Monday, May 28, 2012

Dear Atara,
I spent yesterday at the beautiful Cemetery which is like a nature reserve in Newton. Jim took me there to do some B-role for the documentaries. Jim is great. He has a good eye and an artistic mind. I loved the day. I ended up staying at the cemetery until the evening because I met the most beautiful and sweet baby raccoon. I watched it for hours until we finally got comfortable with each other. I am not sure who trusted whom first. It is possible that I was more timid then necessary but I was also the one who made the first move!! Touching the little fur-ball was a bit of an ecstatic experience. Oh, feeling him allow me to touch him was exhilirating. It was like taking our love to the next level! I held the gorgeous fluff ball and he let me hold him. He even enjoyed the way that I touched him. When I massaged him underneath his little chin the way that I used to do to Siabonga, he picked his little head up further towards me. He liked it!!! Oh, I fell totally and completely in love. I was ready to adopt him only that coonie was not happy at all about my trying to get him into a box. No, he got pretty stressed out by that and he might have lost faith in me because after that he escaped up the tree and though I could still see a little ball of fur I knew that I would not be close enough to see his eyes that day.
So, I went home and read up on raccoons and learned that what I thought was most likely true. He was probably lost or abandoned. Racoons stay with their mother and litter for the first year of their life. He was all alone and at times looked quite distressed, especially when he was trying to move from one place to the next in order to drink some water from the pond. I went back today with some blueberries and cottage cheese and called and searched for him but he was nowhere in stght. At first I felt a sense of loss but then I accepted that I had reveled in delight one full day and that that is a blessing to be thankful for. And I lay down on the grass in the same place where I was yesterday and enjoyed the day. I just hope that either his mother found him or that he found a new haven nearby.
I will absolutely look for him again. I feel that that space is ours. The memory of him will forever be there, waiting for me. I saw a baby rabbit too, yesterday and today. And so many frogs that make a deep vibrating sound that penetrates the earth and my body. Nature. Nature. Nature heals. It heals. Nature heals.
My heart was aching from having to say goodbye to the man that I had spent the last two months with. I knew that we had to continue on our own paths but the separation was painful. And then Jim brought me to the Cemetery and my soul refilled itself and life beckoned me. And while I told Jim about Africa and about how nature speaks directly to the soul there I saw a tiny tail hanging down from a high branch and then I made out the tiny body of a baby racoon. The night before I had seen two adult raccoons and though my soul was heavy and my heart forlorn I cried out to them "You are so beautiful." Their peering eyes touched me deeply and I wished to myself to find a baby raccoon the way that I used to find baby kittens in Israel. And then the following day I met coonie. And he was as beautiful as any baby piece of fur could be. And though at first I was afraid him I learned that he was a very gentle creature and that he just wanted some warmth and comfort just like myself.
I was able to let go of Mark with the help of all that love in my heart that coonie brought out. I recognized how true and important it is to let things that need to end end so that life can continue its dialogue with us in all its fullness.
We got Him on Video!!! This documentary will be a beauty. I am starting to believe!!!

Friday, May 25, 2012

Dear Atara,
So, I am trying to calm down, to keep my frustrations at bay and to stay focused. I was ambushed with exhaustion yesterday and today. It is a heavy weight that leaves me in bed feeling guilty and useless. Adding the guilt and the feelings of being valueless sure help me. I did manage to make jewelry and this was one of the goals that I set for myself. I am making jewelry now with the hope of selling it so that I will be able to pay for private lessons in painting. I want to study privately with my water-coloring teacher and with my new acrylic/oil painting teacher. I have come to the understanding that I have potential and that it is time to invest more seriously in that potential so as to take my self a step further into expression and art. I can see the progress that I have made just in the few classes that I have taken till now and I want to continue progressing. So, I have to make some money so as to be able to take private classes with two amazing teachers and artists this summer. Encountering good teachers is a gift that I am taking seriously. Thank God I am physically able to paint. Thank God it is an art-form that is done standing upright! And missing out on learning from artists who inspire me would be foolishness. I have also met a wonderful jewelry teacher and I intend on continuing taking classes with her. Good teachers are blessings on one's path. And art helps me cope, helps me survive, helps me come face to face with my passions. So, I intend on going deeper, diving in and I hope that it will sustain me and bring me joy.
Partaking in the group therapy for artists that have suffered from trauma has helped me put My Art in the forefront of my mind. It has helped me understand the power and the gratitude that I have access to. And so I pray to continue to embrace it and to continue to reap insight and wisdom into the pathways to healing that it carves out for me to follow.

Love, Atara
Good Luck on your Journey


Saturday, May 19, 2012

Somehow, I am surviving this period along with the hemorrhoids without any pot. Today was Open Arts Studio and I walked forever with Ima and Bella and got some ideas. I want to make art with vaginas and fabrics and ribbons and possibly pictures of dolls...
I would like to write an article for the Newton Tab. And an article about Pain and Art.
I have collected over 70 signatures for the petition. I could go on and on collecting but have decided to limit myself to 100 signatures. I know myself and I know that I can't allow myself to take all the responsibility for this. I have to work on letting go because more and more I am feeling frustrated with how slowly things are moving. I think that going deeper into my art-work can help me. Incorporating my photography and painting and finding my artist's way to express my feelings will help me. One day, maybe my art will speak to a larger audience. The board meeting at V-Matters was frustrating for me. Everything feels to be moving so slowly, sometimes I feel that we are just pushing our aching bodies into steel walls and that we are heading nowhere, going around in circles, around ourselves. Does it really matter how many signatures I get? And if I got 1000 signatures would the Harvard Men re-think their thoughts? And none of this will change anything for me but I see no other way to live. My mind is always churning, always scrambling in and out of ideas, trying to believe that things will change.

I am exhausted from all the walking that I did today but pleased to have the pictures of the art that I saw in my mind. My vagina, deep inside, is burning. What is new? And as for my sexuality and my sensuality and men, I try to keep that out of here. Anyway, frustration can explain what I feel in that territory as well.

I met some sweet black children (i know that black isn't pc but black is beautiful and i am brown). I played and talked to them and they showed me the nests that they were building for their dolls. Five siblings, one mother and three fathers. I liked them a lot. I can feel emotional need and I love being with children that way, just Being with them is fulfilling for me and for them. I hope to see them some-more this summer when they play outdoors on warm days. I miss children and I especially miss those children whose hearts are hungry for attention and love. I always have some to give them. And they give so much in return.

Nests. Building nests for their dolls out of grass. And they put rolled dollar bills in the nests as well.

I would like to write an article to the Newton Tab soon.

And to play around on video, to put up on face book.

Boy do I wish that I did not suffer from this.
But, boy am I learning to suffer gracefully as though this was my calling.
What a heavy crucifix to carry. What an invisible yoke it is. Clawing its will into me, I defeat it. Again, again and again. Every living minute of my day and of my night, I defeat it by saying yes to life, yes to creativity, yes to interaction, yes to faith...and I carry on. Oh, how lucky are those that do not carry this agony in their bodies. How lucky are those artists that create with agile comfortable bodies and joy in their hearts.

My life is always double-edged, always hurting, always bearing... and often my smile is still wider then everyone else's and my warmth still encompasses many. How is this so? I suppose because I believe that the yoke that I carry is mine. I own it. I have learned to accept it, to come to psychological peace with it. Not complete peace. But some peace.
And so I think to myself, "how i wish that i could be an artist, to have that freedom in my body so that i could create without having the crush bear down on me and send me to my bed....how good i could become...And if there is a feeling of loss I accept it and remind myself that for me it will be art, art and pain together. And that my message will be different, unique. It will touch different people. And my search and my statement and my prayer and my hope will be unique too. And that I will find my voice.

My vaginal voice. Soft? Sweet? Courageous? Outspoken? Embarrassing? Shocking? Thought-provoking? Where do I find it? How do I begin to search for it.

Love,
Atara

Friday, May 11, 2012

Shabbat is on its way and I wanted to go to Kabbalat Shabbat but here I am, still connected to the computer. My hemorrhoids are back. Thank you Botox for nearly killing me and for leaving me the gift of my life.

The Art Therapy Workshop went very well. We were rushed for time and I had to keep track of our time to the minutes and I succeeded in doing so. I felt a bit controlling but it was important to stay on track and to have time to create and re-create, to journal and then to share. All the while Mary Frances was filming us. Hopefully we will have a continuation of this workshop within no more then a month. I feel very connected to my piece of art-work and want to continue exploring it. I might just do my journaling right here, straight into my blog.

I have taken pictures of my art-work from many different angles and distances and I have focused on different parts of it. I feel that it expresses a tremendous amount for me and I do look forward to venturing into it through writing. Maybe I will post a picture here and then write about each particular picture. I like that idea. It is a good way to share with others my work.

In the meantime I am doing okay. My mind is spinning with a lot of ideas. And there is so much work to do. Sometimes it feels so large that it is untouchable, impenetrable and immovable but because I know that I have made progress and have been able to re-create life for myself I know that just because things feel immovable absolutely does not mean that this is so. So, I continue to work and to live and one day in this life-time I will see the changes.

Pudendal Neuralgia, Vulvodynia, Vestibulitis and Interstitial Cystitis WILL BE WELL-KNOWN conditions. Every doctor and gynecologist will have heard of them. This is in my head and it will become a reality.

Over my dead body will we be denied. Harvard Medical School you will oblige. If you don't then FIRE will come. I swear. The suffering WILL END. And WOMEN WILL SPEAK UP and DEMAND to get the HEALTH-CARE THAT WE NEED.

Friday, May 4, 2012

Dressing the trees as women, after-all they are women and they need our help just as we need theirs. Tomorrow is support group. Sunday is workshop day! Interviewed Dr. Stewart. Going to get petition going. The Vagina Military is forming. Monologues aren't enough. We need a military now. Now or never and it is going to be now. We will form a force and over my dead body will our little "women's issues" continue to be treated as god-damn yeast infections. These things should have been documented and studied 300 years ago. I still can't wrap my head around the treatment of women. CAN'T GET IT, REFUSE TO GET IT, WILL NOT GET IT UNTIL IT IS IN YOUR GOD-DAMN TEXTBOOKS AND IN YOUR GOD-DAMN CURRICULA  AND YOUR GOD-DAMN EXAMINATION PAPERS AND IN YOUR GOD-DAMN HEAD MEMORIZED STUDIED AND FUCKING RESEARCHED BY ALL OF YOU!
Nope don't get it. Won't get it. Can't get it. And you want to tell me that this has nothing to do with discrimination against women. I will eat your head off if you dare. Doormats. That is what we are. Doormats, cattle, sex-slaves,....little walking complaining yeast infections in your god-damn head. The patriarchy will crumble. You wait and see. The patriarchy will be shamed. You wait and see.

"It is in your head" will mean something very different.

The Vagina Military
Terminology: It is in your head
Translation: It will be in your head forever once we are through with you. Hope that we don't mean a bullet.

I am very angry inside but I don't want to write about it to my blog because it has to do with my family. All I can say is that family members can be the cruelest least compassionate of the lot. I have one like that in mine. He is going to be getting a "it is in your head" if he continues his bullying behaviour.

I believe in the Vagina Military
Till the end, I will believe
And change will come
In my lifetime I will See the change before my eyes and I will know that I am a force in its creation

Reown It. Reclaim It. CUNT. My older brother called me a cunt. I reclaim the word, I will own it.
And I reclaim and reown and transform "It is in your head" also.

"It is in your head"

That will be the first weapon of the Vagina Military
Wait and see
You will get it