Le poignet…

August 27, 2010

Poignet is French for “wrist”.  Sounds lovely, as most French words do…

Here’s to lovely wrists.  I’m hoping mine will return to a state of familiarity, in that it works happily and without pain or issues.  The cortisone shot I had yesterday made it sore, yet it seems to be better today.  I can only hope this continues.

We take too many things for granted, I fear.  The more I’ve been reading about wrists and how they operate, it’s truly miraculous that they work so well most of the time, anyway!  How intricate and complicated the structure really is!

I need my right hand.  I need the articulation of my right wrist.  What will I be without this agility??  How could I carve wood, or draw, or cut hair, or pet my cat, or dry off from a warm shower without my wrist?  Or for that matter, what about holding a cup of coffee, or unscrewing a lid on a jar, or brushing the hair out of my eyes on a windy day??

Gads.  This experience has been so humbling, really.  Two silly falls (or two and a half if you consider that extra slide/fall at Gerbes) and me with a bum wrist.  Part of me is wondering if it’s symbolic, and then the other part of me says, “crap…don’t go there!” Whatever will that mean or say about my future if I explore that route??  Sigh.  I prefer to just think it was a period of gracelessness, and now I appreciate a part of my body in a way I never did.

I’d like to be smarter, though.  I’d like to appreciate things before they are altered or gone so that I have no choice but to appreciate them in retrospect.

It’s time to be pro-active.  Time to give a shit before it’s too late.

Here’s to Cortisone shots mixed with some Lidocaine, and here’s to my wrist!  May it forgive me for being clumsy, and may I truly understand and appreciate all that this body does for me on a regular basis…

Off the wall visuals…

August 23, 2010

Cemeteries are kind of trippy.  They elicit a myriad of thoughts and emotions, and are often inviting in their isolation.  All those people that once were here and now are not.  Life is such a strange thing to do, really…

I had this visual one time while passing a cemetery that many would probably find bizarre, yet I’m going to share it anyway.

I was thinking about the fact that all those no-longer-here people all started out as infants, as we all do, and instead of seeing a lawn full of headstones, I saw a lawn full of wiggling babies.  The notion that we are all the same in the beginning, as we are in the end, was profound.  Here, and then not…

I don’t know…it sort of put things in perspective, perhaps?  The cycle of life and all…

Now, whenever I pass a cemetery, that is all I really see.  The beginning, not so much the end.  Babies… Oddly, it comforts me to know we were all babies once.

Yes, a bit off the wall, I know…but I’m an artist.  I understand my world through images and analogies.

Here’s to life; from beginning to end…

“Seeming devolution”…

August 19, 2010

My aunt and uncle were Rosicrucian.  I always thought their beliefs were groovy and kind of wild.  After many years of ‘esoteric studies’, I now see that we could have had lots of interesting conversations had I not been so young and inexperienced when they were alive.

Uncle Lloyd was particularly mystical and had the “second sight”.  He told my aunt that he saw ‘the light’ around me when I was little, and this notion continues to make me feel safe and whole.  He was a delightful soul, and I miss him to this day.  Fortunately, the bond that I feel for him, and with him, is still strong.

As I approach my 47th birthday on Sunday, I am reminded of one of the tenets of Rosicrucian thought.  They believe the yearly ‘term’ from the day of one’s birth until the following birthday is divided into seven, 52 day cycles.  Each cycle has its own focus, yet it is the last one prior to one’s birthday of which I am reminded this day.

“This is the most critical period of your yearly cycle. During these fifty-two days the elements in your life that are no longer needed for your development gradually fall away in order to make way for those which are new and better. Remember it is a period of seeming devolution which always precedes a period of evolution and new opportunity.”

Perhaps this is why I have felt a bit out of sorts, of late.  My sleep is off, I’m kind of wobbly inside, and I feel a restlessness that is difficult to sate.  Since I’m big into the notion of rituals, I’ll go ahead and attribute these “princess and the pea” tendencies to the idea that I am gearing up for the new.  The new me as a 47 year old person.  The new me starting hair design school.  The new me as a full blown artist.  The renewed soul, ready to begin again and strike out fresh into this bright and sparkling year.

Yes, I like this way of seeing…  It gives possibility and strength to the idea that we can continually renew, and we can do so most profoundly on a birthday…   Aho!




Predators…

August 17, 2010

The other day I was talking to my husband about the upcoming dove season.  He knows I’m not a big fan of hunting, yet if you need the food; I can dig the quest.  As I am both a biologist’s daughter and a biologist’s wife, it behooves me to understand the natural order of things.  I do try, yet sometimes those silly doves just seem so helpless…

This conversation got me thinking about us as humans.  We probably should still have human predators, don’t you think??  Maybe not something quite as fierce as dinosaurs, yet something to thin the flock, so to speak.  I suspect we would be way more alert, and grateful for those days we eluded being potential prey. Living in the moment would be a necessity, not an esoteric endeavor…

I bet there would be less obese people at Wal-mart, too.  It wouldn’t be safe to be unable to run.  Riding in those fatty-caps would be dangerous!  Motorized meat, indeed!!

Perhaps we are just too complacent as a species.  We feel superior and justified in our continuous taking.  I think it would behoove *all* of us to understand a little bit more about the natural order of things…

I bet the doves might have something to add…

Out of body experience…

August 15, 2010

Very early this morning, driving to my mother’s house in Fulton, I watched dawn approach on the horizon with a myriad of purple hues.  I felt the somewhat cool, damp air blowing through my windows, and all I could think was…”man, I wish I could unzip this body and fly away.”  It wasn’t a sad thought, or a depressed notion of wanting to “end it all”.  I just wanted out.  Out of the body and all it’s responsibilities and needs for a while.  I wanted the freedom of being just a color in a morning sky.

Eat the right food…get the right amount of exercise.  Don’t hurt yourself…don’t strain your back or your wrist.  Get enough sleep.  Don’t be too fat or too thin.  Use the right products. Be healthy, be diligent…maintain, maintain, maintain…

Don’t get me wrong.  I’m grateful to have this form, and to be able to do all that I can do, physically.  It’s just a lot of work sometimes, and we really never get a rest from all these responsibilities.

I saw a cartoon at the Animation Festival in KC many moons ago and it was of a couple coming home from an evening out on the town.  They were walking around the bedroom, talking about their experiences from the festivities, all the while…taking off items of clothing.  The delightfully funny and surprising end to this cartoon was that they kept on going to the skin level.  Once all the clothes were removed, they took out their eyeballs, and pulled off their hair, and finally unzipped their ‘skin suit’ and hung it in the closet.  Two skeletons finally arrived in bed and said goodnight to one another.  It was a charming notion.  Devesting of all parts.  Down to bare bones, both literally and figuratively.

Maybe it’s the heat.  Maybe it’s my wonky wrist.  Maybe it’s just this day, but hey…

Being just a color sounds good to me…

Once upon a fall or two…

August 10, 2010

Back in February, I slipped on the ceramic tile kitchen floor and fell onto my right wrist.  It hurt like a mother…keys went flying, and I scared Bodie, to boot.  Not long after we moved, I was headed to my car in the garage and didn’t see a wet spot by my car door, and went sailing into the air once again.  I remember thinking as I was headed towards the ground that I just *could not* land on that wrist again.

But, I did.  I suppose it is because I am right-handed.  My left arm just didn’t have a clue as to how to be dominant in that situation.

This particular fall also hurt like a mother and my wrist has bothered me on and off since.

I went to see my doctor yesterday as the pain has increased some of late, and further exploration into what I may have done to the wrist is recommended.  Duh.  Problem is, I can’t afford the MRI (literally), and I can’t afford the wrist being injured (literally and figuratively).

As an artist, my hands are a huge part of my work.  As a soon-to-be stylist, they will be essential.

Now I am stuck in a brace, hoping that it will take care of itself if I just rest it a bit.  It’s kind of hard to rest your dominant hand, however.  How do you stop doing everything??

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