Being

Suddenly it all seems more real than it did before. I feel like I've drifted in this bubble without letting any of the cancer issues touch me. I have so many ideas of what I'd like to be doing in the studio. I have sketches, I have molds to make, I even have ideas for jewelry I'd like to make. But I have no idea when I'll be able to get back to any of it. That makes me a little sad, a little apprehensive.

Chemo starts tomorrow and one of the drugs that I'll be given is particularly rough with a lot of side effects. When I went into the doctor yesterday and left with this list of appointments, prescriptions, and schedule of injections to try to prevent some of the worst side effects, the really scary ones, it just kind of hit me in a way that I haven't felt before.

This first cycle is the one where they find out how I'll react to the cocktail of drugs. As the oncologist puts it, it's a one size fits all cycle and they'll make adjustments from there. Sheesh, that makes me feel like a lab rat.

So I'm just trying to focus on being right here and now. Just trying to stay positive. Just being. I really only tell you all of this because so many of you have lent me so much strength and healing thoughts and prayers. And many of you have asked to stay updated. I feel much gratitude to this loving community.

That's me yesterday afternoon. In 10 days when I reach the rock bottom of this first cycle of chemo most of that hair will be gone. That doesn't actually bother me all that much. It will grow back. It may even grow back curly and possible darker. Although darker is had to picture given the amount mature platinum blonde I sport these days.

One thing I can control going into this is that hair. So by the time you read this most of that hair will be lying on the salon floor. I'm not sure how short I'll go. I may leave it up to the stylist. Just throw caution to the wind and let her do whatever she likes. Or maybe not. This is after all about taking control. But short it will be and short hair is something I haven't had since I was a little girl. It's kind of exciting.

What's even more exciting is that I'm treating myself to a pedi with massage and all sort of exotic creams and stuff that will make my feet very happy. And you know, happy feet make happy people. So I am off to get some serious pampering. I'll be back here sometime next week.

Shop Update

Four kiln loads and the bronze is done. All the pieces have been given their patina bath. They've been sealed and packaged. They are ready to find new homes. I feel enormously pleased to have gotten so much done over the past week when I have been able to do so little over the past month, and really longer than that.

I'll update the Etsy shop on Sunday April 1st at 4 pm EST. I know it's April Fools Day. Things just happen in my life that way and I really am not fooling. It's gonna happen. I am ready to go. There are new beads. There are old favorites.

25 Beads

Yes, I know those are not beads. They are charms. Oh wait there are two beads sitting there off to the right. I have been in the studio. I have been working hard for 3 days straight. I made stuff - a lot of stuff. To be exact I made 25 beads, 53 charms, 10 pendants, 20 bead caps, and most likely some other things that I can't remember right now. All bronze, about 300 grams worth. I'm pretty sure that's a personal record. There are a bunch of new things too. I'm feeling rather pleased with myself. It's been a while since I was up to getting out there and spending time in the studio and it feels good.

These are boo boo beads. It has been so long since I made anything that I forgot my sizing and made the first parts too big. So I dug through my molds and made them into big focal beads that I wasn't sure about. But this morning I liked them. I can see them in bracelets which isn't unusual because I always see things in bracelets. I made some other boo boo beads that I actually thought first of in necklaces. But you can't see those. Sorry. They are experimental and I haven't quite got things worked out yet. I'll show you someday. Promise. Unless these boo boos turn out really ugly. Then I will just keep them to myself and pretend they never happened.

There are stacks and stacks of bronze pieces. Some waiting to be finished this morning. Some in the kiln, some in the tumbler. It's a bee hive of activity here. Which feels a lot better than sitting in a recliner watching television during the day. Toddlers and Tiaras .... I hang my head in shame. It's my daughters fault. When she was here she put on an episode for the amusement value as I was feeling pain and not at all amused with myself or anything else. It was like watching a train wreck. I really couldn't take my eyes off of it. But I am cured now.

And, drum roll, please....There will be an Etsy shop update soon. There will be lots of stuff. The wrens, nests, and bunnies will be back. Pretty much everything I have ever made in bronze and some new designs too.  Sorry, no ceramics. I am just not able to heft bags of clay yet or turn the seriously tough crank on the slab roller because it needs greased. Soon though. I'm thinking I will break my no internet on Sunday self imposed rule and do this Sunday afternoon. I'll let you know, OK? I'll post details here and on Facebook.

I just have to show you what I wake up to outside my bedroom window every morning right now. It is a  dogwood in full glorious bloom. It is stunningly beautiful and takes my breath away. It is a ginormous tree. I have never seen so many really huge dogwoods as the ones we have here. And I am not even in Texas where everything is bigger. I anticipate seeing some dogwood inspired designs in the future. I do love this tree.

Just before I go I wanted to show you one more thing that in a bizarre and probably twisted way makes me smile. My flamingoes tucked themselves into an embrace during the storms last weekend. It's like some kind of weird Dia de los Muertes installation in my garden. They just tickle me pink and are staying that way until they decide to pose themselves in some other way. BTW, my neighbor, nice man that he is, does not understand these flamingos.

But seriously, it feels so good to have turned this corner after surgery. I feel great and I am ready for the next step of treatment. I almost feel invincible. OK maybe not invincible but I do feel strong.

Waking Up

All around me spring is bursting into bloom. New wonders greet me everyday as the world wakes up from winter. I feel a little like spring. Maybe a lot like spring. I feel like I am just waking up from surgery, although it will be 3 weeks tomorrow. But each day I feel a little more awake. A little more like me.

My garden is all new to me. Who knew that there were tulips, daffodils, and hyacinths waiting there for me to discover this year. It's a whole new landscape that I had no idea existed when we moved here last June. My body is like a whole new landscape that was unimaginable last June. But there is beauty to be found in the altered topography that is me.

The cancer was large but still early with no evidence of spread. I feel lucky. I feel optimistic. I feel that each precious moment of life is mine to savor, to hold, to recognize as a great gift. To hold in my heart. Much as I hold in my heart all of your unimaginable out pouring of support and love. Each comment, email, card has been such a beautiful gift that reminded me to have hope while I've been getting on with the business of living.

I am slowly getting back into the studio. I've been too tired to do much and I have restrictions on lifting and little things like making sure I don't get cuts in my hands and yuk in those little cuts. There will likely be some changes to how I do things over the next few months. But Peter and I are working out the best way to do things. I need to be in my studio. I also need to be good to myself. Balancing act skill is not necessarily well represented in my life's tool box. But maybe this is the opportunity to learn a new skill set.

I start chemotherapy the first week of April. It's a reasonably short cycle of 4 that will be finished in June. I will most likely lose all of my hair but then I've always been looking for an excuse to wear flamboyant head wear. It is time to follow through. The chemotherapy will be finished in time to welcome my new grand baby into the world. Life is good.

Everywhere I look there is something new coming to life. The red buds and forsythia and flowering plums are a quiet riot of colour against the trees that are just now swelling with the first signs of green leaves to come. Life is good. Life is very good indeed. Life is full of promise and beauty.

Transformation

In many cultures and religious traditions butterflies have significance as a symbol of transformation, transition, and even of the soul. Egg, to larvae, coccoon, and finally the butterfly emerges. So many stages and so like our own human lives as we travel from birth through childhood. We become young adults and finally we reach our older years. Physical transitions, emotional transition, and even spiritual transition as we are transformed through all of these stages.

I've been thinking a lot about transformation and transition lately. I think when you are diagnosed with cancer it is only natural to do this. I'm quite visual in my thinking so it was only natural for me to turn that thinking into simple bronze butterflies. Although now that I look at them might be more like cabbage moths. But never mind, they all go through the same transformation.

My surgery is tomorrow. I will go through a physical transformation that will take time to adjust to. But the biggest transformation seems to be emotional and spiritual. I have my ups and downs. In fact, I had a very bad down just the other day. I have fears. But mostly, I feel more connected to the gift of each day. I feel an even deeper connection to my partner and to my children. If it is possible I may even love them more. I feel a deep need to embrace life, to celebrate life, to spend time appreciating small moments of the day. I feel a need to express gratitude for the many blessings in my life. To express that gratitude loudly and with bells ringing.

Many of you know me only from this blog but yet you have reached out and shown compassion and friendship. I am deeply grateful.

On a wing and a prayer and the big C

Finally, I feel satisfied with these little bronze pieces. I've been working on them for a while.  I love these little birdies.  I saw these plump little beauties out my back door all summer and fall. They were feasting on the bird feeder just outside my studio window. They looked wren like but so big compared to the house wrens I am familiar with. They have the most beautiful song. A little internet search and there they were. The mystery of the large plump wren. I present the Carolina wren, at least my version of one. My new studio friend.

The nest with a single egg fairly flew off my pen to paper when I first heard the fantastic news that I will have a new grand baby at the end of June. It's a celebration of the gift of life that babies bring. By the way, it is a boy that we will be greeting and loving into this world.

A 'wing and a prayer' is a phrase that I often turn to in times when I am having a hard time navigating life.  But I never really knew where it came from. A little research and I find that it comes from a British song/poem about a WWII fighter plane coming home after a mission on a single engine, ..'we are coming in on a wing and a prayer...' It means essentially that I may not be operating at my optimum but I'm getting the job done.

In fact, I haven't been operating on all my engines lately. You know, I'm pretty much getting there. I'm making it home.  But the results of all of those medical tests that came about after this year's physical are not all that fantastic. Yep, it is the big C. I have breast cancer. It will require surgery soon and most likely chemo and radiation therapy. I so debated whether or not to share that on this blog. But then this blog is about the intersection of my studio with my life and .... well this one is a biggy that is going to spill over into most everything I do.

But I do feel a little like that bunny. For me bunnies are a symbol of spring, of the beginning of summer. I remember watching them as a child hopping through the back garden at dusk. I loved going out there and quietly watching them being busy foraging for their dinner. Usually that was my mothers vegetable garden. She did not share the same affection I had for the little fellows.

Spring is just around the corner.....Spring is a new beginning and I'm ready for a new beginning.

Maybe tedium is a good thing?

Making bronze beads is a tedious task to say the very least. There are all these steps and multiple times that parts have to be dried, added to, dried, sanded, smoothed. But I actually quite like this task. The beads are fragile as they are put together. Sometimes they break. But I like putting my mind on the detail that they require.

By the end of yesterday, I had this little pile of beads done. There is something rewarding in being able to look at the fruits of the day, pack them into their firing container, and load them into the kiln. And every time I open a kiln, any kiln, it is a little like Christmas. You just never know for certain exactly what you will get. Mostly it is good but occasionally there is a gift in there that I just really do not want.

Right now that tedium that goes with making beads is a good thing. The whole day passed so quickly. I have these medical tests scheduled for next week. They are unpleasant and a bit scary. I have to get naked, or at least partially naked. Maybe I can leave my socks on.  I hate the naked part. I hate getting naked in front of complete strangers. A nudist beach would never be for me. Just my nakedness. Other people can be as naked as they want. I take my nakedness seriously and privately, thank you very much. Anyway, I hardly thought about these tests at all while I was making beads, except for the naked part. So tedium is probably a good thing right now.

And, by the end of the day I had taken a little journey and come to the conclusion that there isn't much point in worrying about these tests. I can neither change the past nor predict the future. I can only show up for this particular day. I have heard it put something like this,

"this day is a gift. this is a day we could never earn or deserve. it is a gift from the universe, it is a gift from god, it is a gift from life itself."

So I am turning up each and everyday and accepting this wonderful gift.

It maybe helps that I had an idea. It may even be a brilliant idea. Or a completely stupid idea. There will be no in between on this. I am OK with that. Part of the idea is in the kiln waiting for me to uncover it.  Something to look forward to. Don't we all need that at least a little bit?

Thank you all for your kindness and the support you've shown as I pass over these bumps on the road. I haven't been able to get back to each of you the way I would like. Please know that I treasure each and every expression that I have received.

Enjoy your weekend and the gift of each day!