Summer will bring kids and their parents to my home which means tea and more tea with painting and more painting plus some history tossed in.
Depending on the country, the ceremony or party, the kids use traditional cups dated as late as the 1940's. My number of countries represented in tea is down to 38 countries because my Kenyan Ceylon container is empty. It's on my list of must have. We've got so many good stores around here but I can't seem to find one that will order this tea for me. I want the loose leaf by Safari.
I let the kids use vintage and antique cups without worrying too much about them breaking but I went ahead and retired my English rose tea pot. I'm a bit more protective of that one. No one uses my daily tea pot either. I'm even more protective of it. I don't fret a lot about the cups being broken but I do expect all to use them respectfully. If one should break then it'll do well as a planter and I can go to Goodwill and search for a replacement. Goodwill is where many online shops get their tea cups for which they charge exorbitant prices.
That's a better title than this entry is going to be. Don't get your hopes up. This is an ah ha moment entry on my ....... yes........ my French studies. lol
Yeah, it was that bad. It was a total fail but I realized something, I only heard a limited number of people speak this language and hardly ever could I distinguish a single word. What happened was that I had a closed view of what French sounds like. In other words, I had a bias.
The language I heard is what I called ugly. There was no beauty in the sounds, no grace in the words and therefore no life could be heard...... ah but then things changed. I know I said I'd pick up Spanish after the great French train wreck and epic fail but I can't let myself do it.
While wallowing in life issues not related to schooling, I binge watched Hercule Poirot and I actually HEARD beautiful French. The thing is, I've seen all those before. There's nothing new except for how open my ears were to hearing what was said. I'd never heard the language sound 'beautiful' because I've always passed it off as ugly. Before people get too mad, consider how many people say German isn't a beautiful language. I say it is. It's all in how our bias lets us hear it or not hear it.
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.
Content: Suicide, strong emotion. This entry may not be considered politically correct. Comments and likes are off.
I slept well and hoped to have a better day but my head is still spinning, this time with anger.
As much as I don't want to see things go in the direction, they're going, I can't do anything about it. I have zero ability to contact her now. Showing up to where she used to work or anything like that is a terrible idea. Seeing the face of someone she hates isn't going to make her change her mind. The more I think about it, the more upset I am. I think it's cruel to watch and count down and not be able to do a single, solitary thing. The truth is, if she wants to, she's going to. Can someone else talk to her, they have, repeatedly and she's made up her mind. She left and is no longer answering calls. No response to anyone, at all. SHE HAS A THERAPIST !!!!!!
I was nervous, again. Dr. D said it's normal for a person to feel some anxiety when going to a session, even when they've been in treatment a long time. We talked about the Passion Flower tincture I made and how effective it is. I keep forgetting to take it though. I still scribble to ease anxiety.
We talked about the two dreams and what I think they might mean. I told him that the dream where I was on the outside of the car while my mother and sister were inside reminds me of how I usually felt like an outsider in that family. I hated them for what they did and said. I hated secrets, most of all I didn't keep to the rules of Master and servant the way my sister did. After paying severely for running my mouth one would think I'd learn to keep it closed but nope. Sometimes I was annoyed or out right disgusted by their pretense and let it show on my face or I rolled my eyes and said, "Oh please!" I paid for it. I understand that death in dreams isn't always negative. In this case we all three died after recklessness by my mother. Recently the 'death' of hope that my sister and I will ever be anything other than relatives has settled in. That death means life without hoping in ghosts.
He saw my frustration lead to growling and hitting myself in the head. It happened so fast and resulted in embarrassment. He didn't say a word. He acted like nothing happened.
I kept trying to talk to the man who watched me hit myself in the head then switch personalities back to an older version of me. I watched this take place as if I were hovering above myself just a little bit. I wanted to talk to him and try to understand. I wanted to hear his words as more than gibberish but it wasn't working, they stopped 5 inches from my face. I looked at him through fog and then started rocking. It took quite a bit to get grounded enough to understand what he was saying. It's just not been a good head day.
I'm going to take some Passion Flower tincture and go to sleep. My tincture turned out really well.
I brushed Jane. I didn't eat. I answered the phone twice but other than that I just didn't want contact with anyone.
I was talking on the phone to a friend in Punjab who thought it was absolutely hilarious and absurd that Jehovah's Witnesses are labeled extremists in Russia. He's not a witness but he too can see that this is simply absurd. No, we don't slap people with Watchtowers!
I made hot chocolate. I found the good kind at Kroger. I'm going to get more. I see Snow Thursday and Friday.
I'm overwhelmed by bills right now. It's funny because I don't have bills, that's something others have but now I've got bills and I feel the weight of them on my shoulders. What's interesting is that it's around $150 but it's in 4 different locations which feels like a lot to a person who takes great care to live within her means. ...continue reading →
I've fallen behind on my studies. I'm struggling with French because I simply don't like the language. We have a lot of people from French speaking African countries in this area. It's just that I can't seem to put my heart into it. I think maybe I need to understand that it's not about me but about helping others and so my attitude about the language may need to be re-examined.
In a way it could be beautiful because its the language of my grandfather's country. I felt my head get dizzy when I said that.
I could have chosen a number of other languages. It's funny, German has always, always been a language close to my heart. That too is a language in my family, on both sides. When I hear that language my heart wakes up yet, there is no true need in that field in my area. There are no German speaking individuals who have moved here seeking refuge from whatever they have suffered.
I'm still working with different types of abstract. I did this while watching a video. I like the loose colors.
I've also been working with my palette knives but I thought it best to work in gesso for texture then add color over it later if desired. I've got a full gallon on gesso which I love working with.
Art Title: Abstract Hummingbird Art by: Faith Magdalene Austin Media: Watercolor on 98lb artists paper Size: 5.5 x 8.5 Finish: unsealed, signed on the front and back, unmounted Style: Abstract, Nature
I've got an art sale going on for the Fang Fund, for Mary Jane's much needed dental work. Use the following code at check out. If you desire to use PayPal instead of Etsy please let me know and I'll create an invoice with the discount. All contact information is on the sidebar.
*** SALE --------- FangFund16 coupon code 35% off --------- SALE ***
Funds needed for her dental work started off at $250. The need is now $159.00. Thank you for your donations and purchases that stay in PayPal until all is raised to meet her need, then I'll stop begging. You can fully expect more intense begging as March draws near. I'm watching my baby in pain and it's difficult. I swear that's not a guilt trip, it's just the truth, I'm watching this girl hurt and there's not a darn thing I can do about it....other than paint and paint is what I'm doing. ...continue reading →
Each year I try to set a goal to work on life upgrades. I've set creative goals for 2017 (found on the sidebar) and I've set goals for therapy (on the side bar). One goal is to speak more kindly to myself; control my tendency for self-deprecation. I'm going to continue one of last years goals which is to improve my communication skills by not being so dogmatic and being able to listen to hear instead of listen to respond. Those goals don't scare me nearly as much as the third which is to take steps in to ease my fear of water. It's a complicated fear though. It's PTSD and OCD wrapped together which makes a nasty little package.
It's difficult to take a shower, harder to take a bath but once I'm in there I'm okay with the water but the OCD takes over and I'm ready to get the heck out of there. I've showered with the lights off and filled the room with enough lavender to cause sinus combustion. Washing the dishes is difficult because I can't stand the water. I will not wash anything with chocolate on it. I hate red sauces on pans and cups. I just walk away from it. I changed my cooking ware to stuff that lets food slip right off it so I don't have to see browns or reds. I got gloves at one point and closed my eyes. I've tried several things to get my dishes washed.
Speak kindly to yourself. Don't be your own abuser. If you wouldn't allow others to speak to you this way, why do it to yourself?
Today I gathered a pad and paper along with my study materials. When I settled in to study I couldn't find my pen and immediately I began to berate myself. "You're kidding. You've lost the pen already? This is ridiculous. So stupid." ...Then I stopped. I stopped right there....
Using words that belittle myself don't leave just a single wound. There are the emotions that come with it. I couldn't do anything right. I was stupid for losing the pen and that made me unreliable and unable to do anything right. My stomach felt heavy, my head felt heavy. With just a few sentences I managed to inflict several wounds. This will be an interesting endeavor as I learn to speak kindly to myself.