Thursday, June 28, 2012

Depression
Alone
Out on the streets
disabled
can i be someone's pet?
i am affectionate and loving
what a sad thought
and funny too

grief

loss

depression

fears

anxiety

insomnia

desperation

negative negative negative

my body hurts

get me out of it

i want a new body

every minute minute minute

insomnia no sleep no peace

didn't send in any writing

pathetic, hate the subject

want to throw PN up

The Subject

Subjugated to this till death do us part

death do us part!!!

Yes! Something to look forward to!

come death, come

take me away into your loving arms

so many years till that is gonna happen

burning burning vagina all the time all day long

great awesome life, uh -huh

can i drown my head just for a night

shut the signals down!

did you hear me? I said shut the signals down!!!

what's she talking about

she's talking about the signals, shut them up already!

mam, i don't got no machine that can do that

what? well, then get off of your lazy ass and create that machine fast

get those signals shut down now, i'm telling you

you don't want to see no daughter of mine splattered down there now, do you?

that won't be a pretty sight now, will it?

no maam, that won't be no pretty sight

I will get  to work

you better get to work or there won't be no dinner waiting for you

and tell those boys to put their shovels away

she ain't jumping off no building tonight, no she ain't

but you stop looking at me now with those beetle eyes of yours and start working on that signal machine

i will be damned. they know how to make signals talk through the air but they don't know how to shut down my baby's signals that are right here, right here in this little brain of hers

ain't no sense in this world

no, there ain't no sense in this world at all

and i'll tell you why there ain't no sense around here

its cuz the signals they got running around are wired to that hanging thing attached to where we got our 'down there'

the wiring is off, did you hear me, mister

i said fix that wiring in her head and tell it to stop going to the wrong places, you just get it to shut right up and fast, did you hear me straight or what?

And tell those men down there to put their shovels away. i made blueberry pie and she ain't gonna go when there is blueberry pie on my table. she know i made it for her.

Tuesday, June 19, 2012

I got very anxious today before going to my private water-coloring lesson. In order to get to my teacher's house I have to walk the way that I walked the first year here when I was at my worst, lugging my tormented body to physical therapy at Marathon Sports in Newton Corner. I trudged my way through the snow and slush and made my way through the winter into spring. Then I was told to do Botox and my descent into the Underworld began anew. I lost all the progress that I had scraped out of God's frozen ear. I lost it all, again. And went under, suffocating under cement, turning into molten tar. And still I watched my body walk to Marathon Sports, my brain focused on high buildings, images of razor blades and bodies of water that could smother the pain for once and for all into nothing raping my mind.

My anxiety. Today I crawled back into bed an hour before I had to go. I wanted to face the wall and to not leave my bed or my bedroom.

I went. I went to paint with water-colors. In the Spring of that year I started taking water-coloring classes at the New Art Centre in Newtonville. I discovered that I could stand for the three hour class and that I could paint lying down in my room. I discovered that I could paint. I realized that I had talent. I was mystified by the birds of many colors that appeared on my papers. I had gained something. The birds were a sign of progress, of life and of hope. Then I had Botox. For the second time, life and hope disappeared and sirens choked the darkness. I rocked my body back and forth on the floor of my room. I could no longer go to Micheal Milbourn's water-coloring class. I could no longer stand for three hours or for two or hours or for one hour. I could no longer schedule anything. My body caved into torment. My mind caved into torment. Windows were to jump out of. Ponds were to jump into. Tall buildings were magnets to my mind. Pills. Poisonous mushrooms, berries and back to pills.

I don't want to remember. I try hard to forget. I want to be present today, not jarred into the past. I don't want to relive it.

I walked through, past and into...

And once I reached my teacher's house and started painting I was here again.

I lost so much breath today.

And I gained two fish and a lot of homework; many more fish to paint.
Next week I will brave the way again.
Something good will come out of all of this.

I am sure.

Friday, June 15, 2012

the sun burns me

inside

i spread my legs

to accept

my self

Before me

i see

pictures that i have taken

dolls bleeding from their eyes

this is me

i can no longer hide

behind a pretty

aging

face

i have to let it out

all the blood that never spilled

it's time to stuff the fear into what it belongs

and to show

it all

to anyone

who wants to see

what it really feels like

the true face

the true face

behind this silent deadly monster

its time

even if it claws through minds

everyone has their destiny

mine happens to be real ugly to look at

and as true

as the guilt you felt

with the first lie that you ever told

i follow one

only one

from her i learn

how she wants me

to love

her
lonely goddess

collect your tears

they are diamonds in the night

they will be stolen and sold

collect them quick

if they find them

they will take you hostage

and make you cry

and they will laugh

they will sell your tears for money

they will sell your tears for power


Collect your tears
hide away
in the distant caves
if you must cry

make sure they never see
if they see
they will take your sisters hostage too
and they will laugh as they cry

they will laugh

as they die
maybe i have finally understood

that i can conquer my own fears

in the act of surrendering

i accept

your divinity

i accept your order

and your command

over me

i accept

i surrender

to you


no longer to them


but to you


and finally

i become your

apprentice

Goddess


to you i

will

i will

i will

my own surrender




i have to listen better

i want to listen better

i want to know you

i want to learn you

i want to understand you

the way

that no man ever took the time to do

i don't want to be like them

i want to know you the way that i love to know

with patience and curiosity

i want to be taken in by you

and will you please lead me?

i am willing to come, knowing nothing

knowing only that you

are the lover

the only lover that i ever had

that i am the only lover that you have ever wanted

teach me, please

how to seep like honey into you

how to flow like water into you

teach me

please

what it feels like to

know

you

the way

that you

have always

wanted to be known

there was blood on that beach

did you see it leak into the ocean?

the moon witnessed it all

the moon knows all the secrets

she watched me run

my arms wide

my legs like wings

carrying me through waters and darkness and moon-light

and the love

women-love

my two loves were with me

dancing the dance of gratitude and joy with my body


you must have seen the blood there

the ocean swept it up into itself

you must have seen it

the moon witnessed it all

one day it will

it will

split open and that blood will cover it all
even the ocean

will

turn

red
Wow, So I have my period and I am feeling good. The sun is shining.



underneath the vines
intertwined
like the curls
the tight curls that shaded me
down there
down where
that opening


that men were always trying to get into
fighting to get into
as though the uglier that they were
as though the cruder that they were
as though the more impatient that they were
the better their chances to



enter



petals and soft
your eye-lashes kiss flowers
your curls have swum in ponds
water and earth and the soft smell of your familiar joy

i know you
i know you when you are peaceful
when you are happy, with me

i know you


their moist invasions
don't thrill you

there is nothing there
in the way
they enter


they slam into flowers
indifferent to the petals that scatter
and all that shaded beauty melts into the scorching sun
and you are gone



just another that tried to enter



this time
i am in love

this time i know
how precious you are
this time
i know exactly how i want to be made love to

i know how
i see you
each petal a doorway into your breath
your truth
your essence, open before me

maybe, i finally understand you
the way that i understood you

before i let them in
and thought that they were the ones that would teach me who you are,
what i am



this time i know
that your petals are the butterflies
the eye-lashes
the sand buckets
red and green and yellow

with shovels
that build castles
and once again
and each time
watch
as the ocean wipes them back into its self

that is the way
that i will take you
into me

sand castles

with petals as shovels

and oceans

i carry you away

way

there is a way

this time

i will watch as the ocean surrenders to the sand castle

and i will wonder

how i ever saw it the other way around

this time

i know the way

my way

Wednesday, June 13, 2012

Today we filmed Raquel. It was a very good interview. Jim says that he wants to film a few more people and then he thinks that we should put the documentary together and send it out to the world. So, I have to be precise about who I interview and what message I want to get across. I also will begin taking classes at New TV and may buy myself a camera so that I can start filming on my own. I have a lot to learn and I can't be dependent on other camera-men forever, not if I plan on creating documentaries long-term. And that I do. Chronic documentaries may be my new condition. And it doesn't hurt!!! Amazing!

Tomorrow we will have the second part of the Art Therapy Workshop. I am sure that it will be good. And tomorrow I begin a new round of physical therapy. New hands up my vagina. Yahoo!

I would like to interview Dr. Volovska about PN and I would like to interview Dr. Jameson. I will go in tomorrow to set appointments with them. I doubt that Dr. Volovska will be able to. But maybe Dr. Jameson will. I would love to have him in the documentary. His thoughtfulness and insight would add another level to it.

I could go on forever, interviewing women. Knowing that Jim wants us to start editing and to add only a few more interviews is good in a way. It forces me to focus, one thing at a time, instead of thinking in series and projects that twine into other projects. It is good. It is a challenge. I have a lot to learn and I believe that our work will leave an impact.

I have my period. I am okay today. Hard times in every day. But doing okay. It is exciting to think about piecing something together and letting it free. I started working a year ago with Jeremy. Then for a long time I had no idea how to continue. Life was such a struggle to survive, I did not know where or what I was moving towards. Today things are much clearer, still hard, still frightening at times, but I can see the next step more clearly. That is good.

Thank you Jim for working with me on this! We have been moving along quickly. In two weeks we will interview Pat. And then we shall see....

Love,
Atara

Tuesday, June 5, 2012

I must be like one of the kittens or birds that I tried to heal but I am not sure which one. No, I am not like them. Their suffering was shorter I believe. They either died or lived. They struggled towards life or let go into death. This is so different. That is why it is so much easier for others not to hear. No one wants to know the truth. No one wants to understand that hell is a part of life. No one wants to have to feel that vulnerable, that insecure, that terrified, that desperate, that tortured.

We are left with our own destiny and with each other, determined to hold onto the strings of our lives, determined to believe that we too can weave a beautiful tapestry out of what is left of us. I will believe this until the end. I will believe this through the nights of senselessness and longing. I will believe this over and over and again and again even as I lay here stranded, my wounds drenched and pus-ridden, my insides moss-ridden and sharp...I know that I belong to this world, if only to prove it to myself that I am worthy of the blessings that it holds for me so close to its bosom, holding me up to where milk and honey flow so that I will yet know for certain that every bit of suffering was worth the price I had to pay. I hold on, I know this to be true. Suffering has taught me this.

Beauty.

Beauty.

Beauty.

is always so near

beckoning me

and i

embrace it with a ferocity that creates more of it

right, underneath, right through the warmth of my embrace

how can i give in

when i know how much lies in the earth

just waiting,

just waiting for the warm tender rays

magical wands that pull flowers

of all colors and shapes

out of

all of this

messiness


And i continue to amaze my self
in how much pleasure and delight and joy
my soul is bound to

this is what suffering has done
it has brought truth and beauty
dancers of my destiny
it has brought them to me
devoted companions that stay
warm and luscious, sensual and promising
 while suffering chisels uselessly through my cells
beauty remains, adoring sister
whispering to me "the flowers are growing now"
"the colors will be magic"
"you will dance to the beauty that you will recognize"
"the sun will embrace you and darken you"
"the wounds will once again quiet down"
"wait, sister, wait, it is happening now, soon sister, sister, very soon you will see it, you will feel it all again"

And I imagine the nights that I spent with my blond-haired, blue-eyed sister and how I took for granted that the next day would be sweet like the day that just rolled away. And I miss that so much. Sister, you are so far away now. Sister, I carry you inside my broken body now. I miss you. I want to go back to when my body was what it used to be.

And beauty sits by my side. She is no longer scared at all by suffering. She watches it. She hears its senselessness. But more then that She sings to me of colors and flowers and breasts and vaginas and thighs, warm thighs spread wide open, beckoning a lover....

"This is my sister", she says to the lover. She is clothed. I am the one soft in my nudity. "This is my sister", she whispers to the lover who is approaching me, "She is ready. She knows it all now. She is open. Take her into you and love her. She is ready for your passion. Delight in her."

And as I lay there, she turns. I tilt my head to grasp what she is looking towards. And there, before my eyes, I recognize all of my sisters, together, bending towards me. There is Passion. How I missed her. There is Love. She never left my side. And Compassion. Her gentle clothes are torn and dirtied. A soft light shines through the tears. It is the light of her body. I can see her angel beating its wings against her skin. I have learned so much from Compassion. She has been my most devoted friend. She has taught me healing. And then there is Determination and Resilience and Laughter. And they all carry their small musical instruments that they themselves have made. And Creativity smiles at me and blesses me with her warmth and her wisdom.

They are singing. They are singing.

As I take my lover into me. As I accept you, they sway and turn to greet Life. And as Life walks toward us, tired and uncertain, desperate and determined...beauty rises in embrace towards her haggled figure and She is transformed into

You and Me

Together

How I longed for you

And how you embraced all of me, suffering and all my sisters.

I love you.

The weather affects my pain level. This rainy, sticky, moist, grey yuckiness is what my body is feeling like now. I wonder if along with the earth, my body swells too, taking in the moistness, bloating with rains. The surgeon's scalpels have been scraping, slicing through my vaginal walls and deeper through my cervix all night. I feel like a rag, a damp, aching rag of a human body.
The days of warmth and sunshine were a haven and a heaven for my body. I almost felt great, I almost believed that the wound had healed and that I could march back into life with my healed and gracious body. And then the rain came and stayed and poured down and the earth kept swelling and swelling and my aching, tired body once again surrendered to the inevitable cruelty that it had escaped from for five whole days of delight.
Sleep did not come tonight. Chopped, chiseled, sliced, diced. If my body would bleed, there would be a deep puddle of dark red underneath me now. My body doesn't bleed, it keeps its suffering to itself, sharing its fate only with me.
What is left for me to do but to wait and to know that the sun will come back out, that my earth will heave and sigh underneath its warm and sensual arrival. That the plants whose flowers have been pounded away by the torrents will grow new ones. That my body will be joyful again and that it will sing again to me the way it did only a few days ago. It will once again tell me that there is so much hope for me and that there is so much beauty awaiting to unveil itself to me. I will once again believe it and I will once again feel the blessings bestowed upon me.
What else can I do, but relish, remember, give praise to those moments that now feel so foreign. And how quick the change is, like a cruel transformation from butterfly back to bug.
The knife is sharp, lodged deep inside. I imagine my legs, open, wide open with a beautiful tulip, open, wide open where my vagina is. These are the paintings that I want to paint. Bodies, open, wide open and blossoming. These are the images that help me make my way through the nights that feel  like a fight and a graveyard full of losses.
Nights of restorative sleep are for the angels. I am flesh, blood, nerves and knives.

Atara

Friday, June 1, 2012

It has been a blessed four to five days. My pain level has been low, I am smiling, my body is joyous, my gardens are growing, changing...just added sharp pink petunias to the purples and oranges and what a difference they made. The gardens look like gardens! What one color can do. These days are beautiful. Please remember them as you savor them now. Remember how real they are so that when the pain takes over you will not let go into hopelessness. Remember the joy.