6 posts tagged “art”
A book I helped produce is now available on Amazon. One of my paintings is also featured in the book, as well as art from other Vancouver artists.
Back in 2002 (or so) I was in a band for about 5 minutes. One day during a practice, while the other members were on a smoke break, I began to feel oogy. I had just enough time to yell, "I feel weird" or "I don't feel good" or something like that and then I sat on the floor. When I woke up I had a glass of water in one hand and a slice of white bread in the other.
I had lost consciousness for a minute or so.
"I understand the water, but would someone tell me why I am holding a slice of bread?"
"Bread is comforting." was the response.
Over the next few months I passed out a few more times. I also had trouble breathing. It felt like I couldn't get air, like my lungs were made of Swiss cheese. I was very tired and my thoughts were muddy. Most of the time it happened when I was doing something creative. I went to the doctor, who gave me anti-anxiety pills, but I was still symptomatic. That doctor finally sent me to a neurocardiologist. This guy not only figured out why I was passing out, but he pretty much smashed a diagnosis I had been struggling with since my teens - epilepsy. I had been treated for an unexplainable seizure disorder from the 7th grade until I was about 28. I took a lot of the wrong meds during that time, when all I needed was a little blood pressure maintenance.
The neurocardiologist pretty much told me what I was doing just about each time I had had a seizure in my youth. "You were raising your arms."
Yes, most of my seizures happened after raising both my arms. I remember having one after hanging a poster in my dorm room, another while curling the hair on the top of my head for a Halloween costume party and another while standing on a ladder and cleaning a shelf above my head. For this last incident I would like to give a shout out to Dr. Dave Guerra of University of Arkansas at Little Rock. He told me to go get a ladder and clean the shelves. I told him because I was epileptic I didn't climb ladders, he got mad and bellowed and made me climb the ladder anyway. Wouldn't you know it! I fell face first from that ladder. I dislocated my jaw - an injury that no one seemed to notice and I have trouble with TMJ to this day because of it. My parents probably could have assisted me in suing the University, but they didn't look in to it. My parents could have also been a little more diligent in trying to figure out why I couldn't move my jaw for the week I was recuperating - but that didn't cross their minds either.
Anyway, after the neurocardiologist gave me the diagnosis of neurocardiogenic syncope he prescribed me a pill called Topril XL. He also told me to eat more salt. Drink more water. Lay off the caffeine. AND AVOID SITUATIONS THAT MIGHT CAUSE OVER STIMULATION!
You mean like creative situations? You mean like playing music, writing a sketch, painting a picture or going to a gallery???
Isn't that a hell of a note?
A few posts ago I mentioned Artists in our Midst and feeling like I was having a heart attack. It seems that the stimulation and aggravation of preparing for this event has weighed heavy on neuro and cardio and I am back at square one with my syncope. It started about 2 months ago - dizzy spells, anxiety, cat like responses to loud noises. Speaking of loud noises, the people upstairs putting in the bamboo flooring at a rate of 5 planks a day didn't help.
Then came the heart palpitations and rolls, Swiss cheese lungs, headaches and all around oogy-ness.
I was in London Drugs yesterday when the feeling hit me - I AM GOING TO FAINT! Luckily, I didn't, but the feeling was strong enough for me to take my ass to the doctor today and get back on my blood pressure meds. Now that I am back in the swing of creating, the last thing I want to worry about is passing out and impaling myself on a paint brush.
I decided
to get involved in my local art scene - starting with my own
neighbourhood first. The event is a home/studio tour involving three
neighbourhoods of artists and merchants. I paired up with a fantastic
photographer, John R. Taylor, for a shared space since my condo
association refused me the use of my home or the complex party room for
the event. I was cheesed at first, but as the time of the show draws
nearer, I realize that having a show with John will be 20 times better
than having it on my own. He lives in an apartment that used to be a
store, so he has display windows and a wide open space. Besides that -
he really knows his stuff and I like being around people who really
know their stuff.
As far as the merchant windows, I will be prominently displayed in the
windows of Basic Stock (kitchen things), Banyen Books (a very large new age and wellness book shop) and Mark James (a high end
men's clothing store. Imagine my paintings next to an Armani or Dolce
& Gabbana!)
Here is a link to the website so those of you near can make a plan,
print a map, get to the bank machine - and those of you in faraway
places can get an idea of what this thing is.
http://www.artistsinourmidst.com/
I do not want to go in to how frazzled the whole thing has made me...but last night I thought I was having a heart attack.
I was googling "cardboard shelves" when I came across this website. There is a section devoted to prisoner inventions and an installation of a prison cell...and I was very intrigued. Art.
Yeah, wasn't that clever.
The
other day I posted about how when I want something, really put forth a
true desire, I never get it at 100% strength and satisfaction. I might
get it to a certain point, then something happens and either diminishes the satisfaction
or crushes the whole thing to oblivion.
My post went on to describe some of the smaller disappointments in my life that had to do with birthday celebrations, I only mentioned the most recent 2 because, well, who wants to hear 40 or more crappy birthday stories?
I also mentioned an art group I applied to and was accepted into late last year. The whole reason for this group is the planning of an art crawl in the spring. For me this would be an event of epic proportion, as I have never been involved in much more than small gallery shows and rejections from larger juried shows. I lamented that I got 3/4ths of the way through this achievement, only to have the property owners association (they calls them STRATA COUNCILS in these parts) flatly tell me I would not be allowed to host such an event on the condo property -not in the amenity room, not in my home, not on the property.
Well, of course I was devastated. What the heck was I going to do now?
I had various reasons for joining this group.
Reason number one: I needed to get my work out there in a town full of artists, a town with a noted art school (Emily Carr), a town LOUSY with painters and the like all screaming for a chance to be seen...
Reason
number two: I needed to get myself working with my community. One thing I
never felt in Little Rock was that I was a part of the art community,
or a part of my community in general. This would take care of 2 birds
with one paint brush. Not only would I be thrust into the local art
community, but by opening my space up to the local art watchers I would
also be participating in a community event. An event that helps define
and give character to the area that I now live in known as Kitsilano. I
like it here and I want to show some pride and community enthusiasm.
In
a situation like this, I would have been so pleased if the strata had
come up with a solution to the "security risk" instead of using that as
a reason not to welcome this community event into their/my lair.
Instead of squashing it like a bug, perhaps they could have put their
heads together and figured out a way to help me on those days. I was
looking at this from a totally different standpoint and perhaps they
did not see the opportunity this would be not only for me, a neighbour,
but an opportunity to showcase our well maintained condo and show
community support for the arts. This is a great neighbourhood event so
if security is the fear, volunteer to keep an eye on things during the
crawl. Show a little "can - do" spirit and support for a
neighbour...but that might be the Southern coming out in me...
Reason number three: I need to meet people who live close to me. I have met some really neat-o people here, but they all live very far away. So far, I have made fast friends with a swell fellow, John R. Taylor...and he has made joining totally worth it.
Reason number four: I just thought it would be fun. What else do I have going on?
Well,
like I said, when I got the final word from the strata, I was crushed
and crying and frantic. At the last art group meeting it was obvious that sharing
a space with another artist was going to be a challenge and a half. I
was reduced to begging from strangers. "Please, sir, could I have a
wall in your home? It doesn't have to be a large wall, a hall wall will
do..."
I made the request and two super heroes came to my rescue. As
if my woeful vox lament reached the ear of some patron saint in charge
of artist's studio spaces, who then told someone above them to give me
a 100% break for a change - I got a space! And what a space it is!
Dude, it's a store front! Thank you John R. Taylor!
So, it seems that things might actually work out better for me because the strata refused involvement. Odd how that worked out. I think this might be the first time in DECADES that something positive has come out of a negative for me. May be even the first time ever.
I
am a painter. I don't say artist because that somehow sounds like I
think I'm special or something because I throw paint on a canvas. I
have no place to get down and dirty with my paintings right now, so I
paint in my kitchen. Usually in the sink. I don't want to run the risk
of getting paint on the white carpets in this apartment. Yeah, I said
WHITE. It's hard enough getting the cat barf and red wine out of the
carpet, I do not want to think about acrylic paint...
Since moving
to Canada, my paintings have changed a bit. Probably because I was
forced to paint in a fashion and medium I was unaccustomed (gouache on
paper for awhile), but also because I feel different in Canada. I feel
pretty good for a change. I finally live in a place I like.
