V's Version

One of the things that I love best about making a quilt is doing the research for it. I end up learning about different cultures and time periods and color theories and artistic styles. Sometimes, as in Beyond the Sixth, the history is placed directly into the finished product. Sometimes, as in the quilt that I began researching in earnest today, the finished product will only have a hint of the research. I look forward to learning about the Nepali people and landscape. I have already learned more than I knew about Mount Everest and Buddhism and I have no idea where the quilt will take me.

Today, I handed over my most recent quilt (Sweet Sixteen) to the mother who commissioned it. She is an aquaintance (a neighbor with whom I had had maybe three brief interactions) who happened to be evangelical christian. I researched the churches where she and her daughter, for whom the quilt was commissioned, attend. I put pockets made from her clothing on the quilt so that her family can place prayers inside. I used the symbolism of the cross. I tried to honor images that meant something to them because I am trying to be a conduit for the quilt - letting the process unfold in a way that will ultimately be good. In any event, she liked it and that means a lot to me.

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On another subject ENTIRELY - does anyone out there know anything about manga comics, anime, horror cartoons and / or children's sci fi with somewhat feminist story lines? How about story lines that are not offensive or vulgar? I'm having a dreadful time finding a way to compromise with Pk and his taste for entertainment that depicts violcence.....waaaaaaaaaaa

Sweet Sixteen Quilt

Labels: art quilt crazy pink commission gift sweet sixteen birthday mother daughter tshirt memory photograph scrap

In the same way that I am grateful for being an incest survivor because it allows me to have empathy for all people in pain, I am grateful for being a drug addict so that the gray area of recreational using is removed entirely, leaving in its wake a clean and sober joi de vivre.

I am who I am as a direct result of the sum total of my experiences. I would not take any one of them away.

In that same vein, thank heavens that I have cancer! Cancer has brought people into my world that I otherwise would not know as intimately and my life is much richer for knowing them. This richness has texture, however, and it's not always smooth. It's not always easy.

But let me back up. Take, for example, The Chemo Experience. I have no idea how many hours I spent in those comfy brown lazy-girl recliners hooked up to some liquid or other. 2000 hours? 3200? Let's just say that fighting cancer and PNP was a full-time job for a few years and I spent a lot of time at the office along with my co-workers.

Sign-in was at 8:30 in the morning where I was almost always greeted with a bright smile from Sharon. She was the first line of compassion, noting some small improvement in me: had I gained a little weight? Was that a new hat? What a fun outfit! or meeting my weakness with witness: Oh, Dear, poor thing. I don't like it when I can't sleep either! Good for you for hanging in there... Sharon was like Every Mom - welcoming, business-oriented, efficient and consistent. I tried to check in before John (my fellow co-worker and a suspected former CIA Agent) because he had a needle phobia. In our new line of work, this was a time-consuming hazard and it was just easier to get there before John so that Cici or Anna could get me into through the lab first.

The Lab. The second line of compassion. These were the gals who knew each ounce of change, each point of movement in blood panel counts. They knew whether I was up or down or tired or happy or in pain or struggling. They saw, even if it was for the few minutes that it took to stick me with a needle, the roller coaster that is battling cancer. But it wasn’t a one-way street. I knew about them too – their commute, their families, their dreams, their weekends. The Lab was where I got my news, both medical and social.

After being weighed and poked and patched, I was sent on to The Chemo Room, my arms laden with the two-inch thick tome that was my charted battle progression. some days I was not strong enough to carry the chart but Anna brought it down for me. That's how it was there. Everyone pitched in and made my life just that little bit easier.

The Chemo Room was the very heart of Compassion. A 15 x 15 room of goodness, pain, laughter, tears, complaints, fear and hope comprised of a semi-circle of plush light brown recliners. The main features of the room were an over-sized handmade quilt made from hundreds of 2 inch square pieces of 1970s calico cotton fabrics and a large wall of windows. The windows overlooked the lush green garden below and trees that block any view of houses in the quiet residential neighborhood. If I had to be connected to a bag of poison (and I did), it was a bonus to have such a lovely view.

My co-workers filled the recliners as the morning progressed. Some of us were there for a short part of the day, some of us for longer. Eventually, we got to know each other and we all knew the nurses. We had our favorites and they were all so incredibly different. Ruth, who left early on in my career, was earnest and sympathetic, friendly and professional. Maria, who came late in my career, was honest and funny and more hard-working than most in the line of nurses who proceeded her.

Then there were the nurses who were there for the whole day in and day out ride, year after year. They are the ones who will always and forever be on my gratitude list. They were the angels, the listeners, the calm, knowledgeable sisters of kindness and chemicals. Becky wore her heart on her sleeve. She was quick to laugh and unafraid to cry at the appropriate times. She was always good for some tidbit of interesting news – the kind of stuff that made it worth showing up for our own reality show. Rita was the mother of 5 young boys and had the iron hand of an expert. She used big words and gave a more-details-are-better girl like me a run for my money. What would we have done without them?

I’ve spoken about the doctors in past posts. For better or for worse, I have never known such out-there rock and roll doctors. They gave out their cell phone numbers and celebrated every victory. They met us in the hospital and told us to never, ever give up. They openly supported causes worth supporting and opposed those who would take away civil liberties and funding for cancer research. They hugged patients and looked people in the eye and took Tamales and chickens for payment when that was all the payment there was. Tal and Jenny are the most unorthodox try-anything duo around.

But it wasn’t the doctors or the nurses or the lab clinicians or the hand-working staff that were the capital M Magic for me. Magic came in the form of the beautiful, crazy, brave souls sitting next to me. My co-workers.

And that is where I started with this post. Richness. Intimacy.
Gratitude. I will not forget the raunchy humor and boyish charm of Vern who showed up in his totaled Beemer, dressed in a jean jacket heavy with a twenty years worth of buttons and pins. He is gone now but I will not forget him. I will not forget the sheer courage and determination of Sue who inspired me to keep going when I did not want to go on. She modeled gratitude for me in poignant and understandable ways. She told me that so long as there was art to see and family to love, she wanted to fight. She is gone now, but I will not forget her.

Jim, who brought music mixes and the power of the pen to my life, was there with me every step of the way and continues to be. We started sitting in the chairs at about the same time and, although his cancer was in his throat and radiation was his demon, we lost pound after pound next to each other. We watched our clothing start to loosen and then bag. We took turns making each other laugh. We shared stories of our children and our wives. We shared experience, strength and hope. He gave me something no one else could: someone who discovered the journey right alongside of me.

Yesterday, Jim and I went to UCSF to see another of our co-workers who is back in the thick of it. Bob greeted us with a surprised smile and a weary look in his beautiful blue eyes. He doesn’t know how many genie wishes he has left, this being his second bone marrow transplant to beat leukemia. I used to say that I had to put on my Happy Mask to make it through the day. I can only imagine what it must take to tough out so many weeks in the hospital under lock-down, neutropenic conditions.

All I could offer were wild stories of sex parties and news of my cousin’s entry into the NFL and a foot massage to try to alleviate the numbness of neuropathy. Jim brought chocolates, a bag of goodies from Bob’s wife (who isn’t allowed in the room until her cold has passed) and news from the outside. We gave him a handmade Valentine that reminded him of love and light but I am not sure that it reached through the fog of his current physical weakness. The impending fight is going to take all of what he has and maybe even more than he has. Sometimes reserves are available to us and sometimes, they just aren’t. Only time will tell.

And that is where the richness and texture of my friendships are not always smooth and easy to touch. I am both inspired and raw with sadness. How is it that Jim and I get to drive away from the transplant unit and Bob doesn’t? How is it that I cannot take away this fight for him? Hasn’t he given enough dues? Will he be another one of my co-workers that I have to say “He is gone now but I will not forget him”?

Sigh. More will be revealed. All I can do is rub his feet and make him laugh and hear his fear. All I can do is be grateful that cancer brought us all together.

On the Fence for 2008....

I could not have said it better - the GLBTQ community has some decisions to make:

Bumper stickers I could chuckle at if it weren't so tragic:

1/20/09: End of an Error

That's OK, I Wasn't Using My Civil Liberties Anyway

Let's Fix Democracy in This Country First

If You Want a Nation Ruled By Religion, Move to Iran

You Can't Be Pro-War And Pro-Life At The Same Time

Bush Regime: Creating the Terrorists Our Kids Will Have to Fight

Impeachment: It's Not Just for Infidelity Anymore

America : One Nation, Under Surveillance

Which God Do You Kill For?

Who Would Jesus Torture?

No, Seriously, Why Did We Invade

We're Making Enemies Faster Than We Can Kill Them

The Republican Party: Our Bridge to the 11th Century

I had one of my Michigan Dreams last night. I have Mich dreams often - more often than any other themed dream. In the dream, Dani and I were getting ready for the wedding reception, running around picking up last minute items. It was hectic. We stopped at a grassy green rest stop off the side of the road just to get off the highway rat race. While in the restroom, Dani and I were kissing near the sinks (I love my life! I dream my life and live my dreams!) and then we saw a fest worker (a combo of womyn actually). We were surprised because she seemed out of place in this strange rest stop and, in real life, it wasn't going to be possible for her to come to the party. Then we were surprised again to see another fest worker and then another. They were all on the way to our party, coincidentally stopping to pee and freshen up. It was so joyous! The end of the dream was a huge long line of womyn - young and old - arms intertwined at the shoulders - dancing and singing "Woman am I - Blessed am I - I am the infinite within my soul - I have no beginning and I have no end - all this I am..."

A direct quote from Pk in his comfy position on the couch, plumped up with the pillows I just finished making out of Brook's Thai silk, surrounded by narrow dogs and smiling in the light of the new reading lamp Dani found: "Mama! Come look at me! This is the way to live! Especially with a good book - I just lay down and I'm already done - it goes by that fast!"

Bestill my heart.

It's Dani's night in the city and I feel like I finally have a minute to write. Pk is just starting his new book but I won't have time to get back to the "Sweet 16" quilt before it's time to put him to bed. The quilt is very pink. Maybe too pink. I'm thinking about it for a while....letting it settle.

For his movie (it is movie night, after all!) Pk and I watched two episodes of the 1979 first season of Mork and Mindy with Robin Williams and Pam Dawber (?). It was perfect for Pk's humor and will give him all kinds of new vocabulary words to make the kids at school laugh. He loves to make kids laugh! Shazbot and nanooo!

Today was my day to help with math in the classroom. Much of the time I was running to and from the front office to either sharpen pencils (there seems to be one working pencil sharpener in the school) or to make copies of worksheets for the kids who couldn't find their copies (there seems also to be only one workbook). It made me wonder how much gets done in classrooms where all the kids have their own workbooks or in classrooms where the teacher has their own desktop copy machine or why they ever did away with the manual pencil sharpener in favor of mechanical ones that break down so easily? What a difference the little things make!

I love being with the kids though. I love it. Between my all too short time with the fourth graders and my recent visit with a four month old (who spoke perfect Napali dophin), I am aware of how much I want a larger family. Niether Dani nor I don't think it would be wise at this point and so we won't have one - but if my health were more certain or if Dani was more tolerant of chaos - I would adopt or bring foster children into our home in a heartbeat. Some people are cut out for parenting and others aren't. I belong in the group of the former. In addition to our two whippets, we are housesitting a third dog (our Amica's brother) plus caring for Mr. Pause (the cat) but I have to say that, for me, animals just are not the same as children. I don't get them.


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Things are heating up in the party planning department. We figured out a few things this weekend: the theme is "love in the redwoods" and we will decorate with candles, recycled paper hearts and lichen-covered branches from our very own redwood cathedral here in Felton. Dani and I are hopelessly mushy romantics so why not? It looks like vanilla genois with rasberry and lemon, tiramisu sans rum, moist carrot cake and Russian vegan chocolate in the cake department. For music, there is our pianist friend Carol (a sister battler of cancer) who will play standards (not sure whose standards exactly but she knows different things - show tunes and jazz and contemplative...), our friend Woody who is a local folk singer and our friend Nedra who is - well - phenomenal (you can hear for yourself!) She is a personal part of the sountrack of our relationship so I am incredibly honored to have her come. After the live music, Dandypants (who DJed most of the Zone events in 06) will see if she can mix it up (I am sure she can!) and the party will wind down just in time for folks to either hit the town or hit the sack - depending on their speed!

We weren't going to get into "real" food but Dani says that we cannot offer only poison and expect good results. Luckily, we found a fantastic alternative to the supermarket deli department. We are going to be able to tap into the winter survival campaign of the Western Service Worker's Association. They are having a Tamale Benefit and we will all win! Authentic Mexican tamales with all the money going to help families in the most dire circumstances to organize themselves. I LOVE how things work out!

I look forward to so many different kinds of people gathering on one place - old friends and family, dykes and trannie boyz from fest, office co-workers of Dani's, other parents and children Pk's age, young adults who used to be in the church youth group and folks from church. I feel like it's an excuse to share the love that Dani and I have for each other. We are so blessed and happy and in love that it just seems natural (to me) to want to spread it around. If people could have just a little of the magic we have - if they could take it and spread it around at their office, their spiritual community, their school or family - wouldn't the world be better for it? And so many people have helped to get me here. I want to thank them all at the same time.

We are both getting nervous though - Will there be enough food? Will there be easy mingling?
Will the children have enough to do? Will it rain? All of those normal wedding reception questions. I guess we must be on the right track. It looks like it will be quite a crowd and I am stoked!

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And as a final thought for today (for it is bedtime and Pk has read 6 chapters), I wanted to say that I have taken to consciously praying for all those who hate us (as women, as lesbians, as feminists, as Americans, as white, as sexually open, as different.) I pray for those who do not understand us - or who would do us harm in any way. If those people had more love and compassion in their hearts - if they were able to live their highest dreams of goodness - who knows what could happen?

I am so inspired by Jill Sobule's song "Hall of Fame" (listen to it!) I realize that she is satirical but the power of the song is in it's truth.

Thanks for sticking around - even when mothering and quilting make the words take a back seat.

Happy New Year!
Current mood: happy

I'm dashing in from the studio on a momentary break for coffee. I decided to wish everyone a Happy New Year while I was at it.

To say that I have been busy just doesn't cut it. The web site is back up (thanks to Mr. Techie), the Sweet 16 quilt panels are moving along and the holidays were a blast x 13! We celebrated Solstice, Chanukah, Christmas and New Years in grande style. We also fit in a honeymoon right here at home. Pk was in New England and Disney World with his father so Dani and I fit in as much newlywed mischief as possible while still managing to get our work done!

I LOVE my life!

Oh! We just found out that Nedra Johnson is going to grace our little cake reception with her music! (check out her music if you haven't already!) We are psyched! Now all we have to do is plan the rest of it.

Let me know if you didn't get an invite - somehow we managed to miss a few people or didn't have proper emails- sorry.

Here's to a brilliant 2007 - with hopes for peace, reconciliation and dancing for all!