More Art & Art for Cancer Foundation

I meant to post this entry a couple of weeks ago, I think because I meant to add photots of my art from the workshop and forgot about, so here it is.

The other week I participated in another Art for Cancer Foundation (www.artforcancerfoundation.org) workshop.  This one was using watercolours.  However it was using watercolour crayons and these are really intense wet-on-wet watercolour paints that I had never encountered before.  I've only used the watercolour pucks in past.  The results I think are quite amazing, although I think I need more technique to get used to the movement of the paint with water and to be cautious about over saturating the colour. Nonetheless, lots of fun.  And, another perk of the workshop was seeing a few participants that I've met before.  It is nice to reconnect while doing art.
Another Art for Cancer event is their upcoming Gala in the end of October and then they will be releasing a book that documents the City Hall exhibit that I was part of. Here's a preview:  http://artforcancerfoundation.org/upcoming-events/toronto-city-hall-event/the-book/

One of the things I've realized with meeting other patients at some recent Art for Cancer events is the uniqueness of the recovery stage past treatment; whether considered "without evidence of disease" or continuing to live with disease and perhaps even run out of treatment options.  I find when I meet other people who have recently completed treatment there are definitely shared experiences.  It is reassuring to meet other who are just as sensitive about what they injest. To start understanding the "new normal" that has arisen.  To understand how the fatigue and continue for months, and sometimes years after treatment.  That somehow the experiences of cancer and its treatment creates some similar shared perspective on life: to not sweat the small stuff; to really be focused on creating meaningful existences; and be mindful to take care of our fragile yet resilient bodies.

The watercolours:

 

reflections on end of treatment

Here I am staring at a blank page wondering what to write.  Perhaps it is because I'm at what appears to be the end of my cancer journey. Ten days ago I had my last Herceptin treatment and this Friday I have the port removed. In the past month since my last entry (I can't believe how quickly time has passed by) I've been on a yoga retreat, submitted art to more shows, lots of the usual social outings, and the usual household and mommy stuff.  All pretty good and positive. However ending treatment is odd.  I'm definitely happy to not have to be showing up to and anticipating having the port removed makes me a bit giddy and long with the anticipation to just live my days without showing up to a hospital every few weeks or more frequently.  There also is apprehension: about what next? how will I adjust to returning to work? will I be able to retain my health?
The wisest words I've come across is just keep stepping one foot in front of the other. Really, now matter what happens, it is most important to be in the present moment and keep living life to its fullest.

Poem

I thought I would share a poem I wrote about a week or so ago.

Crossing the Finish Line

The super sticky
white
steristrips
are looking dog-earred
and grey
day by day
one falling off here
another there.

The last reminants
of the year long
cancer treatments
that ravaged
my body
and wearied
my brain.

Avenging the reckless
little tumor that
decided to try
and make a home
in my left breast.

In addition to the poem, I'll share what happened a few days ago when I did take the last of the steristrips off.  I took them off at night before bed.  The next morning my son came into my room and that was the first thing he notice: "Momma, you don't have any band-aids!  Momma, that means we can tussle" (play fight). I affirmed, this is true.  Then my son said, "Momma, we need to celebrate.  We need to make chocolate pancakes." So we did.