal staff and attended by a handful of other women affected by cancer. Sharing my story and hearing theirs, was poignant and touching. One of my challenges is to balance hope for the future with the threat of recurrence. Some women have been revisited two and three times, a devastating blow. The possibility is real and always hanging over one's head. We did yoga and had a delicious vegetarian meal prepared by Rebecca Katz. She joined us for a discussion of foods and recipes and we were all given her book, The Cancer-Fighting Kitchen. It was inspiring. At the end of the day, after a guided meditation, I left the center and walked along the streets of the Marina district to the water at Crissy field. I felt strong and warm (with blustering winds, fog rolling in and my jacket wrapped around my head) and hopeful that cancer won't define my life.

Tamoxifen

Yesterday I finally took my first Tamoxifen pill, one down 1824 more to go (5 years worth.) I had been putting it off, waiting to feel "normal" after the radiation treatment, or at least regain my stamina, but that was asking a lot. It was 5 months to the day I was diagnosed and it being July 4th and all, I put the pill in my pocket and left for E's baseball game. Sitting in the bleachers around noon, I quietly took it. It was that simple, and yet so complex. The thought of slamming into menopause and joining the ranks of hot flashers has been hanging over my head, it feels like the final end to my youth, in one easy swallow. The opportunity to slide gracefully into the next phase of womanhood while still parenting an 8 year old is not an option, because I really don't want more cancer to deal with. So side effects, depending on my body's reaction, are the trade off.

A couple of hours later in conversation with another little league mom, she revealed her diagnosis date and time of day from two years ago, her choice of mastectomy and chemo, and her daily intake of Tamoxifen and a pill that keeps cancer from returning in your bones. (Interesting. She is on the faculty at the UC school of public health and upon her diagnosis, changed all her insurance so she could go to UCSF, citing it as the cutting edge in breast cancer research. They recommend the bone pill and a pelvic sonogram as a baseline for uterine cancer, one of the Tamoxifen side effects.) Aside from those juicy suggestions, what she said that really resonated with me, is that over a year later, she still has a hard time accepting menopause at 44.

"A hard time accepting." Yes. I am not alone.

Distance

My 9th grade son, ADMS, left for Costa Rica last night for 29 days. I had signed him up for this trip soon after my future was rocked with knowledge of breast cancer. I couldn't imagine planning camping trips and keeping him busy, so I thought...get him out of Dodge...and immerse him in Spanish. I might have sent him to East LA given his attitude of late, but I saw an organization mentioned on BPN called Education without Borders. He'll be living with a family in rural Costa Rica and then working on an organic coffee farm and making smokeless stoves. I hope he learns a lot of Spanish and works hard and breaks a sweat for more than 20 minutes at a time. I imagine a couple of hours of hard labor would really do magical things for him, but I know it's wishful dreaming on my part. At 15 he needs his butt kicked, at least in this mother's opinion. I keep trying to give him limits but he does what he pleases and I end up yelling and then feel guilty for losing my cool (which starts at warm so I'm always half revved up to begin with). The immediate gratification of screaming is needed to relieve the pressure I build up in my little body when he disobeys me and leaves at will and comes home when it suits him, with complete disregard for any curfew I set. In my transition from parent as manager to parent as consultant, my expectations are going bonkers....too high....too low. My words now have no value while his values have been reduced to one: make each decision based on the most immediate gratification (which gives us a lot in common).

The dance theme was breath and inspiration. I painted the body and the heart and had a lot of white paper left with 20 minutes to go. I needed to speed it up and picked out a brush I never use. I started painting the background circles, thinking of all the hustle and bustle of daily life that challenges my serenity. I choose mis-matched colors and let myself go wild. During the dance, when I get to see the painting from a distance instead of up close, I saw the white strip the figure is sitting on as the plane where body meets spirit. It's the plane I try and get to during meditation (not that I meditate that often.) It's like the thin creme filling of a chocolate mint, subtle yet rewarding, sandwiched between the darkness.

This week I am feeling stronger, able to taste the sweetness of life.

The radiation fatigue is lightening up and I'm starting to feel better. It's been almost 5 months of living with the knowledge I have cancer. Now I need to start living with the sense that the cancer has been eradicated and I've survived it. I am now a BC survivor. (time to get a pink ribbon for the back of the car ?) I'm in the process of revamping my attitude and making changes to my life to increase zest. Dance and paint. I read a book called "Cancer As A Turning Point." It's premise is that the key to boosting your immune system is to find what in life lights your fire, makes you want to hop out of bed in the morning and gives purpose to your days; to do NOW what you have put off for the future, to take more control of some things and give up control of other things. Finding that balance is the challenge, but posting my paintings to share with all of you is a big thrill for me.
Thanks for tuning in and looking!

Dance Retreat

Last weekend I took a retreat. It was the 3rd year that I went with Core Connexion to the Land of the Medicine Buddah for a weekend of movement and authentic exercise. It is in the Santa Cruz mountains; beautiful land, hot weather, delicious vegetarian food and a peaceful community. Eva creates a space where I feel comfortable to be myself and feel what's true. I hesitated to sign up this year, given how tired I'm feeling from the radiation. But then I remembered what was going on for me last year. I'd just celebrated my 50th birthday with a blow out party in the rug showroom. I had put all my paintings up and had over 90 people come to help dance and celebrate. It was a blast and I felt 50 and fabulous. But a week later at the retreat, I was again feeling the pressure on my chest that I hadn't been able to shake since it started the previous August. During the first or second dance session last year I had had to stop and step out because I felt like a boot was standing on my chest. It was painful and scary. My friend J had recently experienced a heart attack and I wondered if my heart was diseased or compromised. When I got home, I saw my Dr. for a physical exam, an EKG to test my heart and a chest x-ray. Everything was fine and the only explanation for the pressure I felt was stress. Now here it was a year later and I was back at the dance retreat after two surgeries to excise 3 cancer tumors that were right at the spot where the boot pressure had been. Interesting.

So despite my fatigue and increasing burn pain from the radiation, I decided to go. I didn't have the same joi de vive that I usually exhibit, in fact, during each of the 4 dance sessions I had to step out for the high energy songs, but Eva was so understanding and gracious to accommodate whatever I needed and to let me know when to come back in to participate in the exercises. We drew with pastels, witnessed each other dance, wrote words for others and then poetry from those words about our dance. Very powerful and fun to spend time in that deep world of somatic expression.

Saturday afternoon R, a fellow dancer, offered me a healing session. I had no idea what that meant, but I gratefully accepted. I layed down and he sat next to me with his drum. He coached me to imagine going underground to meet my spirit guide. I chose a spot in Joshua Tree that had held me a few weeks ago and I visualized going under ground there. I met a wolf and it seemed so predictable. I asked if he was my spirit guide and the answer was no. I met a fox and it seemed too sneaky, and the answer was no. I saw a cobra snake and really wanted it to be my guide, but I figured I had created that image out of desire and maybe it hadn't presented itself authentically, but as I continued, the snake wrapped itself around my ankle and tripped me. I tried to get up, but instead the snake and I were swimming like dolphins in a cave. So Cobra snake as spirit guide it is.

Wednesday's dance theme: "To hold space for yourself and the dance..."

I tried to hold that theme in mind as I went into the studio, but I really wanted to paint a snake. Now I can see I did paint a space for myself and the dance, in a container with a wide brim and a snake to hold me. To dance and be held, yet open to possibility. That is what i love and that is just what happened. Thank you Eva and the Core Connexion community!

Elaine Young: September 24, 1921-June 9, 2010

I got the call at 9:30 in the morning that E had died. After 9 days of no food or water, her spirit and body parted ways. She has left a void and we will miss her. This painting is dedicated to her.

In the afternoon I emailed Eva for the dance theme for tonight. Eva wasn't sure where she was going with it and called to chat. I felt honored to be included in the conversation and discuss the important matters of life: breathing, grounding and being witnessed. How our body defines inner and outer space. She began with the core. It can be hard like a mountain, flow like the ocean, be wide like the sky and warm like the sun. Or it can be nothing; emptiness, nothing and everything. In the studio, I started with a circle in the center that came out squat like an egg. I painted around it, and as the surrounding colors and images evolved, I came back to the center void. It needed to be bigger and as I painted it become a round shape of nothing, all white. No boundaries. I thought of Elaine, who after 88 and half years, left her body on the surface of the earth and dissolved. As I painted ripples in the water and shadows on the mountains, I thought of Elaine leaving behind the material world that we still enjoy, the vistas, colors and beauty. I really wanted to keep painting and I was running out of time. 7 o'clock was creeping closer and I have to allow travel time to get it to the alter. It was 6:48. What more did the painting call for? A boundary around the white circle? a line to define it? or let it just be?... I went for it. I quickly outlined the circumference using different colors, two thin lines each, and then regretted it.
Looking at it after K and I pinned it to the wall in the space, I saw those outlines representing the what we use to define our being with; our mind, our emotions and our physical body. The line is the definition of our presence here and now Elaine is not. I guess I wasn't ready to accept that she is gone. Maybe I'll go back and paint the outline out when I am ready.

Today was also my last radiation treatment. Sixteen doses. Whew. The Dr. told me the side effects peak a week or two after treatment ends, the gift that keeps on giving, but nonetheless, I felt a milestone had been reached. Beams of radiation have been aimed into a specific area of my body with laser precision. It has left a burn patch on my skin with a clearly defined tan line, distinct boundaries, but it doesn't match any bathing suits I have and the color is more orange than a dark tan. All the fast growing cells in my left breast and surrounding chest have been killed. The healthy cells have been struggling for their lives and have increased my appetite with their demand for nutrition, feed me! The cancer cells are history, hasta la vista, sayonara, kapoot, being dismantled and re-absorbed as I write. Thank you high tech modern medicine.

I celebrated by dancing. I found a scarf in my dance bag that I used after surgery to reign myself in and tie my arm to my side. I used it to blindfold myself and create a boundary between my inner attention and relating to others. I let the music move through my body and breathe into each muscle one by one. I tune in and find where my breath is needed next. In the dance I can feel the delight of my body, moving, beating, shaking, swaying. It is nourishing, the opposite of empty, it is a refueling.

Crossing over

I am very close to my cousins B and K and love them dearly, including K's mother E, who is 88. E had a fall earlier this year and broke her wrist and suffered a concussion. As we know, injuries like that are hard to bounce back from. E was independent, living alone in Rossmoor and driving back and forth to visit her daughters, both in Oakland. She was a designer and made her living from her handicrafts, from making check book covers for Gumps in the 70's and 80's to sewing custom clothes and coats. Elaine was a self-made woman and I always enjoyed visiting her in the quiet and beauty of Rossmoor in the Tice Valley of Walnut Creek. Her small one bedroom apartment is chock full of antique chairs she had reupholstered herself, ornately framed portrait drawings, flowware plates and black metal candellabbras. It is crowded with hand crafted wooden boxes and over sized hand sewn tapestry pillows. Stained glass pieces hang above the windows and everywhere you turn there is a piece of beauty and interest, with a provenance that Elaine would gladly share. She spoke with a voice tinged with New Orleans and although I've never been, her place and her grace gave me a taste of being there. Last Wednesday, over a week ago now, B called to say E was fading fast. Her heart was failing and her energy was diminished. B knows and honors that my Wednesdays are paint dance days, but he suggested it might be time to go visit. My son Aa and I raced out there and saw how frail and weak she was, but she recognized us and was able to say a few words. I was so proud of Aa with his presence and ability to look into her eyes and tell her he loved her. That was over a week ago. I visited over the weekend and again on Tuesday. K is staying with her mom and caring for her in such a loving way. Family gathers and drops by and we are all holding the space for E to receive her family and friends and feel their presence as she prepares to cross over, to learn the secret. Her body is working so hard to house her spirit and that union doesn't seem long for this world, it is straining. She is taking morphine. Today her 85 yr old brother flew in from Louisiana with her nephew and E rallied to receive them and have a brief chat. It's amazing how tenacious her spirit is, but not a surprise given her long life and accomplishments.