My New Art Teacher's Advice: "F*** This Painting!"

My dear friend Sharon Flitterman-King has been nudging me for months to find a new art teacher. So finally I took her suggestion and enrolled in a class with her former art teacher, Kate Knapp, a Berkshire County artist who is one of the most prolific painters I have ever met.

Today was the first day of class, and I will admit to being a bit nervous. After about an hour of painting, I turned to her and said, "Kate, I am thinking too much."

She had rather refreshing advice and she didn't wait a minute to give it to me: "Just throw the paint on the canvas any which way it comes out. Don't worry about what you're doing. Just have a good time and be yourself and tell yourself, 'Fuck this painting!'"

I laughed. I've never had an art teacher (or any other teacher) say anything like that to me before. But maybe because she said that, I dove into the painting and enjoyed it so much.

Thanks to Kate, my fire for painting has been stoked up once again.

Here is the painting I did today in class:

Thank you for pushing me Sharon! 

My Psychic Car Accident and How I Have Healed

By Gina X

Thirsty. Cotton dry. Mouth open for water. It isn't the worst thing in the world to be thirsty. But it's taken me three years to write about it.

Now however it is raining day and night. What a relief! Finally I can write again, dark and light words on a blank page. Phrases are falling out of me. Sentences. Gloriously moist pages are coagulating, black on white paper. And this is what I am writing:

Why the hell did I fall off the edge of the earth in 2012? How did I land in the hellhole that is depression?

For those of you who suffer from it, sit tight, there is hope.

At least I think so tonight.  I am speaking to all of you who are locked in the dark grey dungeon that is depression.

Looking back, I feel like I was struck head on by a psychic car accident. I went through the windshield and was thrown 50 feet and survived barely. Broken bones glass blood everywhere.

OK, I want this to be straight forward and honest.

In March or April of 2012 I realized I was more depressed than I had ever been before.  I had a psychiatrist (who will not be named) and a therapist. I didn't realize it but they were both hopeless or worse, totally incompetent, at least in my case.

My sister, a nurse, says that the shrink should be shot.

Enough of this. The shrink started throwing one anti-depressant after another at me. None of them worked (he didn't really wait for any of them to take effect.) Meanwhile, the therapist didn't have a clue what she was doing or what I was dealing with.

I was on lithium for one day.  My husband said I was a zombie. It just so happened that I had a routine appointment with my gynecologist (he delivered two of my children) that day. A very kind man, he was, apparently, shocked to see me in the lithium-induced state.

After talking to him for five minutes, he told me I needed electroshock (ECT) treatment right away.

I was shocked. The shrink had never recommended that. Why not, I wondered.  I called the shrink and told him what my doctor had said.

"I agree with him," said the shrink. "I think we should go that route."

When family members talk to me about what happened next, they get angry. At me. At my husband. At the shrink.

He told me that I should check myself into a first-class hospital in Westchester County. He told me that the hospital had a fine reputation for treating depression. And doing ECT.

Against the wishes of all my family members, I had my husband (who was desperate as I was) drive me to the hospital. I was full of hope, but soon, I was filled with terror. It started when they took all of my possessions away from me. It continued as they led me to my room, shared with another woman.

What had I done? It was Friday night and I wanted out right away. But the rule was, once you were in, you were there for no less than 72 hours.

I won't bore you with the details. I have blocked most of them out.

On Monday, I called my therapist -- who is also a nurse practitioner -- and told her what was going on. She was angry when I said I wanted to leave. The hospital staff was recommending I try an older antidepressant called Nortryptoline.  But she said I would need regular blood tests and she wasn't prepared to do them.

Finally, my husband came to pick me up. I was as low as I have ever been.

When I think about the next few weeks, it's all a blur.  I will cut to the chase: I checked myself into another Albany, New York-area hospital where I remained for two weeks. There I had six ECT treatments. I remember them in great detail. Being wheeled into a hospital room. Lying down on the table. Having an IV -- the slow warm solution flowing into my arm. And then. Blam. I was out.

Six times. And I knew I had had enough. I wasn't sure that I was feeling any better but I couldn't stand the place any longer. I remember all of the morning sessions where we gathered as a group and considered how much progress we were making. I remember the nursing station where the staff was always pleasant. I remember that I couldn't go jogging, or even take a walk without a staff member (and other patients.) I remember walking in large groups for three meals a day. And having no appetite. I remember my husband visiting me every day (and it was a 45-minute drive one way!)

What I don't remember is any family members calling me. I am told now that I forgot and I believe it.

This is enough for today. But there is more to this story that I need to tell. From a perspective of being well and healing and dealing with the ups and downs of life.  My daughter shared with me an interesting phrase the other day: "Mom," she said, "sometimes you just have to sit with your shit."

And so, now I do.

But with medication, meditation, incredible therapy, daily journaling, love and gratitude, I am lifted toward Light!

Gina X is a writer living in Egremont, Massachusetts.

Strange Coincidence As We Sell Our House!

Some people say that there is no such thing as a coincidence, implying a divine hand in what happens in the world. I am not entirely sure what I think, but I do know that I have experienced two strange coincidences in the last day.

First and foremost, our house. We've had it on the market since December, and yesterday we came to terms on a price with a buyer and signed the initial purchasing papers.  The date: July 7, 2015.

OK, so it was exactly 30 years ago to the day -- July 7, 1985 -- that my husband and I first saw the house! It was love at first sight. And the family coming (four children) couldn't be more excited about living here. As it stands now, we close October 1st, which again is the same day we closed 30 years ago.

So there you go, coincidence number one.

And just a few minutes ago, another. I was about to jump into the pond after my jog, and I noticed some bright orange flowers in the garden.  I went over to take a closer look. There were beautiful day lilies...and oddly enough there was another flower, exactly the same color, but not a lily. The leaves of the lily are long and slender, but the leaves of this other visiting flower are flat and lacy.

I am puzzled how these two flowers came to grow in exactly the same part of my garden. It's as if a painter used one color for the lilies and had some leftover orange and so decided to make them the same color.

How very very odd. Maybe God did have a hand in this. I am left wondering.

Tony Bennett and Lady Gaga Sizzle on Stage!

They make an amazing pair. There's the dapper Tony Bennett, his voice remarkable for age 88. And then there's the aptly-named Lady Gaga, the dazzling young diva whose stage presence is stunning.

They've teamed up to promote their new album, "Cheek to Cheek" on an international tour that started in Manhattan at Radio City Music Hall, where 6,000 fans showed up.  Last night, they performed to a sell-out crowd at Tanglewood -- it was the kind of show that backs up the highways leading into Lenox and the outdoor music hall. It was almost impossible to tiptoe through the lawn, as nearly every inch of grass was occupied by blankets, coolers, chairs and tables.

There's good reason for the crowds. As one Huffington post writer said, "The pair is a blend of sparkle and subtle; they giggle and snuggle, flirting and flitting, posing and prancing."

The curious thing was that I preferred those jazz standards that Bennett performed solo! He sang with the same richness of voice so many oldies -- among them "I Left My Heart in San Francisco" and "Smile" and "I've Got the World on a String."

To be sure, the couple did a fabulous performance of "The Lady is a Tramp," and Gaga stunned everyone with her rendition of "La Vie en Rose."

Each time Gaga appeared on stage she wore a different glittery costume; some of the more risqué featured feathered boas over something scanty underneath.

The show was a feast for the eyes and the ears; supporting the duo was a fine jazz band which included a marvelous piano, guitar, saxophone and bass. Add the dizzying pink, purple and blue stage lights and you have one awesome musical and visual feast.

Yes, it took forever to get out of the parking lot. But that's OK, because it's not often we get the chance to experience a show that sizzles like this one!

Impossible Blossoms

You wait all year to see them blossom
and when they finally do
you stare at the petals and peer closely inside
you smile at them because they are so delightfully alive
you photograph them, the same way you do each year
and then after a few minutes this thought arises:
they are impossible to take in.
Maybe because they shrivel after one day.
Or maybe because that's just the way things are.
You can't make anything last. But that's OK.
The lilies make me believe that there is a supremely powerful
energy in the universe and thankfully some of it blooms as flowers

White Rose

Bernie Sanders' Grassroots Campaign is Gaining Ground!!

            When I first heard that Vermont Senator Bernie Sanders had thrown his hat into the political ring to run for President, I was skeptical. His progressive (or Socialist) politics would sideline him, I figured, and he wasn’t going to make a dent in Hilary Clinton’s well-funded campaign.

            But ever since he launched his May 26^th campaign with a rousing speech to a crowd of 5,000, he and his grassroots positions have fired up my imagination. He speaks with a wonderful authenticity, which is so rare these days. He focuses too on a wide range of positions that matter to me and so many other Americans. One of those issues is the growing gap between America’s very very rich and the poor. Sanders also highlights the disappearing middle class, pointing out that median family income is almost $5,000 less today than it was in 1999.

           

In his kickoff speech, Sanders presented his positions on a full plate of progressive issues: the desperate need for well-paying jobs, raising the minimum wage, tax and campaign finance reform,      tackling climate change, and a host of other issues.  

“Today, with your support and the support of millions of people throughout this country, we begin a political revolution to transform our country economically, politically, socially and environmentally.

“Today, we stand here and say loudly and clearly that; ‘Enough is enough’. This great nation and its government belong to all of the people, and not to a handful of billionaires, their Super-PACs and their lobbyists. Brothers and sisters: Now is not the time for thinking small. Now is not the time for the same old – same old establishment politics and stale inside-the-beltway ideas.” 

Realistically, Sanders’ campaign doesn’t have much of a chance of blocking Hilary from the Democratic nomination.

But he is doing a great service in pulling the debate toward the left, providing refreshing and revolutionary positions on the issues that matter to most Americans. He is also attracting lots of young voters: my husband Richard Kirsch, a political observer, says “it’s remarkable to see these Millennials fired up about Sanders, particularly because he is even older than Hilary.”

Meanwhile, this week’s issue of The Nation points out that a recent national poll saw Sanders’ support jump from 4 percent to 15 percent in two months, meaning he is a leading rival to Clinton. The Nation points out that “grassroots Democrats are flocking to Sanders.”

The question now is how will Hilary respond? 

I am looking forward to the debates!

            

Black Bear Meet Red Bird

It occurred to me as I was driving home a few minutes ago that the red bird and the black bear have something in common. They appeared in almost exactly the same spot outside the house.

The bird is in the window,

and the bear was about two feet away, at the front door! (White old fashioned screen.)

Hmmmmmmm.

Thanks to all my friends who have offered very solid advice on how to get rid of the red bird.

Of course, ever since I did the blog post, the red bird has been nowhere to be seen!

That can't be...a bear?

Living where we do, in a rural area surrounded by sparsely inhabited hills, we've had bear sightings before.

But none like last night.

We were eating a quiet dinner when I turned my head and there, right beside the window, was a huge black bear with a brown snout.

He must have been five or six feet long, from nose tip to tail, and three feet in girth.

We jumped up from the table and scrambled to get the camera. By the time we were shooting, he was lumbering around the side of the house and headed for our front porch. He climbed up the stairs and peered in through the screening

we have on the window, and then he got bored and went back down the stairs.

Soon he was headed for the driveway, or the compost or the garage.

We have a very tiny dog named Poco and I was grateful at that moment that she was sitting comfortably in the house, unfazed by our excitement.

"We can't let her out on her own anymore," I said to my husband.

"Don't be silly, the bear is gone."

"Ah, but will he come back?

"Bears don't eat dogs!"

So I looked it up. The state of Connecticut, which has plenty of bear sightings, says that bears "rarely" bother cats and dogs. I'm not sure I like the word rarely.

It took me the whole evening to settle my nerves.  And it's going to take me a lot longer before I let Poco out to play without following her around the yard.

Go Away Red Bird, Please!

It isn't fun or funny anymore. I am not sure what to do about it!

I'm talking about that red cardinal

who at this very moment is knocking on my window.

He's there every single day, tapping and tapping away. Sometimes he flutters up, wings extended, and then he crashes his body against the glass as if he's trying to bust through it!

What the hay is up with this bird? It feels like aviary harassment.

Some people tell me that he is seeing his reflection in the glass. But today it's rainy, how could he possibly see anything in the glass when it is so grey outside?

It's gotten so I am not able to concentrate on meditating.

Maybe he's trying to communicate something. Or maybe he isn't really a bird, but some kind of spirit trapped in a bird's body. It's really kind of spooky.

Whatever it is, please God, please let him stop!