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