I have had a rough few months. I wouldn't eat, could not ..... I had a feeding tube put in that failed and then the formula leaked into my body cavity. so now, i have had two open surgeries on my stomach. DEPRESSION and pain, my very lowest ebb, i am asahmed that I took a massive overdose, and was in a coma for 5 days, I barely made it, wasn't supposed to. but i woke up, and really reawakened. I FELT and saw and heard and sensed more than I have in years. Painfully raw, seeping wounds I had to feel without mistreating myself. I am humbled for the gift I was given, anxious my family is worried I will die. I am not dead, not even close. don't want to be, and can't fathom why I would want to be. Everything seemed so immesurably much, and sometimes it is, but how could i leave my family? It is still hard to face what I have done, then awaken to news my husband has another tumor might lose his hearing, on top of his sight and smell from his previous pituitary tumor. My children are resilient and don't care of the what or why it seems, but are just glad to have me back. I did not realize i was so loved or wanted or cared about. the outpouring of love andsupport and people i had thought forgotten about me pretending to be my sisters and cousins so they could get into the ICU where i was hooked up to everything a central line with medicine to make my heart beat ventilator, iv's that made me swell, trying to purge the poison that i ingested. To have been in a coma, there was nothing but infinite blackness, but i was being loved, and music being played for me, trying to wake me from the self imposed nothingness. But now I am if you can believe, unbelievably joyful to be here, to see the weeds amongst the flowers, seeing the dirty house, seeing my hands work, I am not vegaative as they feared. I am ALIVE. how many blessings have been bestowed upon me is overwhelming. I am making art again, listeneing again, eating, dreaming, loving, more intensely than ever. I am so grateful, to the Doctors and Nurses for fighting for my life, not thinking i was a lost cause, and my family for not turning off the machines when they said i was as good as dead. I am blessed beyond blessed and of course my human nature wonders at the wonder that I lived, when I so resolutely wanted to die. I am weak, but I am here. I am going to physical therapy, my muscles are atrophied, but I can walk, i can ican ican. I am immensly grateful

testing...testing...

A bitter chill
icy air
stars are attached by
halos of frost
I can only look up tonight
That is the only direction
There are no poles no lines
Made by men.
I will use the compass of my heart
My instinct instilled through thousands of years
My instinct says
"Look up child! see all that is yours!"
I know what is mine, and as everything,
Transient and everchanging.
I shall move as the stars do,
Silently through a cold night
My own path.

sad

It has been a rocky beginning of this new year. The first month half over and I am like a child searching for a lost toy. You know where you left it, it isn't there. You played with it yesterday and it was under the grape arbor...or was i behind the lilac bush? I feel scattered, shredded, swirling, dizzy with pain. I am silly to try to describe this part of me. I am sad. that is simple enough. I am sad because my fifteen year old daughter is very mentally ill, and after months in hospital, we had to put her into residential treatment. I am sad because she looks at me with total truth in her vast brown eyes and tells me I am not her mother. She says she is 18, 21, adopted. She says I have altered her social security card, she has a real family elsewhere. I am an enemy to her. This began when she was 8. So many doctors, second and thirds and consults with columbia medical center. So many medicines I hated to give to her but hoped. So many doctors saying "she is difficult to treat" "a hard case" You do not want your child to be known as an oddity a case to be studied at medical symposiums. But I let them study her,hoping there was someone out there who could retrieve my child from this dark place. I want my child back, the one who spoke full sentences at 9 months, potty trained herself before she was 1 read Charles Dickens in the second grade. the beautiful witty, awesome child that amazed and delighted me. it has been over half her life now, and they tell me that she probably will never be well enough to live on her own. She will be "in the system" And Gods forgive me that I cannot have her home. She is unpredictable and dangerous, has harmed me and her sisters, Tried commiting suicide and had me at knifepoint. But through all these awful things I clung on to her, and still do. But I am mourning now. Odds are I will never get her back the way she was. I have to love her and accept things as they are. It is a like swallowing a pill made of barbed wire. I will love her and try to keep her safe,and hope for the days that there is a glimmer of recognition, those brief moments where her eyes focus and she looks at me with clarity. And accept the other days for what they are. And make them as good and as special as they can be.

another collage another page

The first image is from my altered book, The second A present I made for my sister for christmas . They just moved to florida so I am going to send it this week now that they are settled. She loves the ocean so I had to put some shells on it, I ganked a tiny dress by dismembering a madame alexander doll from Mceeeedeeez. I made the hanger and once again did a light yellowish green pastel background more papers, buttons ribbons etc. And thanks to Judy, for making me feel like I wasn't wasting my time, and it will spur me to keep going and making more of what I want to make.

Some of my ifyawannacallitart

Kind criticism is welcome. I haven't done any art since I was fifteen, so looking at everyone's art makes me feel pretty inadequate, but you can't learn unless you try I guess. I saw altered books online and fell in love with it. I also love to do collages. The first two images are from the first altered book I have done. The last is a collage type thing with some beading. I used acrylic pastels for the background scrapbook papers, buttons, and a vintage image I really liked.

So much to do and so little time, fudge to make, cards to write. This is a picture of my girls last year at the old house. I couldn't of course get one without them being goofy. Goofy is good. I Really hope santa brings me a digital camera this year. I used to take pictures everyday. Being broke as a joke, I haven't been able to get one. If I do I will be posting many more. My art is calling and I have no time and it makes me sad. Plus when you are wrangling anywhere from 3-5 girls at a time it makes it more difficult. If I am so busy why am I on here? I hope everyone out there has a terriffic holiday season.