Art for Cancer Workshop

This past Monday I took part in a workshop by Art For Cancer (www.artforcancerfoundation.org).  It was definitely a great way to meet other cancer survivors/patients/warriors (as one participant described herself). One of the interesting things was most of the participants I talked to thought they were in pretty good shape and we each felt blessed. I even met others who have lost loved ones to cancer when they were younger.  It was reassuring in a way to meet them and know that one does have a life after such tragedy.

The workshop consisted of learning some basic painting techniques, a meditation and gaining a piece of art by the end. I got to work with a palette knife for the first time.  I wished there was more time or more of an ongoing class than a workshop for a few hours. Here is my piece of art from the workshop:

I’ll soon be writing more about Art for Cancer as I’ll be part of the Art for Cancer Foundation art exhibit at Toronto City Hall Rotunda from Feb 17 – 24, 2012.  Here’s a trailer to the show:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oiCN6avKrl8&feature=player_embedded&noredirect=1

If you are interested, the art show is in a public space, so you can come by to check it out any time if you are in the Toronto vicinity.  And, also if in the Toronto area and you would like to be present for the opening night and silent auction to support Art For Cancer and future workshops, please contact me and I will e-mail you the e-vite

Clutter

Today I have decided to tackle some of the clutter in my home.  Let me tell you about this clutter.  I tend to save almost everything thinking I can reuse it in some project somewhere down the road. I am generally better with bills and the obvious things not to keep. With some of this clutter came the chaos that occurred in my life.  With the chaos came my benevolent friends who literally packed up and unpacked my belongings when I sold my condo and bought my current abode. I am eternally grateful for all the help I received as I would not have been able to do it on my own. 

What also came with this was as I settled into my home were two piles of boxes: one in my bedroom closet and one in the basement.  Truly these piles were out of hand. But they were big enough that I didn’t feel I could tackle them in one evening and with a small child around I didn’t want to do it in chunks as he would get into stuff and it could easily become a bigger mess.  Now, I think I’m a bit pass that, if my son gets into the pile, so be it, I will work through it anyways the next day, and I'm sure I will be working through these piles for days.  It was a little more difficult to be so cavalier when I was obliged to be at work daily and every hour seemed to be accounted for.

So what’s with these piles? Literally, to this day there are boxes that I have not yet gone through and sorted through the contents. Albeit, many of boxes have stuff of my life with my husband in them.  There are Rubbermaid containers containing his clothes (these I still won’t sort though and I feel they are for my son to see if he wants anything of his dad’s when he is old enough to make that decision). Then there are the bits and pieces of stuff from our wedding... like cardstock and ribbon leftover from our handmade wedding invitations, and other similar bits and pieces from our life lived together.  It is weird, that it has been almost three years since my husband passed (now longer than the time we were married) and in some ways it feels like I am on some sort of archeological dig of a life lived long ago. At the same time, I am crying through these little bits as I sort through them.  There is happiness in these tears because our time together was so good, so precious, and enriching; with that comes the missing and grief that continues to live with me.

Cleaning and sorting clutter can be like that.  I recall early after my diagnosis that I read in one of the “helpful” pamphlets that the hospital gives the newly diagnosed, a suggestion to start sorting through clutter so if you die you loved ones will have less to do.  I think I threw that pamphlet out immediately as I was so insulted that I would have to think about death at this point in my life. Also, I was totally emotionally unprepared to embark on these boxes. But somehow, a full year later, this suggestion comes to mind today, and I think of how for anyone going through clutter is a trip down memory lane, that there is a lot of emotions for anyone’s clutter and we all have sentimental attachments.

The space in between

This is a strange stage in regards to dealing with cancer. I am done the heavy duty treatment and I am somewhat recovered from the intense impact on the body from the heavy duty treatments.  I continue to take Herceptin and I have fatigue still, manageable if I plan my day out.  I’ve tried going without a nap, but I have discovered that doesn’t work so well, and I need to be on for my son in the evenings. I have had a clear mammogram and I generally feel pretty good.  I am starting to embark on more art and writing, or at least figure out how to put more of that into my days.  I continue to try and eat well, exercise pretty much daily and enjoy as much as possible out of life.  It seems to be a stage where I’m not quite ready to take on the intensity of being back at work  and managing as a single parent of a small child, but I am more able to engage life (outside of cancer) again.

I was wondering how this fits with the metaphor of this blog.  That this almost feels like I’m starting to finally emerge from the chrysalis at this point. Perhaps I was in the cocoon, before while really engaged with treatments, even while grieving. Now it feels like I’m starting to go and meet the world, a new world that I’m just getting to know, my old world seems to be fading away. I’m noticing that my whole world is shifting and that my direction and path may be changing.  There are some connections that I have made recently that I am meeting with optimism.   At this point, I don’t know for sure and I don’t want to write on what I hope to happen, but I am feeling positively optimistic about the potential opportunities and happy about impending change. But, that is part of life and being anyway.  It is really an illusion to believe that we know how our life is going to be.  And even though I may have a vision for my future, I don’t really know how that will come to fruition. The best I can do is engage life as fully as possible and live for the moment. Even as I write this, I am at my mechanic’s waiting for him to take a look at my car.  I could be unprepared and sit, bored, but I decided to bring my computer, a notepad, a book and see what I can create while here.  I have discovered that creating is my passion and it is best to access creativity as much as possible.