The Butterfly Wrestler

I made this journal over the weekend. It is a Mary Cassatt pastel from a 1989 Sotheby's Catalogue. I made a copy on sticker paper and attached it to a compostition book. I started mapping out a train trip on an Acela train. Going from Boston, Philadelphia and New York. It ended up being way beyond my means. I kept scrolling different Museums and writing down addresses etc. When I went back to facebook. A class came up for the Barnes in Philadelphia. I read it was two young woman curators for the Exhibit at Philadelphia Museum of Art. It was Tuesday Nights in June. I thought this would be perfect, and I wouldn't have the cost of travel. The class was $199. I gave it a lot of thought. And, then noticed there was a scholarship. I would just have to apply at no cost. While I was going through the news of having cancer, I also recieved an answer to an application for a fellowship. I applied at the end of March, and it would have been two weeks at an Artist Residen

I had a good doctors appointment on Friday. But, still felt the need for more rest. And, by Monday morning, I flew the coop. Now, I am ready to get back to work and get back to living life again. It is hard for me to press a pause button, and just rest. I am totally going with how I feel. And, now I am happy to start focusing on something other then myself. I decided to focus on Mary Cassatt, an independent artist who worked more then one hundred years ago. I learned so much about her over the weekend. But, yesterday's exhibit at the Philadelphia Museum of Art was a feast. The first time I saw her paintings was at the National Gallery of Art in Washington DC in 1983. I had not studied Art, yet. I would buy 5 postcards of my favorite paintings. And, I remember thinking I wasn't surprised it was a woman Artist. By the end of the 80's I got my degree in Art, and realized how astounding that was. Also, revisiting the National Gallery in 1989, and really looking t

My friends sing the prettiest songs. I still can't believe my college friend Liz was here to share one my proudest days with me, yesterday. As we walked into the exhibit I mentioned one of my favorite pieces, was exhibited next to mine. Then we were on line to grab a bite to eat. The person in front of me introduced herself as the maker of my favorite. So, I was able to ask if that was a song the words: "The Littlest Birds" sing the prettiest songs". She said it was. I listened to it this morning and will share it as the song of the day. The timing of this program Music Heals, for me spans from January until now. I dug deep reading three books: Suleika Jaouad's Between Two Kingdoms, Jonathan Biss's book on his relationship with playing Beethoven and Adam Haslett's book Imagine Me Gone. The subject matter was deep and spanned dealing with Cancer, Anxiety and family relationships with mental illness. But, the timing is what I can not get over

I am still processing what I have been through. When I went to the doctor last Monday, I felt the release of the good news. The stiches came out. And, I was still in my head, when the doctor said I shouldn't go back to work on Memorial Day weekend. I LOVE this little job I have. But, it is not the money. It is getting together each week with some of the nicest people I have ever met. It is the beauty of the setting, the wedding we are celebrating, it is the flowers, the shine of the champagne glasses, the string quartet playing love songs, the sound of a champagne cork popping, it is the taste of the food eaten family style with my co-workers and on and on. It is basically a celebration of love and life. It took me a few days of still feeling the sting of my wounds. But, on Wednesday I finally put the thought of going back to work to rest until mid-June. Then, yesterday I finally cancelled my plans to go to Maryland this weekend to celebrate Mother's day with my gran

You can win. What does this mean? It was said by John Batiste last night at the Count Basie. To me, this picture shows I can win. And, it is as easy as just being me. Last year, I bought this Monarch Butterfly patch and sewed it on the pocket of an April Cornell Artist Smock. Little did I know it would be used to hold a drain. I still can't believe I have known I have had cancer for a month, now. I get the stiches and the drain out today. And....MAYBE I will be told about the biopsies of my lymph nodes, today. But, here I am happy because I was all prepared (like a girl scout) to be able to hide my drains to go see Jon Batiste. And, hear him play the most beautiful song ever written called Butterfly. The timing, the venue ( I saw Bruce Springsteen in the same theatre when I was 17). He was genuinely happy to be sharing Mother's Day with us. He is magic. I love his style and the way he dresses. It is like he is growing so fast, his suits can't keep up with him

The most disappointment I felt, since I had my surgery, was on Thursday. I found out I couldn't get the two drains out by the weekend. A very special weekend including Mother's Day. But, again always looking at the bright side. I was able to be excused from Jury Duty on Monday. As much as I am looking forward to getting rid of the drains and stitches. I am not looking forward to the pain it is going cause when they come out. I can NOT believe I am sharing this picture of me. But, when I was processing the ideal of having the drains the next few days. I tried imagining all of my button down shirts. It did not take long to realize I had the most perfect solution. When I was leaving the hospital the nurse safety pinned the drains on my shirt. Complimenting how pretty my April Cornell top was. It always has felt good how many compliments I would recieve wearing her clothing. When I was purging my wardrobe it didn't feel good all of the beautiful clothes I was sel

Well, golly gee!!! how lucky can I be? I get to write again about how resillient and strong I can be!!!! Sounds pretty sarcastic, but it really is not. I am just as surprised as you are going to be when you read what I have just been through. A year ago I noticed a strange pain in my arm. I looked at my back to see if there was anything unusual. And, there was a growth, I never saw before. And, through the weeks and months to follow, it would bleed. I didn't know whether the black it was turning was a scab or something to worry about. Since, I am on this journey of not letting my worry and concern overcome my way of thinking. I just went with the thought of getting myself together financially after leaving my job. I filled out forms. I applied for anything and everything to make sure I was financially secure. When January came around I knew my focus became about getting health insurance and filling out those forms. And, then waiting for a reply. By, March I had insuran

So happy I have great influences in my life story. And, I have been going through some big changes. I still want to write my story. But, I am changing my approach. This morning I wanted to write about a flower I have never grown before it is called a Columbine. I took a blossom to press when I first planted it. I felt really bad about cutting off this bloom. But, then on Good Friday I walked out the door to see all of its blossoms gone. A deer must have eaten it. I then opened the flower press about a week later. I was so thankful it pressed really well. I used it to decopauge a fan I will be selling. I love making these fans from dried pressed flowers from my garden. This morning I wanted to write more about my experience with my columbine flower. I didn't remember that it is a perennial. And, now I have hopes it will come back next year. But, it came back. And, I quickly took another one to press. Then there are still a couple about to bloom. When one opened