Lloyd has Stefano wrapped around his zampa(paw).

I can hardly believe it is Monday night here. I left the US on Thursday and arrived in Rome on Friday. Stefano and I stayed over night in Rome and the next day we went here and here. This sculpture is one of my very favorite pieces of art ever.
Saturday night we came back to his town and then I slept for most of Sunday and about half of today. I have still been getting over my cold and did not sleep much on the trip. I am finally feeling rested now and a little better.
I was very happy to see my Lloyd and Winston. They are however, very bad cats. :-) When I left here 2 months ago they were eating just dry food and I would fill the bowl one and a half times a day. They both want to be formally adopted by Stefano now who has been feeding them wet food from a can three times a day. Hmmm. Nice work Lloyd.
Tomorrow morning we are taking an 8 AM train to Florence. We will be there for two nights to celebrate the new year. We will be back late Thursday night so I will try to post something from our trip or more of my sketchbook pages this Friday.
I can hardly believe that next weekend (January 10, 2009) I will be moving to Venice and my project there will start on Monday. I am a little nervous but mostly I am just incredibly excited and ready to start drawing there. :-)

Back in Italy.

I will post more tomorrow. Just wanted to say I am here. :-)

Trip stumble (fall).

Here are several pages from my current sketchbook. I will be traveling back to Italy on Christmas and I will update my blog after I get there. See you in a few days!

tattoo review

The not so common dentist appointment.

Much like the experience I had last weekend (of dealing with a common cold) a routine visit to the dentist's office yesterday set off a lot of triggers and was completely hard to get through and emotionally painful to deal with. After the appointment I was completely tired and I felt really bad but I was not able to explain the 'why' immediately. After I left the dentist's office yesterday I tried to do my usual 'emotional dump' of what had happened; why it had bothered me, etc. I spent yesterday afternoon packing and trying to get organized for going back to Italy this Thursday. As soon as I stopped doing that and sat down to talk to Stefano over Skype I knew something was wrong.
It is hard to explain the details since it is still hard for me to think about it. Having a mouth and teeth and trying to accept knowing about all of the ORAL ABUSE I survived... it is exquisitely painful. Anyway- I used to be able to dissociate when I went to the dentist. But those days are gone now.
Ouch.

Congratulations Jessieh!!!!!

Jessieh has received an award from the National Foundation for Advancement in the Arts!!!! Congratulations Jessieh! You are WONDERFUL WONDERFUL! I LOVE YOU!

Flying the friendly skies with Mr. Flexible Skeleton.

I just called the airline to ask them how/what I need to do in order to take my plastic model skeleton to Italy with me next week. The woman on the phone thought the whole thing was incredibly funny- which was a little weird actually, but she was nice about it all. She told me it should not be a problem- that they will probably just have to open the box at the airport, but that then they will probably just put a "sensitive sticker" on it and I should not have any problems. I hope that it is how it goes. I have been obsessing about taking it with me- I don't want to have any trouble getting it there- but I just feel like I really want it with me when I am doing my three month project in Venice. So Mr. Flexible Skeleton is packed and ready. Now I need to figure out how to make a handle on the box so I can carry it. I spent about an hour packing it into a box that I 'made' for it and it should be safe. I hope nobody gets any broken bones on this trip. I will be really upset if it is in more than 206 pieces when it gets there.

stop, drop and draw. (post for Jessieh.)

I have spent the day trying to get organized. I am going back to Italy next Thursday, so I have one week to draw and to get myself ready. Anyway- after a couple of hours of trying to organize stuff in my room and figure out what I am taking back to Italy and what I am not taking- I felt like I was going to cry. I felt totally overwhelmed and almost sick and unable to think and I just decided to sit down in the middle of the huge mess that is this room and draw. And it was SO good. I keep writing in a sketchbook and then going back and covering the pages with drawing. It makes me feel better. I am trying to not hate myself for what my dad did to me. I keep writing that I feel like if there is a hell that I fear I am going because of what he did to me. It is painful and sad. But the whole mess is less painful when I just let myself sit down in it and draw. (I love you Jessieh. Keep going.)

In the Upper Room (Twyla Tharp)

SAY IT LIKE YOU MEAN IT (RAPED FOR 14 YEARS)

Dissociative Identity Disorder as defined by 'Wikipedia':

Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID), as defined by the American Psychiatric Association's Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM), is a psychiatric diagnosis that describes a condition in which a single person displays multiple distinct identities or personalities (known as alter egos or alters), each with its own pattern of perceiving and interacting with the environment. The diagnosis requires that at least two personalities routinely take control of the individual's behavior with an associated memory loss that goes beyond normal forgetfulness; in addition, symptoms cannot be due to substance abuse or medical condition. Earlier versions of the DSM named the condition multiple personality disorder (MPD), and the term is still used by the ICD-10. There is controversy around the existence, the possible causes, the prevalence across cultures, and the epidemiology of the condition.

???!!!!??!!????TAHW .noitidnoc eht fo ygoloimedipe eht dna ,serutluc ssorca ecnelaverp eht ,sesuac elbissop eht ,ecnetsixe eht dnuora ysrevortnoc si erehT

'common cold', triggers everywhere.

Last week I got a rather large blister on the bottom of my foot and after I popped it I removed the thick piece of skin over it. Ok... that was a completely terrible idea and for two days I was limping everywhere and going on about how much it hurt like hell. (Hard lesson learned: Pop blister; leave skin alone.) By Saturday my foot started to feel better- the skin in the place where the blister is started to become harder and less painful to walk on. Saturday afternoon I started to get sick. Lisa had a terrible cold when she returned from Germany last week and I was just waiting to get it. As soon as I started to feel the sore throat I started taking "Airborne"3 times a day in hopes that it would reduce the symptoms and make it easier to get through. I spent all of Saturday and Sunday in a kind of low-grade panic attack because my throat hurt so much. I woke up last night in the middle of the night and my throat hurt so much I wanted to cry.
I can handle being sick but the 'sore throat' is almost more than I can tolerate. Last night I felt like my throat was actually 'tight' and I was having trouble getting a full breath. I realize no one likes to be sick, of course- but anything about a sore throat or trouble breathing and I go from being "somewhat uncomfortable" to well... to a kind of constant panic attack.
Stefano spent his Saturday and Sunday working to remind me that the pain I was having now was from the COLD; even though it was reminding me of a lot of other really terrible things (mainly: being choked and suffocated and having my father hold me down by my neck when I was a child. He used to (LITERALLY) push his thumb down INTO MY LARYNX and the pain of it was like being stabbed with a knife in my throat. Such an acute and incredibly sharp pain was hard to dissociate from and that IS THE VERY WORST PAIN OF ALL- THE ONE THAT IS SO BAD IT IS HARD TO DISSOCIATE FROM.).
So last night I woke in the middle of the night and my throat hurt like hell and I was grasping for water and trying not to (literally) panic or cry and I kept reminding myself of Stefano's words- that it is 2008, that I have a bad cold... And while I was having the memory of my father holding me down and keeping my paralyzed by pain with his thumb punched into my larynx I was also trying to just focus on my breathing and blow my nose and get a sip of water and try to get comfortable enough to fall back asleep.
I woke up just 4 hours later and LIKE A MIRACLE (!) my throat barely hurts at all this morning!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yes!
My entire nose and head and ears and chest are congested and I can not go anywhere without a Kleenex in my hand BUT MY THROAT BARELY HURTS AT ALL. AND THANK GOD!!!!!!!!!!!
I was SO happy when I woke up this morning and realized that even though I felt sick in a lot of ways my THROAT was not on the list and seriously.... THANK GOD. Or the Airborne. Or whatever.
As soon as I got up I took more cold medicine and another dose of the Airborne stuff and I am going to get more today. I emailed my doctor last night and told him I had a bad cold and asked him if I should still come to therapy this morning- not wanting to get him sick. He wrote back saying that if I was not coughing there was little chance he would catch it, so if I felt like I could make it I should go. So I am going.
The point of this post is not really so much about every little detail of how I spent the last couple of days- about the blister on the bottom of my foot or the cold... The point is this: This is the first time I have had any kind of cold or had even a 'minor' physical problem at all since I have gotten so far in my therapy work. And so it is the first time I have really had to deal with "my body" and really 'feel' so much of just the normal body feelings of being sick. AND IT WAS HARD.
Like I said.... the thing about the sore throat almost made me feel crazy. Yesterday I was so anxious and so disturbed by the throat pain it that I seriously was feeling like I might cut myself. (And I usually just have that thought when I feel really trapped by my own 'body'.) Anyway- I know it is just a small cold. I wanted to write about how hard it was to deal with though because I think it is hard to understand how something so small and 'common'... like just a regular little 'cold' (and like a lot of other little small daily events)- IT WAS A HUGE TRIGGER WHICH SET OFF A TON OF TERRIBLE MEMORIES OF AWFUL events from my past.
...Even though now the throat pain was really (AND THANK GOD) 'just from a regular cold'. (Thank god.)

MISC.

DO IT FOR ART! (Help an artist!!!)

I am thinking about writing a letter to someone at amazon.com and asking if they can't just send THIS to Genevieve for Christmas. Any suggestions how I might start that little email? Is there some sort of "online Santa Claus" I can contact for her? Anyone? Suggestions? Anyone?

PLEASE LEAVE SUGGESTIONS!!! THANKS!!!!!

p.s. I have tried twice now to write here about a certain topic and my mind (both times) has become a knot. I type and delete and type and delete.... For about 30 minutes it has gone on now today. Usually when I want or try to write about a very painful experience from my past I have trouble actually getting it out. My thoughts try to run in a sort of 'self protection' mode and it is painful/hard for me to just sit with the clarity of the memory. I will try again tomorrow.

Peel it away.

The above image is the work of Liza Lou.

I do not recognize myself in photos sometimes.

This image is the work of Jenny Holzer.

so many new languages.

I used to cut myself when I felt bad but then I stopped doing that. Now I try to draw when I feel bad.
Ero solita tagliarmi quando mi sentivo male ma poi ho smesso di farlo. Ora provo a disegnare quando mi sento male.
The hardest part of my therapy right now is this: It is the way that the reality of the past is becoming more real. The reality of the present is becoming more real too, and that part is good.... but even that is painful.
La parte più difficile della mia terapia ora è questa: è il modo in cui la realtà del passato sta diventando più reale. Anche la realtà del presente sta diventando più reale e quella parte è buona....ma anche quello è doloroso.

thinking in pictures, new sketchbook, (on knees), pages 1 & 2

A little nap and then right back to work.

For the past two weeks I took care of 7 cats and 2 dogs while running a small backyard buffet for a host of birds, raccoons, and foxes. Lisa returned from Germany yesterday and when I picked her up at the airport I was practically singing and dancing I was so happy. Except I was so tired from cleaning that I could hardly stand...
Anyway- she is back and I no longer have to spend my time making peanut butter sandwiches for the raccoons.
I am hoping I will be going back to Italy on Christmas night... I should know for sure in a few days. So now I have a bunch of things to do to get ready and my artist residency in Venice will begin 5 weeks from today!!!!!

Boots.

(image 7)

(workinprogress)

PASS IT ON!

This image is by Genevieve and by clicking on this sentence you will be taken to her blog 'Spit Happens'.
Genevieve is a strong, creative, funny and intelligent woman who is also VERY SICK WITH ATYPICAL CYSTIC FIBROSIS. And she has been having to fight like hell to get the proper medical treatment. Her story and her art are on her blog.
When you read her blog if you have any thoughts or ideas about how you or I or anyone you know might be able to help this woman get the medical treatment she needs and deserves please feel free to contact me either by leaving a comment on this post or sending me an email at artconstellationATgmailDOTcom. My ideas so far include: notifying her local newspaper and/or television station and making them aware of her struggle to get the medical care she needs. All other thoughts/ideas/suggestions are WELCOME.
Thank you in advance.

Jenny

The MOTHERLOAD.

Last night I had a nightmare that was an 8 (on a scale of 1 to 10 (And I never give a '10' because I can never believe the worst has happened yet. But maybe it has now...)). Or maybe it was a nine... I was thinking about bumping it up to a nine.... And it occurs to me now and as I type this that most 'stage 9' dreams usually get that rating exactly because at first they seem like they are terrible but perhaps not totallyandcompletelyfuckingawful but as the day and then days go on and the the "dream" (quotes used here because this was, as usual, a dream which was in fact not a dream at all but instead: a part of my mind sending me a very clear image which is a fucking horrible really true memory and not a dream but instead just served up to me in that form because I have been unwilling to hear myself about this issue in any other way). Righty-o... I have therapy in 30 minutes. Oh my doctor has such a HANDFUL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

trapping

yesterday I had this incredibly painful conversation with my therapist about the idea that what my father did to me mentally was actual more painful/worse/torturous than the 14 or 15 years of the sexual abuse that he inflicted upon me. This is true but hard to grasp/understand/accept because the sexual abuse part is/was SO huge and SO grotesque and SO over the top and then a thousand miles beyond... etc. It is hard to think about even thinking about the meaning of the psychological torture and the way that he had me trapped. I mean: he had me always trapped like a little animal in a cage (physically) and I was always gnawing at myself and him to try for survival there- but then the sexual abuse stopped and then I had to basically keep the mental torture going without him because it was all I knew how to do and it is oh-so-painful to stop it now because look-at-what-it-all-means-whence-it-is-added-up-all-in-and-together.