Carpe You Some Diem!

So, Festivall has come and gone.  I had a blast, and was glad to have such a busy and fun week to keep me distracted.  I have been suffering from a very painful and energy-sucking health condition for a while, and spent the time before and during Festivall waiting for a diagnosis.  My diagnosis came on Friday, and I won’t go into details (trust me, you don’t want to know) but the good news is that a very minor surgery can put me back into good health again.

Unfortunately, I have a serious phobia of surgical procedures.  I have always had it, but I honestly thought I had sort of worked myself through it — sort of my own aversion therapy, called “having four children.”  None of my children’s births caused the terrifying reaction that I normally get with surgical procedures, other than a few not-so-bad anxiety issues as I got closer to childbirth.  But not like this.  This time, the panic attacks hit hard and nasty.

For those of you who have never had a true panic attack, consider yourselves lucky.  Do you know that feeling you get when you’re driving down the road and you almost have an accident but avoid it at the last minute?  A panic attack is sort of like that, except it lasts longer, you get light-headed, you feel like you can’t breathe, your chest feels tight, and you may start hyperventilating.  It’s the most visceral feeling of terror that I’ve ever experienced. 

The thing about phobias is that people don’t get them.  People tell you “it’s not so bad,” and “just think of something else,” and “take deep breaths,” but they really don’t understand how phobias work.  Phobias are irrational fears.  IRRATIONAL, meaning “not rational.”  In all honesty, while I am not looking forward to going under the knife, I am looking forward to having the procedure done so I can have my life back.  And when I think about the procedure, itself, I’m really not afraid of it.  I have a great doctor, the surgery is really not too bad, I’ll be asleep through the whole thing, and won’t feel much pain after I wake back up.  The irrational fear has nothing to do with logic, so there is no trying to reason myself out of the fear.  My phobia is not with the procedure, itself.  To be honest, I’m not really sure what I’m afraid of, other than just the idea of surgery, itself. 

Lucky for me, we’ve got amazing pharmaceuticals these days.  Lexapro is my new best friend.  Well, not best friend — I don’t love it, but it is cool to sleep without waking up in a panicky cold sweat, and it’s also nice not to have panic attacks in public places, where people stop and stare and wonder “what the hell is going on with that crazy lady?!?”  I feel very low-key and sort of dopey, but I guess it’s better than feeling like I’m on the verge of a heart attack all the time.  I’m sure my family thinks so, too.

So, in a month and a half, I can have my life back.  Until then, I am sort of being held hostage by this condition that has been making me pretty miserable.  I am counting down the days until I’m back in the saddle.  Then school will be ready to start again, and I’m already looking forward to some new projects.  In the meantime, I’ve had Festivall to keep me busy, and a family vacation and summer camp job coming right up.  I think keeping myself distracted (and … um… mildly sedated) is the key to not losing my mind between now and the big day.  The good thing is that I have a lot of little distractions running around, and they keep me from thinking about it too much.

FestivALL is here!  Yay!  This is my favorite two weeks of the year.  I’ve got art shows lined up at Visions (Artwalk), Art Emporium (Artwalk), the Streetworks Exhibit and Auction, Art Gawk (citywide exhibit in which storefronts showcase local artists’ works … I have no idea which window my stuff will be hanging in) and I will be participating in the Art on a Stick sale at Davis Park Saturday.  I am also exhibiting my students’ packing tape sculptures all over the city during FestivALL.  I am crazy busy right now, but it’s a lot of fun.

I went on the Paul and Spike Show to plug the local art scene and FestivALL.  It was a blast recording the show with these two hilarious guys, and I had a great time with them.  It was a remote recording session using Skype, and I had to borrow a microphone from a neighbor who runs a radio station from his home, and the mic was not what I’m used to, so I think I sound funny.  Still, it was a blast, and I hope I got some good information out to the public about our local art scene.

Unfortunately, I’ve been having some health issues, and don’t have a lot of energy.  I also have some pain, and it started to get bad — of course — right before FestivALL.  It never fails that if something’s going to go wrong for me, it will happen right before FestivALL.   I have to go back to the doctor for tests next Friday and hope that I won’t be out of commission for all the fun stuff next weekend, but hopefully I can put anything off until the week after… and take LOTS of Advil in the meantime.  Ugh.

Yay!  Good press!  Check it out:

http://www.dailymail.com/Entertainment/200906090603

Mark Wolfe is an awesome guy.  I am so honored to have been asked to participate in this project, especially after looking at all the other banner designs!  Wow!!!

And I love that this project benefits the East End.  This part of Charleston is full of historic homes and gorgeous architecture, but got pretty run-down in the recent past.  There has been quite a push to reinvigorate the East End, and it has really turned into a trendy spot, full of neat little antique shops, a used book store, and nice places to eat (like Bluegrass Kitchen, which is featured in my banner design.)  People are moving into the old homes and remodeling them, and it’s really becoming a neat little community.   I have several friends who live there and are really happy there.  I’m not surprised — I would LOVE to live within walking distance of Bluegrass Kitchen, but then again, that could be bad, too.  I would probably weigh five hundred pounds because their molten lava cake is addictive!

I painted this portrait of my Mom after a visit to Bluegrass Kitchen one evening before my Altered Books class at Taylor Books.  It was such a nice evening.  It was just starting to feel like spring, and my schedule was starting to pick up with lots of fun things like the altered books, FestivALL projects, exciting art exhibits…  it was such a great evening, and to me, summed up the excitement of this creative, artsy, historical community.  Including my Mom was a no-brainer — she fostered creativity in my brother and me from birth!  She is my muse.

The banners go up this week, and I guess they stay up through FestivALL.  I’m excited to see Washington Street with all the banners flying.  Yay!  Our city is becoming Art-friendly! 

… from elementary school, at least.  Next year, he comes to my school!  I’m not sure what he’s going to think about eventually having his mama for Art class, but I hope it works out.  I do think he’ll really love the school. 

At the Spencer, WV Mart of Wal:

The really sad thing about this is that this has been this way for over a year, now, but I never thought to snap a photo of it.

And don’t give me that “well, technically, pasta came from China by way of Marco Polo” malarkey.  Although the oldest pasta known to humans dates back 4,000 years ago to Northern China, it is more likely that pasta made its way to Italy from the Middle East.  If you’re a true nerd like me, you can read up on the history of pasta at HowStuffWorks.com.  It’s truly fascinating.  REALLY!  You might also want to check out the “Stuff” podcasts, which are equally hilarious and informative. 

My son, Joseph, who also enjoys poking around in creepy, old buildings.

So, I visited Weston State Hospital (now known as “The Trans-Allegheny Lunatic Asylum,” which is sort of a dumb name that has nothing to do with any historical names of the site… duh!)   I have been fascinated by the place and its history since learning of its sister hospital in Spencer, WV.  I remember as a kid, some older family members would exclaim, “you’re driving me to SPENCER!” which meant “you’re driving me crazy!”  But I never really knew what that meant, until moving to Spencer and learning about the State Hospital, there.

When I found out that the enormous, creepy state hospital offered tours, I had to check it out.  I had stopped by to take exterior photos while it was still abandoned, but really wanted to go inside — to see what the hospital looked like and to imagine what it must have been like during the building’s heyday. 

The history of the sanitarium both repulses and fascinates me.  I admit, I do have a sort of morbid interest in the arcane treatments performed there, although I feel that it is important for those of us fortunate enough to live in modern times with better medical care to learn what went on back then.  I feel that we owe these victims that much — to remember their stories and not let their mistreatment be forgotten.

As I learned more and more about the patients of these asylums, I was shocked to find out that most of them were women.  A woman could be admitted to a place like this simply for being “difficult.”  At the time, mental health issues were thought to be caused by overactive emotions, and women, being the more emotional of the two sexes, were often sent to these hospitals for any reason.  Women were also admitted for truly dubious reasons when her husband simply did’nt want her around anymore.

As a wife who is often accused of being “overly emotional,” I relate to these women.  I know that if I were living in the early half of this century instead of now, I would have been admitted long ago, and probably would have found myself on the business end of Dr. Freeman’s icepick.  It terrifies me to think of how many women were silenced just for daring to have a voice of their own.  I could have been one of them.

I got really bored and built a miniature Charleston in my basement.

Just kidding.  It’s a Photoshop trick.  I’ve been trying out different techniques of faking tilt-shift lens photography in Photoshop.  Some methods work best for some photos, and some work better for others.  It’s a matter of trial-and-error.  This one worked out.