Content: Self image. Sexual abuse w/ frank speech at times. Discussion of the mother forcing a gender role for the purpose of abuse, hatred of men, degrading women, the mother's sexuality. It's a heavy entry, one difficult to write.
We started off going over art pieces in my sketchbook. We talked about which color I've used most and changes in how I depict figures. One art piece not posted was drawn to signify how pervasive sexual abuse was in most aspects of my young life.
Dr. D asked why I add heavy markings below the eyes. I said its all about color significance and my own symbolism. (see art therapy gallery) When I put blue under the eyes I'm trying to say that no matter what I'm going through or how negative I feel about myself, I understand on a different level that these thoughts are based on lies. I'm able to better see that my self image isn't based on reality but abuses as a youth and young adult. ...continue reading "Therapy Review: Identity. Gender. The Mother’s Sexuality"
Spark: Fire and Water now has a wall of its own. Soon it will be safely packaged up and sent on its journey.
Spark: Fire and Water is an art journal, two page spread that was offered in my Etsy shop.
Sparks of color fly as her eyes open wide to take in and hold all that grows around her. A signature of Sundrip is to have many hidden faces and objects that are seemingly random. This journal piece most certainly has the Sundrip signature along with bold chaos in color.
What will you see in this raw, collage art? You will see fragmented flowers, hair like waves of the sea, a blue girl. You'll see lines cross, curve and circle around holding tiny human figures. Crosshatch and stripes meet checkers and poles, then bring your eye back to the girl in the middle with doodles on her lips.
It occurred to me that when abuse is reported the concerned person is saying that the person being abused doesn't deserve it.
The one who reports abuse is saying, this is unjust and I'm not going to sit by and let this happen.
The one reporting abuse offers their strength to the abused and offers their voice because they recognize vulnerability.
Even when done anonymous, it takes a healthy conscience and inner strength to report abuse. My mother had neither.
I understand why my mother never reported accounts of abuse we shared with her in strict detail. She never saw those kids as living beings with the universal right to safety and peace. She didn't recognize their worth. My mother probably never expected anyone to go to bat for me. How sorely she underestimated the worth of her children, too.
I honestly didn't expect to survive her, but I did. Most days I'm happy I did because there's so much more to see and do.
These are recent entries in my personal sketchbook. They're mindscapes - an artists version of a CAT scan.
I've done my best to toss out the notion that I must create something beautiful. I have to stop feeling as if I must please viewers with a masterpiece or outdo myself. I have to stop thinking and let myself paint. It's been a challenge but I'm getting better.
Mindscape – 40 years in the wilderness
Mindscape – Divide and Conquer
Mindscape – The compass 1
Mindscape – The compass 2
watercolor sunflower page
watercolor sunflower page
These are photographs. When I take them out of the sketchbook I'll scan them then put them on the working wall (the wall that holds all current projects) so I can grab and do more whenever I am able.
There is no update on the eviction threat or my sister. There's a temporary resolution to lack of transportation to see my therapist.
As always, I think of my sister every single day, just not every single second of every day.
I realize I focus on my brother's death more than my mother's. It reminds me very much of being a child who felt it was too dangerous to be angry with the abuser so she chose the safest route of blame and anger.
I can't touch my mother's dramatic exit without trembling. At least there are words to describe how I feel about my brother. I wasn't prepared for the changes his death would make in my life, but I'm not short on words, not by far. I could easily fill the heart of a violin telling him how it feels to be left this way. ...continue reading "Do Not Betray Your Sister"
I told Dr. D that I realize I don't trust as fluidly since my brother died.
There is a sense of betrayal by him because of committing suicide.
I vomited out my heart the day he died.
We talked about getting some old violin so I can write him letters and put notes in there about things I remember we did together, about when he discovered he was HIV positive and when he picked up and left the state, did his thing with music, went to Spain, went back home to New York and died. There's a lot I'd like to write and put inside the heart of those strings.
My favorite instrument is the cello. I'm a strings girl. He was a violinist.
I want to tell him I was at his recital when he was 15. He gave it at the Children's Museum here in Indy.
I want to tell him I'm proud of him for not accepting that a man with large hands can't play the violin. He grew to 6'5. When he began to struggle he hired a man to help him learn to play at his size. He loved the violin and he was bound and determined to play and play well.
Heartbeat is in my sketchbook. She's 7 x 10 in ink and pencil. I'm going to have her enlarged before further work. Her heartbeat comes from her temples and stretches out to form the surface of the earth. Trees and flowers grow from her heartbeat.
She Realizes Her Totality
This is a half sheet pencil drawing with the same lines at the temples only the heartbeat lines go down and the face is divided. This piece is in my private sketchbook. I want a little bit of color on her but I don't want to do her in full color. I want it to be watercolor and to get it right I'm going to have to practice which means getting her printed so I can practice on something other than the original drawing.
Today's therapy discussion focused on family matters: mother's thorough brainwashing and effective divisive tactics, scapegoating, emotional boundaries between myself and all birth family and a recap of nightmares from a few days back. After writing this entry I was reminded of the paintings "Resilience Tree," so I included them in the entry.
I was awake all night and until around 10:30 this morning. I had my session to go over the graphically violent and blood dream about cannibals and going to a psychiatric prison for the mentally insane because I was guilty of murdering my child self, the inner child of my sister and the inner child of my brother. I'll pick up more on that topic later.
We talked about the complete lack of protection from my mother: physical, emotional and spiritual responsibilities were ignored or out right withheld.