Category: Paintings

Another Long Day

Posted on by F.Magdalene

I wonder if my cat hates my job every bit as much as I hated my mother’s profession? How many times have I said to Joe Schmoe, “Here I come?” but made him wait a long time in dead silence? How many times have I sworn to take a break? “Really, here I come.” Sometimes he looks lonely. I worry he feels ignored just like I did.

Instead of papers and pencils it’s paint brushes and canvas.

I enjoy brushing Joe and chatting at him. The aides adore him and take over loving on him; and I let them. When they leave it goes back to being me and him in silence.

He’s sleeping in bed with me again. He sleeps by my head, curled up, back to me, in silence. It’s always so quiet in here.

I’m at the table, back to Joe. Right now I can only hear the trickle of the waterfall in the Betta tank. Ah, but what is this? Joe has turned the tide? He came to sit beside me and break being apart in silence. He kissed my hand and lay beside me. I’ve got to go. There’s no way I can do anything but spend a few moments with him just as he is asking.

My heart is smiling. The day has been given a great gift.

Faith Magdalene

A little frustrated and it shows

Posted on by F.Magdalene

I intended to keep the colors brighter like always, shockingly bright, but this time darker colors felt right.

The rainbow was given a darker red and a mustard yellow stripe in a midnight blue sky. The clothing of the figures is in plum, dark red, green and blue.

As I worked I realized the high amount of frustration and anger associated with feeling like a freak; feeling broken if not shatteted. Line after line I drew myself shatteted for the last time! I will not do it again.

I felt so hidden behind the lines, even hidden from myself. I’ve described being a multiple like looking into carnival mirrors. It’s hard to know who is who. Well, I may not always know the who but I do know The Way.

I need hope too. I don’t feel hopeless but sometimes I feel like I’m in prison here. I wish I could leave. This isn’t my home anymore. However, I can’t just up and go in the middle of the night – won’t up and go like that. I’ll move somewhere safe, clean. One thing is for sure, there’s no more peace here.

The painting will be in the shop very soon. Check my Etsy.

Faith

Sometimes I Feel Like A Freak

Posted on by F.Magdalene

This is about the stress and pressure from people telling me what I should be doing and me having a hard time finishing projects. Slowly but surely they are being completed, this one too very, very soon. –

Sometimes I feel like a freak but I try to hide it.

I try to blend in.

Say the right things, the right way.

I want to hold my face in the expression allowing emotions of the moment to show, balancing them on my brow and tongue like a real live woman.

I’m not normal. I’m not and the effort it takes to be, exhausts my tired spirit.

Sometimes I feel lost.

I’m lost

as ink scratches on

9×12 pads

roads and hills,

lands of dramatic color and wonder.

With each stroke of the pen to paper you hear the symphony of my madness.

There’s stress in the ink, acrylic and experimental designs. Stress to do it your way.

Change. Spotlight. Museum. Gallery. Gala. Teach. Speak, Lead!

Don’t waste your voice, your voice, your voice, your voice.

The art stops. The freak is seen clearer. And everyone finally goes home.

Faith Magdalene

The Deluge – Now in Etsy

Posted on by F.Magdalene

The Deluge is complete and is in my Etsy shop. One of the things I point out about the balance. The woman standing has legs and feet that are wound around. Each foot meets a tiger lily, a child and a purple flower in full bloom.

It is haunting in some areas. Those are the areas to leave behind. Those are the areas of the past that I can’t take with me to the future that I am building here. I’m not going to another planet. I’m right here. But some of these things need to swim free because they no longer have a place here.

If you visit my Etsy it’s worded better 🙂 You may also purchase through PayPal. Please see appropriate email address on the contact me area.

Thank you for listening,

Faith

A double shot of usefulness

Posted on by F.Magdalene

I’ve not shown off my Philodendron Hope plant in awhile. It’s growing out of two Betta tanks.

I’m going to clip it back soon and allow certain leaves to mature. It’ll look nicer cut back.

I have hope.

There’s no doubt about the hope I have, but the path to it feels difficult at times. Fear is enemy number one.

I know I have hope. I’m just having a hard time keeping my fingers on it.

Maybe it should be enough, the fact that I can see it and know it’s within arms reach.

Well, in typical artist fashion, I’ve got several projects in different stages all going at once. Still, I’m encouraged by the “I Believe” piece.

It seems to carry the same symbols as two other pieces, which is very interesting to me.

I’m so happy to be making art just for me! And I so love that one young girl’s hair is 3 hearts instead of round puffs. 🙂

OMGoodness I have fallen in love with collaging entire works with my own art scraps. How satisfying!

It makes me smile to paint here in this little place I’ve created; sipping tea, dabbing paint brushes, writing letters and such. Recently a naysayer called the entire apartment an ecosystem. He has no idea how happy that makes a girl like me.

I enjoy waking up to meaning, purpose and usefulness in my little ecosystem- apartment. I could use a double shot of usefulness about now.

Covid update – still running a fever. Unproductive cough, mostly at night. I still break out in a sweat which feels different from hot flashes. I have GI issues, a rash on my back, my scalp inexplicably itches, too. My blood pressure has dipped so low that I’ve passed out.

I ordered supplies from Amazon since getting to the store is out of the question. Coconut water, cheerios and of course jello were among many of the supplies. Why do I love jello so much?

Please excuse me, I’ve got some cuddling to do before the day begins.

Faith

Epiphany: A Future that is Mine

Posted on by F.Magdalene

CONTENT – Child Abuse. Strong emotion. Therapy Review. The art work is not finished but will eventually be in my Etsy shop.

If I believe I have a real future and a real hope, why do I keep wanting to go back and fix things? Why do I still feel like that little girl who needs her mother to love her?

No, it’s too late. I know she’s gone but I feel myself unable to give up. But not giving up the past means there’s less room for the wonderful future ahead, a future I firmly put faith in.

Today Dr D ask me if I could say anything to her what would I say? My words are in bold. I told her Don’t touch me! Don’t look at me! Keep away! You keep saying you’re going to give me a way, then do it!

That comment was interesting because the entire time I was talking to her I never said I love you or why don’t you love me? I never said hug me. I never said anything like that. It was it, Get away from me! Get away from me!

I didn’t want her to touch me ever again. I was angry about her watching me. I was angry about her letting others watch me. I was angry about all of the touch. I was angry about her destroying the mind of my sister. I was angry about her destroying the relationship I could have had with my sister. I just wanted her to go away. That was different from the feelings I thought I had. When I had the “spontaneous opportunity” to speak it was the voice of rage not a tiny, vulnerable child. That was incredible.

The artwork I’ve been doing lately shows exactly how I feel about my mother’s voyeurism. She was everywhere to the point that it was scary. Now that I think about it, if she stalked her boyfriend with us in the car of course she stalked my sister and me. And she wore that stupid black coat with the stupid hood looking like the grim reaper. She wasn’t holding anything, but dang! Standing in a pitch black hallway in a black trench coat watching people like a psychopath!

She told me she had people watching me and my sister and that nothing could be hidden from her. Dr D jumped in an said, “This is why you have DID.”

It was the most terrifying time of my life growing up with her and yet I thought I wanted that woman to love me. I wanted a little child me to go to her. To run to her. To be held by her.

Are you kidding me! No way! This is the woman who beat my lips with a wide tooth comb. Who beat my body with a towel rod. No. No. I have got to scrape this off of my heart so I can let myself have that future that’s so right in front of me. I’ve been crawling towards it. How do I scrape this off of me, the filth that she layered on me? The filth belongs to her. Whereas a future filled with hope is mine. I believe that with all my being.

Faith

OCD and Eating Disorders. Art.

Posted on by F.Magdalene

Obsessive Compulsive Disorder and Eating Disorders occur together up to 40% of the time. My OCD and my eating disorder have gone untreated because there were other things that took first place like getting me emotionally stable so I could stay out of the psych ward, moving to stable housing, stabilizing dissociation and of course getting beyond the hospitalization in 2018. There’s always been something to push attention elsewhere.

Dr D and I have been discussing OCD regularly, and I’m still reading the OCD workbook. That’s going slowly because it’s very triggering. I discovered one of the most traumatic memories wasn’t my mother being abusive but having strong OCD symptoms for which she never sought help.

Every year when we went to Kentucky we crossed a bridge. While crossing we had to sit perfectly still for fear of triggering my mother, who said she’d drive over the edge. THAT is part of her OCD. At a reoccurring meeting, I worried I’d stand up and scream the F-word. THAT is the same kind of symptom from the disorder I inherited from her.

My mother and I share quite a few symptoms. We both need to see our belongings. I arrange and rearrange my apartment almost daily. It used to be daily. Now it’s once a week. The meds for OCD have helped me in many ways.

I keep quite a few art supplies out for two reasons; 1- easy to access 2- easy to see them, which brings me comfort.

Right now I’m having a difficult time with compulsive eating. There’s the obsessive thoughts followed by the compulsion. A box of 10 Twinkies was purchased the other day. Once the box is opened I’m compelled to eat the entire thing or risk something bad happening to me. I’m not sure what, but it happens with most packages of food. If I open it I’m compelled to eat the whole thing. I’ll eat during the day and night. I’ll wake up in the middle of the night until the item has been completely eaten. This means high calories that don’t get worked off like they used to. To make matters worse, three of my most vital medications has the side effect of increased appetite. I have that pulling on me and OCD associated eating.

There’s no strong emotion followed by binging. It’s obsessive thoughts followed by binging and compulsive eating. I don’t purge in any way though it has recently crossed my mind. I don’t want to gain more weight but I also don’t want to ever purge again, in any way.

I have to say, being in a wheelchair has increased pacing, rocking, counting and staying awake until I absolutely have to go to sleep. Then when I’m sleeping I don’t want to wake up. These may not all be OCD issues. I just recognize these behaviors in myself.

It can sometimes take

The book has really helpful information but as I said, it’s triggering because it brings back unwanted memories of my mother and her extreme behavior.

I’m unaware of aunts having OCD. As far as I know it’s in the immediate bloodline. It goes from my mother to my sister and me. It’s as disruptive in my life as dissociation.

Art

The woman feels very judged and misunderstood.

The 12×9 collage is on heavy paper and includes words and phrases cut out and strategically placed. It’s a work in progress. I’ve got to figure out what to do with the background. I started this piece today. I hope to finish it and one other piece very soon. The below piece is called The Deluge. The eating disorder piece is called Dignity.

Faith

What Keeps Me Awake – Fear of letting go

Posted on by F.Magdalene

My mind will catch up with me if I turn over and go to sleep.

Grief will catch up with me if I allow my mind to slow down.

I’m afraid of the images that are so vivid even with my eyes closed so I watch worthless TV shows and listen to books I’ve heard more than the author has heard it himself.

I feel myself running. I’m afraid of being left. I hate hanging up the phone after therapy. I hate when my CNA leaves for the day. I feel alone in the world when people leave. It’s not that they are leaving to go home, it feels like they’re leaving me.

My face is different all the time.

I see my different selves in photos.

My appearance drastically changes as the day goes on.

It takes so much mental and physical energy to leave the house. When I return, I look swollen and tired. Seriously, these two photos were taken hours apart.

I often do not recognize myself in the mirror and that spooks me.

On days when this is happening I go in the restroom with the lights off, and keep my eyes down so I don’t catch the eyes of the person in the mirror.

I recently looked at more photos of my mother and her sisters. You can tell we share blood. I don’t mind clearly being from that family. Years ago I started getting ok in my head with having my mother’s hands. It feels like it should bother me to look so much like that family but it doesn’t. I suppose it would be another story if they were dog-butt ugly.

Art

I like to play with light on my face. I often want my face to be my art, expressing different emotions.

Photos after dental surgery (and with a filter) allowed me to show how my heart feels bruised and beaten by grief. It’s not just grief for -K-, it’s grief over the catastrophic consequences from the selfish choices my family routinely made when I was young. It’s grief over decisions I made as an adult trying to survive my past.

Sometimes these things feel as if they consume me.

*No worries. These photos are from past dental surgery. I’m 100% safe and healed, as seen in the recent photos at the top of the entry. *

I sold a few paintings.

I sold the little girl with the balloon

and the one about faith. The funds will go towards my trip at the end of June. I’m hoping to really fill my Etsy shop in hopes of making more money for my three day stay. I’ve also updated my Redbubble shop that offers prints and products of my art pieces.

It’s 2 in the morning. I have things to do tomorrow but being alone in the dark is hard.

My head is no better than when I started writing. Please, I need peace inside.

Joan

Father. Art.

Posted on by F.Magdalene

I keep sighing. My heart is heavy but I keep trying to lift it up.

The fatigue is insane.

I’m learning so much about how OCD affects my life and how it affected my mother and sister.

I don’t know why I keep thinking about my father. I remember his voice was kind and sweet. I don’t want to be angry with my mother for separating us. It’s foolish to entertain what-if scenarios but what if one of my parents loved me.

I say my mother didn’t love but I’ve got to retract that statement. The more I learn about her mental health the more I think she had love for me from time to time but was unable to most of the time. There were many things I can point to now and see a shadow of normalcy where love could have existed. Somewhere in that shadow she may have been capable of loving me. Sometimes there may have been a spark.

I bet my mother battled depression after the divorce. I remember feeling like a failure after my marriage ended. Is that why she cried so often? Did she cry because of the divorce and the loneliness?

It’s hard to say she may have loved me while knowing the extremes she went to in order to hurt us.

She lied and told me my father was dead when he wasn’t. Now I wonder if what contact she had with him in my younger years.

Like all my other family photos, my father’s photo is tucked away so I can’t see it. There are no family photos on my walls at all, just art.

Our family of three left a restaurant together. While in the car my mother told me and my sister to “freeze, it’s an emergency, don’t move.” She said look straight ahead and don’t move. After about a minute or so she gave the all clear then said, “That was your father in the car next to us.” It was cruel.

I’m tired. I’ve got to sleep very shortly then get up and eat. The fatigue is heavy.

Original Art

This piece has changed significantly. It now reflects dissociation and PTSD. It’s currently listed in my Etsy shop.

This is more Chatter Art. It’s art that I do to better manage the incessant talking in my head. I’ll put this in the shop too. It’ll be in the section for journal art.

The above is complete and ready for the shop. It too is chatter art. It feels great to finish art pieces. You can see more in my Etsy shop. 🙂

I have a restart button hanging on the wall so if things really start to go down hill I can hit the button, take 5 minutes for breathing exercises then get back to life. I got the button from Dollar Tree.

Until soon,

Faith

What Keeps Me Awake – Death and Dying

Posted on by F.Magdalene

I have more trust that tomorrow will come than I did six years ago, still I live as if I’m breaths away from dying. I feel overwhelmed with the idea of dying which makes me wonder what will happen to all my plants I’ve worked so hard to nurture? Who will take my frogs if I die? Will they appreciate small moments with aquatic frogs and cute poses by the tree frogs?

And Joe, who will care for Joe? He’s 14. I’m his second home. Being passed around can be difficult.

My CNA has covid and will be gone for a bit. I was with her a day before she tested positive. I’ve consistently tested negative, as well as no fever.

You know what’s funny? I’ve got a very nice fill in but she’s not up to par with my regular CNA. Despite calling her a psychopath lol, her standard of care is significantly higher than others; this, on top of taking the time to get to know me, makes her a really good CNA.

I like the person I have right now, the cat does, too, but would she ever take the time to get to know me and work with me long term? I wonder, if I had to get a new CNA will it be difficult again? I’ve come to understand how difficult my OCD can be to work with.

I wish my regular CNA had to experience two clients before returning to me. The feeling of not knowing what you’ve got till it’s gone, goes both ways.

She most certainly has OCD though it manifests itself differently. Somehow we work well together. We’ve even sit down and talk about the books I have on OCD.

There’s a Japanese artist named Yayoi Kusama whom I relate to very well. She’s got OCD and other issues but it’s her OCD that I relate to the most.

Yayoi shamelessly paints what she sees in her head, in bright colors.

She’s known for painting dots and pumpkins.

Yayoi helped me let go of shame concerning how I express chatter in art form.

I scribble and sketch in order to process the constant talking in my head and the oppressive amount of stimulation I feel.

I have quite a few pieces of chatter art. To me, my chatter art feels different from art that I call chaos in color because the chatter has very little focus, no space unfilled, no place to rest the eyes, yet a legitimate expression of art therapy.

Yayoi spoke of feeling like the “modern day Alice in Wonderland.” I can’t count the amount of times I’ve called myself the Black Alice in Wonderland.

It feels good knowing my art has a place out here and that I don’t have to feel crazy about it. It’s ok to identify with Alice and Wonderland. It’s ok to let the art simply be a copy of inside my head, and to do so in emotive fashion.

Recently I’ve been using alcohol ink. It works well for what I’m trying express, and they travel well.

The artwork above is a combination of acrylic paint, neon acrylic paint, alcohol ink, black ink, gesso, paper.

I love how Yayoi prefers paper, too. I’m strongly considering writing to the 94 year old artist way over in Japan. She’s made a deep impression on me.

It’s encouraged when I find female artists like Yayoi and Freda Kahlo who by example, give my art legitimacy.

Tonight. I’m not sure why I’m overly stimulated. Concerns with death are extreme. Thank goodness I have plenty of art supplies.

Faith