Caught in a Grieving Eddy

I am full of nervous twitching!!

I sit in one of only two chairs where my feet can actually rest on the floor naturally. This is how my mind feels. Unable to place myself somewhere. Somewhere where I fit. I feel cold yet I could get dressed in warm clothing and out of my night ware or drape a blanket over my lap.  Instead I sit by the sliding door in my wicker chair with my elbows firmly wedged. Outside is the cold and white snow. The sun is cold as well. Showing no visible effort to push the grey clouds that surround it. That is how I feel today.

I am not a wind with energy. I am not the sun with warmth. I am barely visible to myself. I feel comfortable here. 

Is it Sadness?

Is it Laziness?

Is it Emptiness?

Is it the pull of what was?

The Undercurrent?


Am I caught in a Grieving Eddy?

Sometimes I can barely breath. Is this self pity that I feel? B would not approve. He would not be feeling this right now. He would be getting on with his life, like a friend of mine has. This makes me happy for him but also I wonder how it can be possible. They all say that men get on with it very quickly. Does this mean that they do not feel as intensely as we do? Do we hold on to our love to show its volume? I don’t know. They will argue that the love they fell is just as powerful and deep but how can it be when they move on so effortlessly. At lest it looks that way.

Loving hard is what I do. I don’t fall in love easily. At first my reflex was to seek desperately for someone to look after me. This dissipated as I felt sick when I found myself doing it. What a way to sabotage the self! 

Truthfully I never want to love with that intensity again. I don’t have another in me. 


swirling snow eases my mind

Today I sit in the back room of the house. Pyjama top still on. Facial mask on my face. The sun shines off and on as the clouds travel east. Mom always wanted to me shovel the back porch but now I don’t. I like the simple lines that the snow drifts create.

I feel as if I am sitting on a bus by the window with no one else on it not even a driver, yet the bus is traveling. I look out onto the houses and open yards and street lights, store fronts. There are no people. My mind wonders and I look up to the advertisements. My thinking is all over the place. The sun is again shadowed and I can feel the coolness of the air on my arms.

I have somehow managed to fill this house with ‘stuff’. All kinds of things that have no organized method. This house is me! This house represents my mind. The sun and furnace both kick in and one arms feels warmth while the second that is shadowed feels cool.

In front of me is a mission copy of a side table that I pulled from my bedside. on it is a hand mad sweater for a baby from Ireland. It represents one of the visits i backed out on this christmas season. Next to it is a miniature chest of drawers with a primary white coat of paint on it. It was to go with one of my sculptures. Yes, the show that has been cancelled. Cancelled may be the wrong word for he says it never was pencilled in.

The sun is so bright my eyes reflectively close and a wonderful bright orange/red/yellow veil fills them. Then again its gone.

I had a dream that  there were four beautiful young men for me to chose to marry. I picked the most beautiful and the wealthiest. Then everyone set up the wedding rooms with candles on some tables and lamps on others. Everyone seemed happy, even the ones I did not pick. We all    enjoyed the party then I woke. What a strange dream.

My mask should be ready to wash off now. I will put makeup on to attempt to look ok for I am hopefully getting my passport photo done today.

How Does One Spring Clean The Brain

Yesterday my show got cancelled, well maybe cancelled is the wrong word. What he remembers is it was never fixed in place. Talk about  throwing a steel rod in your wheel!

This is causing me to question everything! I have started cleaning which is commonly my stressed out reaction. Then I started to sew up a new duvet cover!!!. I stopped myself from that luckily. I am feeling FAT and really I would much prefer sitting,  having a scotch with my husband. BUT HE’S DEAD!

For over thirty years I have had a GO TO PERSON. Now that person is gone. Sure many will tell me that I have many ‘go to persons’ but they don’t understand. They may understand always having someone to be with there and with, but you really don’t understand the emptiness and black hole that is always next to you. When your spouse dies, your world gets thrown off keel! Gravity changes. Everything seems to fly around you like being caught in the tail of a tornado. The only place I seem to be save is under two duvets in the secure place of my bed. A bed that is always half full of pillows that take up that space next to me. When I roll over I can feel  the fullness of it and for a millisecond, I pretend he is still there lying next to me.

I have all these paintings that express some bits of how I have felt these past four years. I also have boxes of bronzes waiting to be finished and bases. What do I do With all OF this NOW?

My confidence has been shattered. How will I build it back up?



Manic Highs

Oh dear, yesterday I had another of those manic highs! While your in them you feel fantastic.

You think clearly, at least you think you do.

Your mind races, ideas flow without effort.

You connect with friends.

You speak of the future with such incredible conviction. All of this is gone the next day, today. I think I like the lows better.  They only effect me. When these highs come there seems to be no controlling them. It’s not like going down a snow hill uncontrollably its more like being attached to a helium ballon and enjoying the thin air. Not having any concerns to the increasing space between me and the ground below. Believing that all will be well and when and if I let go of the string I will only bounce like a beach ball till I stop.

I really should know better. If only we were given a warning like ears ringing before it happens.  I think one of the  attractions to this is that we immediately want to contact friends. Like this is the opportunity to show them that we are fine. Perhaps that is one of the reasons for the highs? To periodically let them know we are ok so we will be left to grieve. They accept them willingly. They breath a sigh of relief. They can then continue on thinking all is well for another month.  Oh dear,,,, another month.

We Have All Had Days




The nature station on t.v. helps put me in a rainy day mood. This is a good thing. Although the distant sounds of parrots is foreign to me.  I have just put my friends wig on for my head and mind feels cold. I now understand the importance of artist residencies. A place to go and be alone to work. I have been so fortunate to have mom’s house to be in for this time. Spring is coming though and my siblings want their money, rightly so. I look at it an another chapter, another page to draw on another sculpture to create. This wig is making me seem better then I was :/

My friends husband passed away last week.  She was a fellow confidant, another wife that was in the same ship. I am 15 months in my journey, she is just starting. Oh dear I would not want to be just starting again.

My bed has become my closest friend, my lover my security, protector. Everything around me seems to be feather orianted. feathers under me in bed and over me. Feathers in my paintings. Feathers in jars as bouquets. Perhaps its my need of flight?

As I write I remember the things that helped me in the first month. A basket of  chocolate, oranges, crackers, fancy jelly, teas. As I would pull myself out of bed I would eventually just allow my fingers to creep their way in the basket, landing on anything that caught my eye. This is how I ate for the first while. I think that this is what I will do for my friend. give her something to assist her in this time.