Category: Children

A History of Eyes on Me

Posted on by Faith

Content: Abuse. Being watched by abusers. Sadism.

Publishing this art piece comes at an odd time seeing as how I just talked about store workers profiling and following me and my caregiver at the store. It’s also not concerning imaginary audience / fable but an all together different type of being watched.

I was never sure why my mother was watching me. I was more concerned by her method of watching me. Although I know she watched me and my sister around the second grade, my most vivid memories are the 4th grade when she wore her trench coat and stood behind the door motionlessly.

The coat was her regular coat. It was a black trench coat. When the lights were out we couldn’t see her, nor were we looking for her. But if we saw a motionless figure in the hallway it scared the crap out of us. She’d make sure we’d seen her before walking away. No words. Just walks away.

After a little while I worked hard not to show I was afraid. I’d either say nothing or turn around to the door and say something to her. I had to guage how far I could go in pretending she didn’t scare me. I knew there was a response she was looking for. If I withheld that response too much, I might regret it. When being beaten with a dowel rod I knew I had to give the response she was looking for.

"She speaks the dream" - available

When being watched in the room alone, when showering or using the restroom there was a response she was looking for. I always wondered if there were times she wasn’t trying to get caught and see my reaction. This game of watching went on all the way to the day before I moved out. She listened to phone calls when we had a corded phone. I owned nothing, especially my body.

When I moved to Florida with my mother’s sister, my cousin and an uncle by marriage, I thought life was going to be good. He said he would treat me like his own daughter. That one sentence makes me want to break into tears. The irony of it is cruel.

Roses for Jane - available

My cousin was his step daughter. She endured more abuse than me. Having me dress up. Making crude comments. Watching me. If I turned around and saw him watching through the cracked door, he too would stay just a few seconds longer before quietly leaving.

I’ll be keeping A History of Eyes on Me a little while longer. It’s hanging in my own art area beside the painting She Speaks the Dream, which was created in 2017.

Observations – The painting called Roses for Jane was remade. In addition to more eyes, I brought out the figure in the back then made a dramatic leap by dividing the main figure in black and white. I kept quite a bit of the original twist and turns while softening her face by one notch. As a person who uses sunflowers for emotional expressions, it interests me that not a single flower is on the original piece or the new. The main figure is no longer standing in the dark.

Thank you for coming to Sundrip today.

Faith

Freedom. Up Hill Battle.

Posted on by Faith

I paid a heavy price in pain for a little bit of freedom from my wheelchair. I decided to walk about 100 feet up a ramp to my apartment. I needed to stand up at my normal 5 foot 3, and see the world from the angle I was accustom to.

The problem with walking outside is that I can’t feel the ground under me. With shoes on, I can’t feel the ground. It takes a lot of concentration. But today I needed freedom. I swear I feel like a caged animal willing to pay a high price to have someone open my cage and let me out.

The price I paid for about 100 feet is extreme pain in both hips. Both hips have avascular necrosis. I’m having terrible spasms. All of this just to stand up and walk for a little bit.

Was it worth the cost? Yes, for a few moments, walking in the sun, yeah it was worth this.

I’m in bed right now willing a slice of pizza hut over here. Lol It’s in the kitchen. Lol. But I’m writhing in pain. My legs hurt so badly, they’re squirming all over the bed down there. The pain is from the ankle up to the knee then both hips. I really want that pizza though lol.

My little walk reminds me very much of my little painting called Up Hill Battle. I guess sometimes the hill seems small to others but that doesn’t mean it’s not a battle for the person trying to climb it. We never know how much baggage a person is carrying, mental or physical pain. Even the slightest incline can be a struggle when the person walking is carrying a heavy load.

The miniature is complete. I gave it a nice seal yesterday. My intent is to have it in my shop this evening. If you don’t have an Etsy shop but there’s interest, you can send me an email. I accept PayPal. All contact info is on the sidebar.

I’ve been craving pizza for days. I really want that pizza in the kitchen but the price is a little high for me to get up and get it. I’ll use patience. I’ll rest then have pizza later.

It was still a nice day. I love outing day 🙂 Please let this CNA stay. I adore her.

Faith

Anxiety. Support. Long Haul.

Posted on by Faith

I bought a second sketchbook that’s small and easy to take with me if / when I leave the house. It’s also easier to hold in bed. And for the first time in a good long time, I had to buy art supplies. I was able to get ahold of the paint needed so I’m happy with that.

Right now I’m making the art supplies area more disability friendly.

Symptoms of the clinical depression (my nervous breakdown) significantly decreased but have crept up again. After my aide left, a person with whom I felt safe) abandonment issues began to derail me. At least this time I know better than to wait to see if the depression, anxiety, etc will get better. I immediately began using the skills I’ve learned in the last year so as to never revisit that horrible-for-everyone, deep, hollow place.

I remember thinking that everyone has an invisible line that represents a division between coping and totally losing it. It feel like as long as I don’t cross that line I’ve still got hope of getting better. Well I blew past that line and had no way on my own to get back. I couldn’t reach inside and pull up strength because I was hollow. There was nothing to pull from. I couldn’t even stop or control the emotions anymore. I felt stranded in the middle of the open sea.

I’m not where I was last time but some of the symptoms are troubling. The decline began shortly after being triggered by the loss of a CNA I felt safe with. Right now I am regrouping and using new skills so I don’t again completely fall to pieces.

I’m grateful for art. I can’t believe I did that mental health crisis with very little art. I had no way to redirect anxiety so it felt like it just sat inside eating away at me.

My included art piece shows individuals with solid black skin. I noticed the color of the shirts as being significant. The person who reflects my current state is wearing an orange shirt. I don’t think I’ve drawn my sister, me and my mother together in at least 5 years. This time it’s definitely all three of us, with me in the orange shirt with one foot and extra long arms.

When I looked at the chart created to record color significance, I could see a bit more into what I’m actually feeling. Come to find out, it’s very much representative of what’s going on in my life right now and what I’ve been thinking about.

The Art Therapy gallery explains color and symbol significance.

  • Orange: Fleeting courage or self doubt, ambiguity,
  • Purple: Self worth, pride
  • Black: Emptiness, vacant, does not exist, emotional death
  • Red: Strength, courage, empowered

My mother has been on my mind quite a bit because of my menopause symptoms. I remember seeing some of this as a kind.

I remember one winter my mother only wore a long, thin, black trench coat (it was the 80s ok) despite the fact that it was freezing cold. Several years later she had it so cold in the house that I wore a jogging suit to bed. Fast forward to 2022. The heat is still off. I had no idea menopause would be so life disruptive. My friend said her severe covid was easier than menopause. Wow.

Lastly, I did finish stealing the art piece but I’ve not put new art up for sale. I’m not certain I’m ready for that step just yet. I’m just going to keep at the art while working on emotional issues.

Faith

Uncertain Title – Work in progress

Posted on by Faith

Several years ago I painted two sisters on vacation. They were under the hot sun in summer dresses. There’s a whimsical feeling to it that makes me smile. But the painting / collage of the mother and two children in this entry, gives off an entirely different emotion for me.

When I look at the cropped painting below, I see a family that has traveled a very long distance. What drove her to walk across inhospitable terrain with children? What they are seeking must be worth the danger and inhospitable terrain. And then there’s still this question; Has the family successfully made the journey or do they have further to go?

The mother’s hair branches out like a tree while the hair of the children is circular. I see a difference in the expression of the children, too. The other thing I see is a family that’s held on to tradition for a long time.

I’d say the most striking part for me is the amount of movement, contrast and texture in the whole of the painting. The background itself could tell you it’s story, if only it knew where to start.

I really enjoy using parts of my own art as collage pieces. I use cut outs from art I did, but it didn’t work out. I keep a box of those art pieces so I can use it for something later. I’m working on two more collages in different stages of completion. I think collages speak to me right now, but that’s an entirely different blog entry 🙂

What should I name this piece? I have no idea at all. I’ll have to figure it out soon because this is a piece I don’t intend to keep.

Until soon,

Faith

An environment that fosters creativity

Posted on by Faith

It’s been a year since I finished a painting or started on a new doll but I feel like I’m at a place in my physical and emotional health to get to sewing again.

I look tired and I’ve got dark circles under my eyes but today was still a good day. This is the feeling that I lost with CNAs. Peace. I feel a measure of peace in my home again. I’m not emotionally healthy but I’ve still regained the peaceful, welcoming feeling in my home.

It’s been a good day

I believe one of the major blocks I had that kept me from creating much was the way I began to view the apartment. It started to feel more felt like a hospital than my home. Instead of feeling able and capable, I ended up in patient mode like in the hospital when I had no control over anything.

Another issue that I’m correcting is my lack of privacy. This efficiency apartment displays everything I own. I don’t like that so I made some changes to my furniture to gain more privacy. I honestly think when I’m better able to feel less on display and gain more peace at home that I’ll have taken a big step towards trusting my environment. When I feel I can trust again that is when some sort of painting will take place. Who knows what style of painting I’ll have. One should not have any expectations as to style.

Several times this week I came close to grabbing my sketch book but I couldn’t do it. The wall separating me from painting is weaker but still stands. Well, between surviving 2018 followed by Trumpism, Coronavirus, the recession, war and monkeypox, my ability to trust the moment got shattered. I’m happy to say it feels like I’m close to rebuilding an atmosphere conducive to creativity which includes sewing and painting. I’ve been working hard on building blocks so art can feel safe enough to happen.

I plan to be full swing into sewing even before the next ten days of bedrest ends. This will total 30 days on bed rest which has been torture.

In-home care is going very well. I feel secure with it. I know I’ll be able to have reliable help when I make messes. I also have two people to assist with getting items mailed out on time. I feel like I’ve done a lot of preparation….. and procrastination. lol

I’ve even narrowed down which days of the week I’m going to concentrate on sewing and days I’ll use for writing letters to elderly people. Basically I’m making sure I have what I need to succeed.

I refuse to make dolls in bed. I won’t lie, I’m up all the time. I’m going to steal an hour or so a few days a week and just return to bed after I’m done.

I’ve got back issues and a muscle spasm that stretches from the middle of my back all the way around to my navel. It feels like a belt. It’s stressing the bowel and bladder.

I’m on some strong meds and muscle relaxers 3x a day which means I’ll be sewing by hand at first. I don’t want a OUI – operating machinery under the influence of meds. lol Really though, I could get hurt so I’ll sew by hand until it’s safe enough to get on the machine.

You know what? My memory foam mattress remembers too much 🙂 Bed rest and memory foam are not friends. I’ve put an outline of my body in my memory foam mattress because of staying in it so long. lol…. I had to have my friend I call Mary Poppins aka Mary to turn my mattress around so I can put a body outline in the other side. lol Thank goodness it’s just a twin bed. It’s not terribly heavy to turn to the other side.

Anyway… as far as the type of dolls I’ll create, I’ve already got an idea in mind that I’d like to develop. The dolls will be sad dolls and some others will have body irregularities. One should not expect happy, wide eyed little girls, cause I don’t do those. I could only paint what was in my heart, it’s the same with sewing. I can’t relate to a grinning, happy, bubbly doll, but I can relate to and create dolls like Shiloh. She is a little soulful girl, full of emotion in her big brown eyes.

Shiloh by Sundrip

I’m nervous about sewing “sad dolls” because I’m not certain how they’ll go over in my Etsy shop. I made 3 a year ago or so. I sold one and kept two for myself.

While going through and sorting doll clothes I found a doll I thought I’d sold. This is Sweet Pea hanging out in a tree.

Sweet Pea by Sundrip

I don’t know what I originally named her but she has a new name since she’s staying with me.

Sweet Pea by Sundrip

She makes me smile with her rosy cheeks and her little shoes. I just adore her. She and Shiloh are part of my private collection.

I will have another doll update soon. Hopefully I can report that I’ve got everything cut out and that I’m started on sewing.

My Etsy shop is still closed for the time being, but you can visit the galleries here on Sundrip and you can purchase prints from my Redbubble shop.

Until soon,

Faith

Half a Century More

Posted on by Faith

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

Posted on by Faith

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

Tiny Art. Safe Art.

Posted on by Faith

Sometimes I paint on a tiny little canvas because it feels less overwhelming and very doable. Larger canvas is hard to manage so I don’t mess with that at all but even at times an 8 x 10 piece of paper is daunting, so I pull out a small little canvas and let my mind play.

Lately I’ve painted sunflower after sunflower. It’s my go to art symbol that represents an array of mixed and confusing emotion with dissociation and multiplicity. One thing I recently learned about the sunflower is that when the sun isn’t out sunflowers face each other and sort of share energy.

The sunflower is the absolute perfect symbol of multiplicity. It’s got all those little lives (seeds) in its head. It can be a larger than life support system for itself and others which I find very, very cool.

One tiny painting included in this entry shows a little black girl hanging on to a huge sunflower. The other is a sunflower abstract. Each painting is on a 2.5 x 3.5 inch birch wood canvas. I used acrylic paint and ink then gave them a gloss finish. These little tiny art pieces would have originally shown up in my Etsy shop, however, they’ve been sold.

In between creating tiny art there is more doll making and art journaling, which I shall share at a later date.

Thanks for visiting Sundrip. If this is your first time then, welcome. If you are a regular reader, thanks so much for coming back.

Faith

Mariah the Flower Girl Handmade Bag Holder Doll

Posted on by Faith

Mariah is approximately 24 inches long in her sweat plaid, red dress and white ruffle bib accented with a red flower. In her textured yarn hair she wears one white flower.

Mariah’s golden brown skin was created with acrylic paint on cotton fabric. Her cheeks are rosy red and her eyes wide and beautiful.

If you’d like to adopt this sweet girl, please visit my Etsy shop at www.Sundrip.etsy.com.

Thank you for visiting SUNDRIP- Art for Life

Four New Dolls

Posted on by Faith

This is work in progress. Four new dolls. Four new faces on the way in my Etsy shop.

Work in Progress

This is what they look like before their skin is painted, eyes given life and hair sewn in. As you’ll notice, there are no legs. Why? Because these are bag holder dolls in progress not art dolls.

Below is a small gallery of dolls currently available for adoption in my Etsy shop at www.Sundrip.etsy.com .

  • Available

I’m in love with doll making and have currently thrown my energy into them. For a little while I thought I was finished creating them but the drive is quite strong right now so I will continue to sew, paint and present. I hope you like them.

Faith