New Little Frog Friends

I ordered two Tomato Frogs and received them today. Yesterday I didn’t care that these babies were on the way but now that they’re here I’m thrilled.

These two are about 2 months old and are both male. I wasn’t sure what to name them but I got suggestions from two people I’ve known for some time now. ☺. So I’d like to introduce Heinz and Forrest Austin. I would have said “Forrest Austin of Sundrip Journals” but it feels like a little too much. 😂

I wanted to get close ups of both but I don’t want to pick them up right now. They’re so fragile and I could easily transfer harmful oils and such to their rather delicate skin, so I’ve only got photos of one.

This little guy is so active, just picking off isopods and springtails, left and right.

He’s been around the terrarium a few times and is doing just great. His brother Forrest is more shy on his first night. Hopefully I can get some shots of him later.

I’ve still got my 4 Australian Tree Frogs in their terrarium. They’re doing great, too.

Of course Joe Schmoe is here, too. He’s gotten so very loving. He makes me smile. Such a good guy.

Although I hoped for a female frog of some kind, any kind at all, it appears I’ve got 7 sons. 🐸

Faith

Posted in Art

Dignity in sickness and in health

Content – Death of baby while in the ER. Talk about crying but that’s all.

I was piddling around when suddenly I had to use the restroom. I knew when the feeling came on that I had seconds to get to the there so I raced, but didn’t make it.

This is the life of an amputee. I fall out of the chair or I can’t get there fast enough and wet myself as I fall while trying to transfer to the toilet. It’s crazy!

After not making it and getting cleaned up, I was very tired. I realized I only had one sock on but I was too tired to put on the other or take the one I had off, so I left one off and one on.

As I sat in the chair I began to sweat profusely and to feel nauseated to the point of throwing up. Then I started having a hard time breathing. Inhalers weren’t working. I couldn’t breathe. I hit the Life Alert button on the floor.

What felt like 15 minutes later, the ambulance showed up. Four extra people pushed their way into my space and for some reason it scared me. I didn’t understand why I was afraid AND starting to become combative, but I was.

One of the EMT’s asked why it’s so hot in the apartment. He also said it was extremely humid, too humid for my plants, terrariums, cat and me, he said. He said I was even hot to the touch.

After I got to the hospital they discovered I have an issue with my heart because of chronic dehydration. They didn’t make any conclusions about my breathing problems. No more blood clots though.

They wanted to take a CT scan of my head and chest, which I have done a million times. I got in there, laid down and proceeded to freak out! I said, let me up! The lady rushed to me and said, “What is it? Can you tell me what you’re feeling?” I said, “Rage and fear! Let me up NOW! So I was given Vistaril (glorified benadryl) to relax. About 30 minutes later I took the test and it came back clear. I couldn’t believe how I responded the first time.

The nurses had a hard time getting the IV in bc of dehydrated veins. They stuck me 5 times. My blood kept coagulating too fast while trying to take it. Seems my blood disorder is alive and well.

As I was having my blood drawn a woman in the ER started to cry. It was a gut wrenching cry, the cry that says a child has died. The patients were all crying with her. It was horrible. She cried and cried then screamed, “My baby! My baby!”…… Oh man! I well-up now just think about it.

When she first started crying I asked the nurse if he understood what he was hearing. He said yes, I just heard my own soul break…..

I cried so hard. I mean I wept right there, openly. There is no greater loss or grief than the loss of a child, none.

At that time several ambulances pulled in bc the closest hospital was closed to new people because of ransom ware. People were being placed in the hallway and in any cubby hole they could fit in.

Twelve hours after arriving I was going to be discharged to my Hematologist’s office for further care, but I had to use the restroom before leaving. I told them about my bladder damage but it still took 10 minutes to get to me. I wheeled to the restroom and about 15 seconds before I got to the door, I wet on myself, soaking my clothing. I changed into 2 gowns but was too tired from everything to get those horrid yellow hospital socks back on my feet. I sat double gowned with a bright yellow sock dangling from my amputated foot. I thought to myself, I might have to go back to wearing depends. Sigh.

I just want dignity. Going to the hospital this time was rather humiliating. Leaving in 2 gowns because I wet myself was humiliating. This prompted the painting of a child holding on to a white balloon in the midst of darkness. There are several faces in the dark and a shadow figure to the right and the bottom.

“White Balloon” is in acrylic on paper and is about 5 inches tall. It’s a baby painting with a big message: I’m trying to hold on to and protect my inner peace but everything around me wants a bite.

Faith

Sketch Crazy

The critique

I’ve been sketching and painting away anxiety. Anxiety has been so high lately but at least I have something to show for it.

Honestly, I’ve messed up more new art than I’ve completed but man it feels good to paint. What a release. I even did a finger painting. Hopefully I can get some images up here soon.

Faith

Half a Century More

I started this little painting back in October of last year but I just now finished it. It looks so much better in person than the terrible photograph. This 7×10 watercolor piece has a lot of numbers on it. The numbers are ages that were very significant to me with age 47 being the last significant age on the painting.

The painting shows a young girl who divides the paper. She’s a young me with a split face depicting multiple personalities. Though I don’t know the exact age I split, I’m sure I was fully a multiple by the age of nine. I have a few symbols in the painting like a peanut and a purple butterfly as well as a wheelchair with a sunflower instead of a wheel.

One of the most significant things about this painting is the tree. It is bare on one side and full of colorful leaves on the other. Though they’re fall leaves that are technically dying, the point was to have colorful and lively leaves like seen in the Fall, which happens to be my favorite season.

I call the painting Half a Century More because of what a friend said to me jokingly the other day. I told her I’m about to turn 50 and she said, “Oh, you’re going to be half a century old.” Well I tell you I was floored!!! Wow. Do you have to put it that way? It took a few days to kind of get settled with it but now I think to myself, I’ve lived a half century but I’d like to live a half century more. I’d like to have a lot more art to paint, dolls to sew and days to figure out how to be happiest.

I won’t be 50 until August but I’m so, so exited I can’t stand it. I honestly never expected to see that number. For many reasons I didn’t expect to be here but half a century on and I’m still kicking!

Faith

Paranoia Art

When I was young my mother used to tell me quite often that a person was trying to punish her for a perceived slight. She constantly accused my sister and myself of stealing money from her purse even though neither of us had done so. I didn’t realize then it was paranoia but now I see her behavior so clearly that it frightens me.

As she got older her paranoia got even worse. She feared I was trying to kill her, feared my sister had conspired with me to kill her, so on and so forth. She trusted no one but her baby sister, no one.

I fear being like her in this way. I have recently had bouts with paranoia, nothing like she had, but paranoia nonetheless. I don’t fear people are watching me or trying to kill me. I just watch everything because I don’t trust much. I then become obsesses with matters until I exhaust my mind.

My paranoia worries me. My obsessions worry me. I hope that I’d accept medication and treatment if things got to the point of how they were with my mother.

This 7×10 piece was drawn then painted in watercolor in my art journal pad. It shows a young girl (me) with her eyes closed and an unreal world swirling around her. Her body twists into a background of watching eyes that trust nothing.

Faith

It’s Friday!

Ah yes. It’s Friday. There will be popcorn and beer, art and music. Let’s get this party started!

Me, looking unmotivated

The studio shelves are stocked with supplies. I’m ready to go. I’ve been working on a small piece for a few weeks now and I’m past ready to finish it.

It’s been a week of high anxiety and OCD symptoms but I’d like to put all that behind me and just have a little fun. So that is what I’m going to do.

Faith

Lola – Queen of Sorrows

Lola

She accurately represents how I feel often. I wish I could say that I’m okay and that life is good. I mean really, complaints should be few but in general I’m not a happy person.

I named her Lola because in some languages it means Our Lady of Sorrows. It seemed so appropriate.

Lola is my third handmade sad doll. I made her with real hair this time instead of yarn. I really like the look. Lola is in my personal collection and sits where I can see her each day.

Some have described her eyes as knowing and with a story to tell. I just think they look wide and sad, much like my eyes as a child.

I made Lola a little sister named Victoria aka Victory. She’s not a sad doll. As a matter of fact, she’s a doll that is at peace. She’s not grinning but she is full of life and innocent. Victory is also in my private collection.

Victory

Now comes Grace. Grace was to be the 4th sad doll but she ended up not looking so sad. I like little Grace.

Grace

I like her wine colored dress and the bow in her hair (not shown in the photo). She’s wearing a second-hand Gloria Vanderbilt dress. I couldn’t believe I found that little tiny dress. It’s just adorable. I added a small heart button and put the tiniest, little gold details on it, not much though. The dress is simple which is what I like about it. I added a small piece of gold hair jewelry to her long, braided, yarn hair. Little Grace will be going home with my new nurse’s aide next week.

So while I deal with some sadness and depression right now, I’m out here making dolls and doing my best to manage life.

Faith