I’ve been thinking about detoxification a lot this week.
detoxification (noun)
Biochemistry. the metabolic process by which toxins are changed into less toxic or more readily excretable substances.
The act of detoxifying.
I felt uneasy about using detox as the title of this blog, so I put it into an online thesaurus. But the alternatives seemed too fancy: cleansing, decontamination, reclamation. So, I looked at the antonyms of detox: contamination, impurity, decay… The list goes on, but I’m definitely in search of the opposite of that list.
Detox has been on my mind for a variety of reasons. Before putting out last week’s post, I had told several close friends about my decision. Advice flowed, as it does, and one item that kept coming up from my friends was letting myself “detox” from working life. A good friend described a period when she had packed up and left her job and city and spent time just driving around, figuring where she wanted to land. Another friend described a period when she had been on family leave and how it took her body six weeks to relax.
As I served out this last week, I spent some time pondering what life would look like the next week. When would I get up? When did I want to implement the food lifestyle change completely? How could I get more exercise? Stretching? Where could I find more fun? Were there projects that I had lying around. Did I want to continue with them?
I have no answers to any of the above questions. I can only report that I turned off my alarm clock. I’ll have to set an alarm for next Tuesday, my last working day, but I’m going to start this process by seeing if I actually have a preference for morning or night. I’m not a morning person. I’ve always said I was a middle-of-the-day person. But it seems like a good place to start this adventure.
Of course, I already had the 2024 Art on the Edge Studio Tour on my calendar, I’ve also submitted paintings to NWWS and WSO, so I’m waiting to hear back on those. The ISEA Winter members show, Making Our Marks, is up right now. I have a piece in it, and I always enjoy looking through the pieces and reading about the amazing art experiments. And I’m trying to beat the deadline (February 27) for the AAEA Exploring a Limited Palette show.
It’s early days (I mean, I haven’t even officially left yet), but I’m already starting to feel some additional peace. For instance… I painted this weekend. Nothing I’d like to show here, but I did apply paint.
A few years ago, I had an opportunity to go out to dinner with my cousins, the children of my mom’s sister. As we were eating, the topic of visiting Grandma’s (and Grandpa’s) house came up. I learned that my aunt had spent nearly the entire car ride coaching my cousins about what not to tell Grandma. I was shocked, but recounted that my mom, too, spend an inordinate amount of time cautioning me! This led to the topic of Grandma and Grandpa visiting one of our houses. We were in gales of laughter, describing the frantic cleaning, cooking, and other preparation that took place, as well as the testiness of our respective parents as “the big day” approached.
As an adult, I feel like I’ve kept a good balance between cleaning sanity and fear of judgement. I don’t keep a “white glove ready” house (I have a dog and two cats) but my house is usually tidy. I mean, you can’t eat off the floors, but who really does that? I really gave myself permission to let people see a dirty house after reading this blog post by one of my favorite authors, Stephanie Pearl-McPhee, the Yarn Harlot: Just stuff that laundry behind the piano.
I am saying that.
But my actions this weekend have told a completely different story.
As you know, I am going to Paris in JUST A FEW DAYS!!!!! To say I am excited is an understatement. While I meant to clean the house for my friends/house sitters before leaving, in my anxiety about, well, everything, I have been scurrying around, cleaning surfaces and tidying up like there is no tomorrow. I did the majority of my packing a couple weeks ago (don’t laugh) but I’ve got the suitcase and bag out, checking and rechecking that I’ve got what I need. When I’m not doing that, I’ve been working my way through a list of chores:
Mop
Laundry
Clean refrigerator
Winterize and bring in yard stuff
Clean up email in-box
Write directions
Tidy up studio area
Putting away paper
Confiscating pens
Sharpening pencils
Organizing paints
Cleaning palettes
Set up areas for people to work if they don’t want to use my desk
Trim cat and dog nails
Make sure cat and dog food is completely full
Clean garage
Put down seed in new lawn area
Finish art project
Video for latest art project
Blog post
Set out garbage
My friends won’t notice or car that I did any of this. I know that. But I want them to be comfortable while they are here, and the best way I know how is to make the house hotel-like in its cleanliness (at least in my imagination).
In other words, I’m no more sane than Mom was on this topic. Humbling.
Meet Horiya
While there has been a variety of little art things happening this weekend, the big one is that I have finished Horiya.
Finished may be a strong word. I plan to train honeysuckle over her, and until that happens, she may look a little bare. Also, the “back” side is not filled in, only h er front. She may evolve a little more as time goes on.
Too Much Blue?
One of my tasks for this weekend was to finalize my painting gear for the trip. I have a little palette that I have had good success with when doing a daily painting challenge. So, I scooped out the colors I don’t use, cleaned it up, and refilled it.
Here are the colors I’m going with, clockwise from top left:
Cobalt blue (1 pan)
Ultramarine blue (1 pan)
Burnt umber (1 pan)
Yellow ochre (1 pan)
Cadmium yellow (1 pan)
White (1 pan)
Aurorean yellow (one pan)
Naples yellow (one pan)
Opera (one pan)
Alizarin crimson (one pan)
Ultramarine blue (2 more pans)
With my travel notebooks, a couple pens, a couple pens, and travel brushes, I think I’ll be able to sketch anything that strikes my fancy.
Of course, I’ve packed other things. Clothes (boring). A travel adapter. A paperback book (real paper!) My big camera. A few other things. But I’m determined to go with one carry-on and one small bag. Determined! I’ve researched the phone system and plan to take my own phone, but swap its sim card once I’m there. So, I’m hoping to post social media pics.
Last evening, I finally accepted what had been obvious for ages. My tablet had died. The cause of death was that the power plug-in area somehow was not doing its thing, and so no cord would charge it up anymore. It took me more than a week to come to this conclusion and accept it. And accept it, I have. But I don’t like it.
I spent couple hours today at Boiler Bay State Wayside helping with whale watching week. The whales were probably there, but so far out in a rough ocean that we couldn’t spot them.
It occurred to me as I was searching for replacement options (Would a new cord work? Or is a whole new tablet necessary?) that this little tale is a pretty good microcosm of the year 2022. We finally accepted things weren’t working, pouted about it, and began searching for a replacement. Or maybe that’s just my take on things.
I’m sure I’m not the only one who has commented that the combined, emotional arch of the last three years bears a strong resemblance to the grief cycle.
Denial: March 2020 – What? Everything is cancelled? For two whole weeks? What?
Anger: Summer 2020 – Masks? Mask mandates? People not wearing masks? People taking horse wormer? The world is ending!
Bargaining: January 2021 – When we get this vaccine it will all be better.
Depression: Summer 2021 – It’s not better.
Acceptance: Summer 2022 – Whatever. I give up.
Obviously, it’s possible that this cycle was just me, but I’ve talked to a lot of folks who agree it’s been a tough few years. These same people talk about focusing on resting, reviving their mental state, and accepting the new… well, whatever we are now.
Lots of really great wave action.
For me, this year was marked by a series of solid walls that didn’t just ask me to stop, they gave me no choice. Health challenges. Changes at work. A major, clinical mental health issue in the spring. A decision to move. A significant personal betrayal that left me reeling. The death of a good friend.
Since moving to the coast, I’ve spent a lot of time resting. I have said “No, I don’t want to.” And then not done it. I’ve taken this time to NOT achieve my goals. Not finalize things. Not make everything perfect. It was a good decision that gave me the space to think about where I want to go. Of course, that doesn’t mean I actually have a direction. But I know places I don’t want to revisit.
After this post, I will post my goal results for 2022. It wasn’t a bad year; I hit a lot of my goals. But there were a few areas that could stand improvement. I’m okay with that. Tomorrow, I will post 2023 goals. I’m not promising big changes, but I am feeling more focused and confident than I have for a while. Something new is already on the horizon.
I decided to edit these photos with a filter, just for a little artistic flair.
Happy New Year, my friends. I’d love to know how you see the arc of your year.
Fallow: (of farmland) plowed and harrowed but left unsown for a period in order to restore its fertility as part of a crop rotation or to avoid surplus production.
It’s been a couple of weeks since I wrote. That has been a deliberate choice. I’m concentrating on… well, I’m not sure. To say I’m concentrating on myself is not inaccurate, but it’s really more like I’m trying to get back in touch with something.
I haven’t made art. I haven’t done NaNoWriMo. I’ve just going to work and coming home. Working on getting in my daily step count, sleep, and doing food prep. I’ve read a little. Watched some TV. But even that is subdued.
Lately when I’ve been doodling (boring meetings still happen), I have been drawn to just make long, slow lines. Over and over. To me, they look like fields. Plowed but unplanted. Fallow fields.
That’s where I am. Fallow.
I’ve toyed with the idea of crop rotation as a metaphor, but it just doesn’t have the same appeal. In fact, it feels like what I always do; just move from one thing to another and hope the nutrients come back.
Noun: Someone who loves the rain, who finds joy and peace of mind in rainy days.
I have a list of potential blog titles, and when I came across this one today, I knew it was just right. We got our first real rain in SO LONG yesterday. I swear I felt my soul take a deep breath. I took the dog out three times for rain walks, just because I needed to celebrate this little miracle.
I can’t remember when the rain stopped. No one makes a note of the last time it rained. Similarly, it can be hard to pick out where any one thing starts or ends. As Lisa Lutz says, you don’t know there’s a story until the middle. Not being an especially intuitive person, I often find the story at the end and have to piece together how it came to pass. Lately, I’ve been feeling like there is a narrative I can’t explain happening. Did it start with COVID? With working from home? With loosing key friends to moves? With the leadership changes at work? With the [no name, no details] drama that’s been playing out on personal time starting last October? Losing my long-time therapist and not finding a replacement? With the medication change this spring? The move? Or should I look back even further to Mom’s death?
Friday night I was very low. A friend (hello L) called and we chatted for a while. Eventually I admitted things were feeling pretty hard, and she asked if it was a medication issue. I’ve been pondering that as well, but I don’t think so. Usually when I’m in “dangerous” mental territory a couple things happen.
First, I am not able to let things go. Think of a non-humorous version of George Constanza‘s obsession about what he should have said. Except that it’s Everything and Anything. All the time. Running endlessly.
Second, I get irritable. This can be subtle, because, unfortunately, I am easily irritated. But when a combination of inability to let things go combines with rage about EVERYTHING, a little warning bell starts to go off.
Third, I get suicidal ideation. As I have mentioned before, this is not the same as becoming suicidal. For me, it’s when something goes wrong and instead of brushing it off, I think, “Oh, I should just die and get it over with.” Obviously, this is a complete overreaction to the situation, but it’s an overreaction that is a red flag warning about my mental state.
Currently, I am only having issues with irritability. But as I write this, I have reverted to a “normal” state after the Friday night blues. So, what’s going on? Let’s go back to my list from above.
COVID?
Working from home?
Losing key friends?
Leadership changes at work?
[no name, no details] drama?
Therapist
Medication change?
The move?
Mom’s death?
1. COVID
Regardless of what Mr. Biden says, COVID is not over. This last week I may have been exposed at work to the virus, though I have my fingers crossed that I wasn’t actually in the office at the same time as the person I think became ill. I am vaccinated and plan to get a booster shot soon. It does appear that the virus has been downgraded to a bad cold, but with my health, that can cause issues for months. Still, I no longer feel the same tension about decisions to go out into the word. Score = +1
2. Working from home
I love working from home. I go in weekly and that’s more than enough for me. Score = -1
3. Losing friends
This is an issue. COVID has not helped me to increase my social circle, and I’ve moved twice in the last three years. I need to find time to get out into the world and find some friends again. “G”, the one who moved away, was always game for a bird watching hike and “M” enjoyed a good gallery opening. Sadly, both are no longer readily available. I need to invest some energy here. Score = +1
4. Work
More about this later. Score = +10 and rising
5. NNND Drama
As of October 1, the NNND Drama is over. From here I need to work on boundaries. My first step on that is NO volunteering for ANYTHING for at least a year. L… I’m depending on you for enforcement here. Score = +4 and falling
6. Therapist
My therapist of 24 years retired last fall (October 2021) and I have yet to find an adequate replacement. During the medication change this spring, I made do with help from the Kaiser system, but their therapy feels like therapy-by-numbers approach. Forms to assess your mood. The therapist visibly checking her computer to ensure she has asked all the required question. No humor. Since then, I’ve tried to find a therapist, but most are not accepting new patients (A pandemic is stressful! Who knew?) The one therapist I did manage to make an appointment with was late for the appointment and talked a lot about herself. That’s fine for a friend, but less desirable in a therapist. I need to add finding a therapist to my list, along with finding a new doctor for when I officially change providers in January. Sigh. Service shopping. I hate it. Score = +2
7. Medication change
While I don’t think that this combination of medications will ever be as “good” as the original Paxil, I feel like things are sustainable. I’m a little more antsy on this combination, but I’ve entered the “well in myself” phase. Score = +1
8. Move
I love the beach house and living here. Score = -2
9. Mom’s death
I miss Mom daily, but I feel as though I am well out of the daily grieving process. Score = 0
Work is Stressful! Who’d a thunk it?
Clearly, work tops my list. To recap work status:
In late August 2021, the Executive Director of my agency announced she was moving on to a new position. A variety of changes have followed, and the management team today looks very different from the one a year ago. The new ED told us she was contemplating an agency reorganization, which is never fun. Then, in the “short session” of spring 2022, the Oregon legislature gave my agency a bunch of money to fund grants for fires and droughts. These are completely new programs and adding the staff and programs has been a real challenge. Everyone’s nerves are frayed, and morale is low.
I work in the “business” section of the office. Basically, it means my group does the un-sexy stuff: filing, accounting, making appointments, etc. We are the workhorses; we just plod along, hoping for a carrot or two, but not expecting much. During the course of the last year, my division has received all but NO attention. More and more things have been added, but the plan hasn’t really changed. “Just do your job,” could be our motto.
Into this environment, a new manager has appeared. She is a warm and lovely person (not just saying that) who is driving me nuts. There are two main issues for me. First, she is a Thinker and I am a Doer. Her motto is, “Let’s think about this…”; mine is, “What do you want me to DO?” While I appreciate her thoughtfulness, I want to get the task accomplished, not find the best way on the planet to do it. The second issue is harder to identify because I can’t find a name for it. The closest I can find is the difference discussed in this article. She likes to discuss the process and check in on people’s feelings; I just want to get done with the task and all this talking is slowing me down. But this still doesn’t nail the point. I rely on processes to define what I should be doing and if I’ve done it right when there is a problem; in the year she’s been there, I don’t feel like she’s learned any of the processes. Not only that, if she does encounter them, she wants to change them or “Let’s think about this….” I’m not a change-resistant person. If a process needs to change, okay, just tell me what the new process is. It’s the ambiguity that is wearing me out.
Worn out is just what I am. And with a deficient of energy to keep things in check, irritation comes to fore as a primary emotion. I demonstrably have no patience with people. So, how do I fix that?
I’ve spent the weekend thinking about this. I rested. I went to the library to get some ideas. I watched, “It Happened One Night” (hadn’t seen it before, awesome movie.) And now I’ve written this blog. What’s the answer, Choate?
I don’t know.
I’m pretty sure there isn’t a quick fix. Most of the research indicates I need to work on dealing with stress by adding scheduled self-care (meditation, yoga, walks, etc.) into my day. I need to work on my emotional intelligence skills, which are always in need of polishing. And I think I need to assess my penchant for drama.
In other words, breathe.
Sigh. Why is it never quick and easy?
Additional note: As I was reviewing my post from a year ago, where I explicitly talked about work, I realized I am in a much better physical place. I wanted to say thank you to the universe for that before moving on.
While this week was singularly lacking in art, unless you include organizing art supplies, it was a busy one. The Keizer house went on the market (lots of showing, no offers yet.) I had the pesky job to occupy me and walking the dog took up the rest of the free time. But I hit it hard this weekend and got a lot done.
While I won’t say that every area of the house it just the way I want it, the garage presented the biggest current issue. There were things that need to be sorted, cleaned, re-homed, and de-homed. It took me until lunch, but I got it tackled. A trip to Goodwill, then I tackled the craft room.
The craft room has several component and I chose to start with the office supplies. Once those were started, I went back to sorting through art supplies, focusing now on paper. In the last few weeks I had sorted and stored supplies, but paper is ALWAYS a challenge. Paintings in progress, failed paintings, paintings to be considered. Drawings. Notebooks. You get the idea. I decided to send some of the storage containers to another area and use the built-in shelves as horizontal storage space. My next step was to take some simple photo boxes that I had sitting around and turn them into bins holding the various categories of paintings. The sorting continues, but there is one problem with the arrangement.
If I fits, I sits. (Or snooze.)
Sunday, I took some time off to train the dog, then spent the rest of the day vacuuming and mopping, which is a chore I hate, and Key LOATHES. It’s so traumatizing that a nap is usually necessary afterward.
Why the vacuum, Mom? Why?
The rest of the spare Sunday time was spent doing my weekly food prep and a little bit of sorting. Sigh. I’ll probably be saying that for a long time to come.
No matter what Key says, he got lots of walks and food and attention. But I still have a feeling the weekend will be chalked up to unimpressive from his point of view.
“You are so boring, Mom.”
A little bit of art news
I got to the end and realized I had a little bit of art news, but I didn’t want to re-compose the blog.
Neither of my paintings was accepted into the Watercolor Society of Oregon‘s fall exhibition. So, 2022 will be a year without being in my “home” club’s show. While my feelings are a little hurt, looking at what I have submitted, I’m not terribly shocked. The pieces I submitted for both shows have been well outside my comfort zone. I was very successful in both 2020 and 2021, and now it’s time for a little valley. I have more to say on this topic, but that blog post is fighting me.
In case you are gasping in horror at NOT seeing my paintings, here are a few things that are coming up.
“Perfect is the enemy of the good.” ~ most often attributed to Voltaire
“Done is better than perfect.” ~ Sheryl Sandberg
I am moved. Done. Out. The Keizer house is empty, clean, and ready for whatever happens next. It goes on the market this week and fingers crossed it sells quickly. Of course, this means that the beach house (now my permanent residence…) is a mess.
Obviously, moving into a fully furnished home meant getting rid of the contents of a different fully furnished home. First, I contacted the Furniture Bank and told them they could have whatever they wanted or needed. I was surprised how much they did take (three mattress sets, two bed frames, a couch, a dresser, four small bookshelves, three simple work tables, two bedside tables, and six lamps) but I knew they wouldn’t clean me out. So, after some debate I decided to call Junk 911, which had a good service rating and said they worked to distribute items to charities who needed them. As we were chatting, I was unsurprised to learn that many charities are very picky about what they accept, but he assured me they did their best to get things distributed. Yes, I know I could have had a garage sale, but in the end, I still would have had things to take to Goodwill. This way, it was a clean sweep. In one day, it all left the house.
I would like to report that that was the end, but we all know I still had things to haul to the coast. Last weekend I made a trip on Saturday and Sunday to deal with getting the house sorted. I made another trip on Tuesday as part of my weekly “go to work” cycle. And then yesterday I rented a UHaul and brought the last of the bigger items down (my bicycle, a little outdoor bistro table, etc.) And that, as they say, is that.
Today I took Key for a walk, then picked up groceries. We saw a family of purple martins that really made my day.
Yes, it’s photoshopped.
Yes, it’s photoshopped.
Then we picked up groceries and headed back home. The rest of the day has been spent sorting through the items that I unceremoniously tossed out of the UHaul onto the lawn in the name of time, weekly food prep, and other such tasks. I’m giving myself the day to just relax. I’m not sure how I’ll tackle the various piles that lurk around the house, but everything is inside and dry and I can take it on another day.
nubilous [ noo-buh-luhs, nyoo- ] (adjective) – cloudy or foggy
Today I had made arrangements with a friend to meet and take our dogs for a walk. It has been muggy for a few days, but generally dry (okay, dry-ish.) So, we met at the park… and it promptly started raining. Sounds about like our luck. We still had a good time and the dogs didn’t care.
Nubilous also seems like a good description of my current mental state, something very much on my mind. Not in the way of “dark and gloomy” cloudy but more like “changing and could clear up.” I am delighted to report that is has now been six days (6!) since I had a breakdown. I haven’t cried, collapsed in a pile, hid under the bed, or otherwise failed to cope. There were even a few times when something annoyed or upset me and I was able to shrug and say, “Meh.” I even–queue the ticker tape parade–went to a meeting.
This week will be a bit of a test; I’ll either move ahead or have to take a step back. Of course, I know it won’t be that cut and dried, but it doesn’t prevent me from hoping.
Workshop
Monday-Wednesday of this week I will not be going to work; instead, I will be taking a workshop from Jean Pederson, who I’ve wanted to workshop for a while now. My goals for the workshop are pretty humble.
If I get overwhelmed, take a break.
Tolerate other humans for at least 6 of the total 18 hours of workshop time.
Bring breakfast and lunch and eat it.
Enjoy myself.
Learn something if I can.
This list seems extremely pitiful, but it’s where I am now. If I manage to survive the workshop, Thursday morning I have to go into the dentist for a (long-awaited) emergency appointment. I either popped out a filling or broke a tooth. It does hurt (thank goodness) but it’s sharper than all get out. After the appointment, I’d like to “return” to work, but if I get a lot of drugs I’m not even gonna try. I don’t need any more marks on my permanent record!
Jean Pederson is known as being an experimental artist, so the directions for workshop supplies have created something of a disaster in my studio this week. I’ve been gessoing over old paintings and creating some collage papers. Also, I had to order some acrylics, and the packaging for that box has been entertaining the kittens for days. I’ll try to post any worthy results (if any) over the next week.
Dentist & Work
If I don’t have meltfown over the course of this strenuous week, I will work an entire eight hours (gasp) on Friday. And then return to work full time the following week. At least, that’s the plan.
Painting
In between trashing my studio, I did actually do a little painting. I worked up these two crane paintings and started them. I’m not sure about where they are going, but at least I’m applying paint.
Shall We Dance
Sometimes You Gotta Dance
Both pieces still have masking fluid on them, so they are very rough. Long way to go.
Show News
I got a small piece of good news this week. My application to Words & Images at the Hoffman Center for Arts (aka Hoffman Gallery) was accepted.
Word & Image takes the Greek tradition of Ekphrasis — which is writing in response to art, and turns the tables to include art in response to writing. The combinations of word and image that result often reveal surprising new layers of meaning, and give both artists and writers the rare opportunity to see their art reflected in the work of another’s. Writers and artists are randomly paired and have approximately six weeks to create new work. The paired pieces are exhibited in the form of broadsides in the Hoffman Gallery and also collected in a keepsake book, both of which are for sale. Word & Image is produced in even-numbered years.
This event is similar to the Salem Reads exhibits I’ve painted for the last few years. I’m excited for June 3 when I’ll be assigned my writer!
And don’t forget, the Emerald Art Center has the lovely 16th Annual Emerald Spring Exhibition 2022 at the Emerald Art Center until the end of May.
When my parents were around, we had a bit of saying about “Choate Plan B”. Essentially, we’d make a plan (vacation, dinner, whatever) and then something would happen, and the plan would change. I think this is normal and something most groups of people face; groups of people are full of humans, and what could be more chaotic than humans?
This post is about three plans that changed.
Plan: Emerald Art Center Show
This weekend, the 16th Annual Emerald Spring Exhibition 2022 at the Emerald Art Center in Springfield opened. I drove down to the opening on Saturday night, which was lovely. Unfortunately, the trip was a marred by the fact that I had been hoping to go to dinner with some friends who had had their plans change. My friends made a point to go to the exhibit earlier in the week, and commented how lovely it was, but we didn’t get a chance to catch up over dinner. The exhibit runs from May 3 – June 3 and next Friday is the 2nd Friday Art Walk, May 13th, 5:30 – 7:30pm.
Glisten
Plan: Keizer Community Gallery Show (Brush Buddies)
Last summer I submitted a proposal for a sculpture; to my shock, the proposal was accepted (no word on when it will all come together because they are still fundraising.) During this project the head of the committee asked me if I would be interested in displaying my paintings in the Keizer Community Center (930 Chemawa Road NE, Keizer, Oregon 97303) which had room for 60 paintings. I said of course and we booked June and July for whatever show I came up with (it’s worth noting the show does need to be approved, but I don’t see that as a huge obstacle. My paintings are usually pretty “G” rated.)
With 60 paintings to come up with, I started going through my inventory of already-framed paintings. I came up with about 35; though it wouldn’t be any trouble to come up with the additional 25, the cost of framing them (assume each painting costs $100 to frame, so that’s an additional $2500 out of pocket) seemed prohibitive for a show that looks great on a resume but probably wouldn’t generate a huge number of sales. In addition, once framed, each piece would have to be carefully stored and generally looked over. So, I asked my friend, Sandra Pearce, if she’d be interested in taking the other half of the show. She went through her inventory and came up with just under 30 framed pieces, so she agreed.
Before the show can go up, we had to submit photos and an inventory, which we’ve been working on for a few weeks now. I wanted to create a theme for the show and dithered around about that for a while. But last week we turned in our paperwork, and we’ll hear back after the committee meeting in a couple of weeks. We don’t know the “load in” or “load out” dates, but it will be early June and late July. It’s hard for me not having an exact plan, but I’m managing to cope (sort of.)
Show Statement: Brush Buddies
They met at the Watercolor Society of Oregon convention and for the last ten years, Tara Choate and Sandra Pearce have avidly painted the things that captured their attention. Sometimes together, most times apart.
Tara
Sandra
As you will see by this retrospective exhibition, Sandra’s attention rests mainly on the land, but Tara is more easily distracted. While both artists focus on watercolor—a medium of endless challenges and opportunities—Tara has also provided a selection of acrylic paintings and even some works in oil.
Tara and Sandra invite the viewer to share the things that capture their attention and think about what draws your attention. The two artists each have a unique perspective and style—can you tell their pieces apart at a glance?
Tara Choate
Tara Choate paints from her home base of Keizer, Oregon. She has been painting since 2006,and was accepted into the Watercolor Society of Oregon (WSO) in 2009. While she paints primarily in watercolor, she has recently added some acrylic and collage to her repertoire.
Sandra Pearce
Sandra’s recent work includes industrial scenes, both functioning and abandoned to history, as seen in her travels to Europe and around North America. She is excited by the abstraction of space and light and shadow, and delights in the calligraphic details offered by piping, railings and ladders. This is an inspiring direction for Sandra’s growth as an artist, while still living the joy and serenity of painting nature.
Due to image resolution and file size issues, Sandra and I have chosen not to all 60 paintings on our “social media” sites; you’ll just have to swing by the Keizer Community Center (930 Chemawa Road NE, Keizer, Oregon 97303) sometime (more details to come.) I will say that I think it’s going to be a really lovely show.
Plan: Returning to Work Full Time
Last Sunday, after taking a week off and then working two weeks part time due to a medication-induced breakdown, I felt ready to return to work full-time. I was nervous about it, but I went over some guidelines and exercises and thought I was ready for a new challenge. Monday went well–I did all my health breaks including my 1-hour lunch where I got a walk with the dog and a short yoga routine. I was tired at the end of the day, but it is work and you’re supposed to be tired.
Tuesday is where it all fell apart. The State of Oregon has reopened their offices, and most employees have been asked to return to on site work at least one day a week. Before all this happened, my boss and I had decided Tuesdays would be a good day to come in, and so on Tuesday I made my way to the office. I carefully packed good food and decided to take the dog, who could hang out in the car (underground parking, very cool, with a nice water bowl); Key would be a good excuse to make sure I took breaks. We got to work 45 minutes early and took a walk around the grounds, which really are lovely, spotting three different types of warblers along the way (okay, honestly, I was more excited about this than Key, but I think he had a good time.) After the walk, I “arrived” and went to a cubicle to set up and get going.
Things started to go downhill immediately. The cubicle I had checked out was available, but the docking station would not recognize my computer. I changed cubicles but that didn’t change the results. I went over various plugs and lines, thinking I must be missing something; this had worked the last time I was in. Thirty minutes later I was completely frustrated, told the office manager about the issue, put in a ticket to IT, and proceeded to TRY to do some work on my laptop (and only my tiny… little… laptop.) My initial plans for the day had required use of the side-by-side screens and a few other things, so I shifted gears.
Then the parade of people started, I work with lovely people, and I enjoy the company of (almost) all of them. For two years, all of us have seen digital versions of each other, but I think we can all agree that SEEING someone face-to-face is different. Quite a few people were in the office (maybe a dozen?) and people said hi to me and to each other. Conversations and catch-ups filled the air. People got sticky notes and cursed at the copier. All normal, except… it’s not normal anymore. I got increasingly tense, even though I had brought earphones and went down to see the dog at regular intervals. I completely lost sight of taking care of myself. I was following the plan, darn it. The plan was to take breaks with the dog and work in between. And I was going to do it or die trying. (Reality note: No one would have blinked if I had gone home at lunch, or even admitted it was too much.)
I saw this book on my Facebook feed and it spoke to me. I’m naturally an introvert and the last two years has only enhanced that. It shouldn’t have been shocking to find that being asked to work in an environment with a dozen people would be an adjustment. It probably shouldn’t have been rocket science that catching up with friends and hearing about their losses over the last couple of years would be disturbing.
I joke a lot about how difficult humans are to understand. But I probably need to remember that it’s not always a joke and that other people deal with it too.
My boss and I had a check-in in the late afternoon, and as you can imagine, I was well past seeing the forest (objective of taking it easy) for the trees (plan of working all day in the officr). All thoughts of being kind to myself, of taking breaks (I did go down to walk the dog regularly, but as the day progressed, those walks felt more like marches), and being aware of my mental state had vanished. I was in blind tunnel of “just make it through.” I walked into the meeting and my boss asked me if I was enjoying seeing everyone again. I said, “NO!” And here is where my boss gets the first of her two kudos. She looked at me, now rigidly sitting in a chair across from her, and said, “Maybe we should do this when you’re not so… tired.” I got up and stomped back to my cubicle. And cried for the rest of the day. But, by gum, I made it to the END OF THE DAY.
Honestly, I can’t quite figure out what prevented me from seeing that I had moved beyond a healthy space. Part of it is that at 8:30 when I was frustrated and frazzled with the computer stuff and I heard my little voice say, “Maybe it’s time to call it a day?”, industrious worker me scoffed and said, “You’ll never cope if you can’t even make it an hour.” And after that, everything felt like something that should have been no big deal, and I would DEAL WITH IT.
I made it home that evening and checked in with “L” (love you, L); as you may remember, L is my mental safety buddy and is specifically tasked with saying things like “Dial 911”, “Call Emergency”, and “Go to the urgent care.” She listened to my story and said, “I think you went back to work too soon.”
This information floored me. I had taken three weeks off. I had a plan. It SHOULD have been alright.
The next morning, I went into work and there was an email from my boss saying we should reschedule our check in. Within an hour, we were video conferencing. And here is the second kudo. Without preamble, my boss said, “Tara, I care about you and I’m worried about you. I think you came back too quickly. Mental health is nothing to fool around with.”
And I started crying again. She was right, but there was a PLAN! “I don’t know what to do,” I sobbed.
Within a few minutes we agreed that I would take the rest of the day off to do doctor stuff and to decompress. Then I’d return to work half time for the rest of the week and next week. Implied in the conversation is that we’d reassess as necessary.
So, my friends, I am back on medical leave. Choate Plan B. C? D?
