Painting 2 cancers

Breast Cancer Awareness Month-Help me Give Back?

2011-10-12T16:30:00.006+02:00

On the right is Alisa Savoretti, founder of My Hope Chest, whom I met at the opening of F**K the big C! last month.

Own a signed print by me and help me raise $500---almost there, need a push---this October to help breast cancer survivors afford a reconstruction via My Hope Chest!
It's Breast Cancer Awareness Month----hence I'm aware of one of my two cancers and thankful for all positive happenings I got in its aftermath. Should you or your contacts be thinking of donating to a breast cancer cause, how about this one? :)

Time to give back! Will You help?

Available prints are on F**k the big C!

We made it! Thank You all! A check is in the mail to My Hope Chest! (Nov. 9)

Impressions of F**k the big C!

2011-09-21T17:02:00.027+02:00

signing my pieces upon arrival at the eve-N-odd gallery, 9/7

NBC Daytime TV interview autocue, Gallerist Jennifer Kosharek and I were interviewed 9/8

NBC interviews F**K the Big C from William Evertson on Vimeo.

show at eve-N-odd

my pieces on the wall

Branka Djordjevic and Betty Esperanza's pieces on the wall

showtime!

Ria Vanden Eynde Acrostic Poetry from William Evertson on Vimeo.

opening night, at the end already .... I'm sitting next to the donations jar, for the postcard donations of the mini F**k the big C! mail art call I attached to this show. We raised $200 on opening night. Thank You all Participating Artists!

Raffi Darrow, volunteer at My Hope Chest and Alisa Savoretti, founder of My Hope Chest and me, in front of my pieces at the show. For each sold print, I will donate $40 to this NPO, focusing on funding Breast Reconstruction surgery for uninsured breast cancer survivors. They are the ONLY national organization providing this "final step in breast cancer treatment"

Many Thanks go to my Seeking Kali collaborator and friend William Evertson for printing, preparing the prints, shipping, traveling to the show, hanging the show, assisting in every thinkable way, documenting and all his and his wife Karen's support!! I could not have done it without Bill! Love You Both!

Press:
-daytimeonline.tv: Telling Cancer Where To Go
-St.Petersburg Times: defiant Art: F the big C by Lennie Bennett, 9/8.
-Creative Loafing, F**k the big C!
-All Events in St. Petersburg, F**k the big C!
-The Tampa Bay Newspapers: Beacon, Leader, Bee, Just 4 Women by Lee Clark Zumpe, September 2011.

This is a section out of the Tampa Bay Newspapers: Beacon, Leader, Bee.

- The Island Reporter, October 2011 issue, p. 9 and p. 21.

-On eve-N-odd's blog 'Ria Vanden Eynde and My Hope Chest'.

-On Bill Evertson's blog: 'Post F**k Cancer'.

-On Caroline's Breast Cancer Blog: 'Creatively Coping'.

Purchase one of my pieces here and help me fund a reconstruction for a breast cancer survivor via My Hope Chest!

F**k the Big C! Getting Packed!

2011-08-30T13:51:00.009+02:00

Getting Ready, Getting Excited! Hope to see you there!

Next week I will be in FL opening the F**k the big C! (He)Art's Healing Power group art show at eve-N-odd gallery, 645 Central Ave #11, St. Petersburg, FL.

So why the F word? It's simple enough for me:
-I have no reason to be polite to cancer. It hasn't been courteous towards me, neither of the two times it struck. Using the F word in a show title can be educating. When we are confronted with our impotence, using expletives may help us vent our humongous frustration. The ** reflect the energy it's used with ;)
-Don't you find it heart wrenching how policies will allocate big funds to kill people off in conflicts and war while we have a hard time struggling to get funds for something life sustaining as cancer research?
-Wouldn't it be awesome if eradicating cancer from our bodies would be as simple as saying "F**k You Cancer"?
-I have cancer, bloody hell, I have two, three actually if you're counting types! One of then NOT under control and, well, are they ever? Still, they sure will not have my spirit as long as I'm breathing. They will not have me. That and mainly that is how I give (my) cancer(s) the middle finger.

F**K THE BIG C! is for all those who went through it, for all those who're going through it, for all those who live with it, and for all those who were taken from us by the disease.

Jennifer Kosharek, eve-N-odd gallerist and myself will be interviewed by NBC's local morning show Daytime ... this Thursday morning so please tune in! Check out the article in Creative Loafing HERE. Then I'll be at the eve-N-odd gallery Thursday 9/8, from 6-8 pm, 645 Central Ave. #11, St. Petersburg, FL 33701. Delicious food catered by Courtside Grille! And some pink drink! I hope to see you there!

painting2cancers for My Hope Chest at F**k the big C! September, eve-N-odd, St. Petersburg, FL

2011-07-28T17:13:00.012+02:00

Poster for the F**k the big C! group show, free downlad via riavandeneynde.com

I organized a group show F**k the big C! with gallerist Jennifer Kosharek at her gallery eve-N-odd, 645 Central Avenue #11, St. Petersburg, FL 33701, USA in September. Art will include works by cancer survivors Betty Esperanza (Canada), Branka Djordjevic (Luxemburg) and myself, Ria Vanden Eynde (Belgium). F**k the big C! opens September 8 at 6pm with live performances and runs through September.

Donations go to local cancer support projects, including $40 of each of my prints sold to My Hope Chest, a Tampa based NPO helping uninsured breast cancer survivors afford breast reconstruction surgery. Signed prints (they're all on the above poster) will also be available for pre-order through summer here.

There is a Mail Artist Call attached to this show, mail artists can send a F**k the big C! 4×6 postcard to the gallery to be put up. Visitors can take one home in exchange for a donation ($5 suggested). The postcard donations go to the American Cancer Society Benjamin Mendick Hope Lodge in Tampa. Also, email a jpg of the card to fckthebigc@yahoo.com and they will be documented on the blog Art on the Road and fckthebigc.tumblr.com.

The show was the idea of Jennifer Kosharek, gallerist at eve-N-odd. She suggested doing a group show after we discussed sending my painting2cancers pieces to her gallery. I dreamt of donating part of my sales to a cancer support organization. Jennifer suggested I'd co-curate the show. So I contacted two of my cancer survivor artist friends, Branka Djordjevic (Luxemburg) and Betty Esperanza (Canada), who were immediately won over by the idea of doing a group show to raise awareness and inspire. We feel that although we are changed by going through cancer and so is our individual art making practice, we emerge as stronger women and artists. We feel enriched by the experience and are dedicated to Live our Art Life to the fullest. That's how we're giving cancer the middle finger and that's what inspired the show's title.

While I was browsing on the web and facebook for groups and pages that would allow us to post our event, I came across My Hope Chest and its founder Alisa Savoretti. They immediately struck a chord. When I was dxd with cancer I was doing research in Applied Ethics at the university on a voluntary basis, trying to get funded. Had I not been married, I would have been on my own and I would not have been able to get a bilateral reconstruction. At that time, I was reluctant to go through yet another surgery. I was even considering having the amputations and nothing else, thinking having breasts would not be so important ... It is huge! Having 2 cancers may have changed me. My thyroid cancer marker suggests that there is residue tissue that needs to be monitored and I carry quite some lines on my body. Yet, when I look in the mirror, when I look at my new breasts, I see a radiant woman. That's what having a reconstruction did for me. Wouldn't it be wonderful if my donations could help do that for another woman?

riavandeneynde.com
fckthebigc.tumblr.com
myhopechest.org
facebook event F**k the big C! Three sistahs spread Cancer Awareness.

Inner landscape # 17-Confusion

2011-07-07T19:26:00.011+02:00

Digital print, 8 by 10 inches.

On Monday I went to my annual thyroid cancer check up. Summer 2010, they had done a thyrogen test and my Tg was 3.5. Not where we want it. There have been 3 such tests and my Tg sort of fluctuates up and down. Made a seasoned oncologist say that I had absolutely no reason whatsoever to think there would be anything lingering after my thyroidectomy and a firm dose of 100mCi RAI. Almost deridingly so. In my face. While I was sitting in front of him just out of breast cancer (my second cancer) surgery. Bilateral amputations for a cancer they didn't expect at all to be lingering. Anyway. Bygones. This last time my Tg is up. My ultrasounds are clear. No reason for panic. Must keep an eye on. That summer they didn't call me to tell me my results. So I went in for them and to ask what the new follow up strategy was going to be like. I had made a special appt for that. Hey?! ... They said they wouldn't do regular thyrogen testing, and wait&see what the marker does while surpressed. That was a bit surprising, since anyone I know with comparable cancer givens has yearly thyrogen tests done, ultrasounds and some have scans. So I asked again, to be sure. No, not scheduled. 'Will cancer manifest itself while surpressed then?' I ask, 'should anything be lurking.' They nodded. Makes sense. Why would cancer obey rules, wildly as it grows. Still, maybe faster than they would expect? No reason for concern, they said. Of course unexpected things can't be predicted, like my cancer morphing into something less treatable, after being bombarded once with RAI. Possible. Can't say. Had bloodwork done to see if my Tg had lowered again after the test. Was interested to know. Results can't be found anywhere in the system. I must be mistaken. No blood sample was taken. Huh? Hey?! This Monday the supervisor comes in after talking to the assistant who saw me (10 minutes) and says, 'we're scheduling a thyrogen test for you in 6 months. Not now, there's a problem with thyrogen supply coming in from the US' ..... Huh? Can anyone follow? I can't. But I'm so baffled that I go home carrying the schedule of thyrogen shots in my bag. Today I phoned to go back in so as to unravel all inconsistencies they threw at me. If that's what it takes for me to get my barings, I'll do it. Hey?!

This image is done using a photo of the trees outside my hospital window when I was in there for my breast cancer surgery. The trees reminded me of a Greek Chorus in Greek tragedy, a homogenous, non-individualised group of performers, who comment with a collective voice on the dramatic action. They were there to offer a variety of background and summary information to help the audience follow the performance. In many of these plays, the chorus expressed to the audience what the main characters could not say, such as their hidden fears or secrets. The chorus often provided other characters with the insight they needed.

F**K THE BIG C! Fall! FL!

2011-06-06T17:02:00.020+02:00

Free downloadable posters at riavandeneynde.com

Gallerist/Artist Jennifer Kosharek and I are organizing a group show F**K the big C! next September at Jennifer's gallery eve-N-odd with works by Betty Esperanza, Branka Djordjevic and myself. We're showing how cancer affects our individual art making practice while doing our small bit for raising cancer awareness.

Betty Esperanza, Branka Djordjevic and I will show works at the eve-N-odd Gallery, 645 Central Avenue #11, St. Petersburg, FL 33701, USA in September this year. We plan a long summer of promoting the show so as to make it count beyond a gallery exhibition, to get the message across that while we are changed by cancer and so is our individual art making practice; we emerge as stronger women and artists. All three we feel enriched by the experience and are decided to Live our Art Life to the fullest. That's how we're giving cancer the middle finger.

F**K THE BIG C! show runs through September, opens September 8 with live performances, Gallery Walk on September 10. Donations go to local cancer support projects. I will be showing pieces of my blog painting2cancers and have made signed prints available for pre-order here. For each sold piece, $40 will be donated to My Hope Chest, a Tampa based npo helping uninsured breast cancer survivors afford breast reconstruction surgery.

-My Hope Chest, presented by its founder Alisa Savoretti,

on abc action news-

Want to support us too ? Send a F**K THE BIG C! postcard to the gallery before September and we will put it up! Visitors can take a card home in exchange for a donation of their choice! (suggested $5 donation). Mail me a jpg of your card at fckthebigc(at)yahoo(dot)com and it will be documented on my blog Art on the Road and on fckthebigc.tumblr.com

F**K THE BIG C! is for all of us who went through it, for all of us who're going through it, for all of us who live with it, and for those among us who've passed away.

Sistahs! Join me in the Medusa Gaze Guerrilla Projections!

2011-05-31T14:22:00.025+02:00

©William Evertson, my photo in projection.

Yesterday I got cornered and verbally harassed by a really crass guy in town. It's not the first time neither. This guy made some very crude remarks about my 'breasts'. I, baffled, looked down my dress thinking a button got undone and my scars are on display, because, after the reconstruction, I'm sensitive to that. But all is clear. So I looked straight at the guy, said 'thx for that' and added in my mind 'for ure rudeness, u moron', gave him my Medusa Gaze, which stops dogs (!) in their tracks when they fiercely run towards me, carefully maneuvered passed him and walked away, still shaky.
I was still thinking over what happened as I angrily trimmed our garden hedge. I realized I actually thought I was off those guys' radar being more mature, with a scar on my neck and both breasts amputated. I must have dropped my guard somewhat. Silly cos in the mirror, I see a radiant woman. In the meanwhile I had also told my SeekingKali collaborators about it. Susan Shulman suggested a blog and Bill Evertson made me the above image, thereby creating a project:

The Seeking Kali Medusa Project.
DVD projections from the back of a van.
Pictures of women and the words 'I will not be intimidated'.
An unannounced guerrilla piece.

Bill told me there are a couple of artists that do this type of guerrilla projection. There has f.i. also been some of that going up on Chinese consulates with Ai Weiwei's picture. He explained it's about driving up somewhere and projecting until police show up to get rid of the 'nuisance', rightly remarking that this kind of art-action probably addresses the 'silence' in societies (!) about this kind of harassment well ...

If my Sistahs feel spoken to: Join me in a Guerrilla Projection Raging Against Sexual Harassment. Help us make a Visual Tag to Claim our Right to Walk Freely and Safely in our Cities!
How to participate:
Send us your 15 to 20 seconds video file or jpg of your gaze, no text, no name, no photo manipulation, just your icy stare. For uniformity, standing like I am and cropped the same way. We will add the text ‘I will not be intimidated’ to it and add it to the projection loop. We will accept images throughout the Summer 2011. We plan projections beginning in Fall and will document them online.
Send your images & video files to seekingkali(at)yahoo(dot)com
The Medusa gaze Project is on tumblr: medusagaze.tumblr.com

Impermanence

2011-05-24T20:47:00.009+02:00

Self portrait, photo. It's 5 years now, post cancers. Changed.
(with this photo, I won the Photo Essay Competition by dearthyroid.org)

Change
(a poem by Kathleen Raine)

Change
Said the sun to the moon,
You cannot stay.

Change
Says the moon to the waters,
All is flowing.

Change
Says the fields to the grass,
Seed-time and harvest,
Chaff and grain.

You must change
Said the worm to the bud,
Though not to a rose,

Petals fade
That wings may rise
Borne on the wind.

You are changing
said death to the maiden, your wan face
To memory, to beauty.

Are you ready to change?
Says the thought to the heart, to let her pass
All your life long

For the unknown, the unborn
In the alchemy
Of the world's dream?

You will change,
says the stars to the sun,
Says the night to the stars.

La Muse*

2011-05-09T15:34:00.008+02:00

-Modified image of Pablo Picasso's La Muse, 1935-

Been a while since I modified a painting a la Banksy ;) and I went for a Picasso this time. Ha! Not the obvious 'Les demoiselles d'Avignon,' but 'La Muse,' the muse. Significant title, after all, the body is most inspiring. I wonder what he'd have done with une amputée-model.

Spectre

2011-04-16T15:22:00.005+02:00

Photo, self portrait.

I look for me

a poem by Marjoleine de Vos

So if I am my body

not a princess in a tower, no butterfly

unfolding from its cocoon

biology my existence, blood

breath, bowel and lung and all those toes-

how is it then that I hardly know them

the half drowned liver, the industrious kidney

that I stay ignorant of the daily struggle

in heart and carotid, the effort in my skull

for me alone while I

remain inside blindfolded

deaf for synaptic labor and neuron power

talk of my soul and bang on doors

the body closed that claims my actions

attacks me flatters and seduces me, makes me shiver

and sing and that I am, so they say.

(translated by me from Dutch to English)

Inner Landscape #16-Depth

2011-04-01T16:33:00.007+02:00

Digital print from a pastel on newspaper paper,

the original pastel has been destroyed, 12 by 17 inches.

The Shape of Death

What does love look like? We know

the shape of death. Death is a cloud

immense and awesome. At first a lid

is lifted from the eye of light:

there is a clap of sound, a white blossom

belches from the jaw of fright,

a pillared cloud churns from white to gray

like a monstrous brain that bursts and burns,

then turns sickly black, spilling away,

filling the whole sky with ashes of dread;

thickly it wraps, between the clean sea

and the moon, the earth's green head.

Trapped in its cocoon, its choking breath

we know the shape of death:

Death is a cloud.

What does love look like?

Is it a particle, a star -

invisible entirely, beyond the microscope and Palomar?

A dimension unimagined, past the length of hope?

Is it a climate far and fair that we shall never dare

discover? What is its color, and its alchemy?

Is it a jewel in the earth-can it be dug?

Or dredged from the sea? Can it be bought?

Can it be sown and harvested?

Is it a shy beast to be caught?

Death is a cloud,

immense, a clap of sound.

Love is little and not loud.

It nests within each cell, and it

cannot be split.

It is a ray, a seed, a note, a word,

a secret motion of our air and blood.

It is not alien, it is near-

our very skin-

a sheath to keep us pure of fear.

a poem by May Swenson

The Book of Torsos #5-Hesitation

2011-03-14T19:02:00.008+01:00

-you're not changed by cancer, you emerge-
(a line I heard in 'Four Extraordinary Women.' )
Photo, post cancer torso.

painting2cancers in the news!

2011-03-09T17:19:00.004+01:00

painting2cancers got featured in Europa Donna Luxembourg's Newsletter #21, 2011! :)

The Wings of A Dove

2011-02-28T11:35:00.015+01:00

-cancer-
Acrylics and resin on a mono print, 4by6. Entry for A Book About Death, Life! Entered in the permanent ABAD : Life archive as part of the Presbyterian College Art Collection, Clinton, South Carolina.

My heart is in anguish within me,

And the terrors of death have fallen upon me.

Fear and trembling come upon me,

And horror has overwhelmed me.

I said, "Oh, that I had wings like a dove!

I would fly away and be at rest."

from Psalm 55

Inner Landscape #15-Insomnia

2011-02-13T16:21:00.006+01:00

Oils on paper, 20 by 27 inches.

I have bouts of insomnia. I blame my meds. Being kept hyper to keep the thyroid cancer under control turns against me that way sometimes. Some nights I get up and look down the moon lit street. Some nights I lie awake and find how after my cancer treatments, my old frustrations and old desires that went lurking under the surface during treatments, come stare me in the face. I could get awfully bored before cancer, deadly bored I used to say. I still have that, this inner drive to do and feel alive. During the cancer treatments, I went into basic energy mode, I turned inwards and geared towards coping and survival. Now, it seems that inner drive to live fully got much stronger, with an added sense of urgency. Insomnia sharply confronts me with time. Lost time.

Radical Acceptance-Clarity Haynes

2011-02-11T16:36:00.009+01:00

Radical Acceptance, a show by Clarity Haynes (The Breast Portrait Project) opens tomorrow in Brooklyn. For those in the hood, I'll be there too, so to speak ;) I modeled for Clarity across the Ocean by email, sending photos of my (post-cancer) torso. Some mishap-photos I used for painting2cancers ... So, I'm proud to post about the show! Clarity says about the project:

I enjoy working with women with a wide range of body types and life experiences. Cancer survivors are just one of the groups who have found participating in the project to be a positive and emotionally healing experience. Over the past twelve years, more than 500 women have participated in the project. I’m grateful for all of the interactions I’ve had through this work -- I have learned from and been touched by the openness, courage and generosity of each model.

For more info on The Breast Portrait Project, visit:

www.bportraitproject.org

Inner Landscape #14-The Path

2011-02-01T11:07:00.006+01:00

digital print, study for a painting. Big, probably ;)

5 years ago today I had my left breast amputated. For some reason, this year more than the previous cancerversaries, I'm actively reminiscing the events leading up to the surgeries. The events that so radically changed my body and my life.

But look :) in the photo, where the tree branches are getting entangled and you can't see which is which anymore, where the darkness is most intense, that's where the brightest light is ....

Bite Me!

2011-01-21T19:57:00.006+01:00

-self portrait-
acrostic poem 'bite me' written for dearthyroid.org

Inner Landscape #13-Silence

2011-01-10T13:39:00.006+01:00

Pastel on a newspaper page, 8 by 10 inches.

This is a photo of the piece, I destroyed the original page in a frenzy ;)

These days are enveloped by

Overwhelming Silence

of Unanswered Questions,

Inconsolable Sorrow

and Unfulfilled Dreams.

There only is

Raw Loneliness.

Inescapable,

Deafening

Here and Now.

Inner Landscape #12- Cancer Eye

2011-01-06T12:42:00.014+01:00

Photo print, 8 by 10 inches.

When I was treated for my cancers, I sometimes flipped through med books in the library, staring at pictures of biopsy slides to see what the damn thing growing in me looked like. Oftentimes, I slammed the book shut, because I couldn't 'see' it, I didn't see how these color blots and lines were signs of malignant cancer. A part of me looked at them with an artistic eye? An eye for what life looks like, even if it is malignant. I thought, if you run that specimen slide through photoshop, that could make for some strong abstract. Beautiful even. I think it also works in another, twisted way. If you look around, with cancer in mind, you can see a cancer slide in almost anything. That eye can ruin your life just as much as the real stuff can. Equally harshly.

Lovers in the Lilacs*

2010-12-20T16:31:00.008+01:00

Modified (Banksied) 'Lovers in the Lilacs,' by Marc Chagall, 1930. Acrylics on a photo. By Banksied I'm referring to Banksy, a British street artist, who clandestinely hung up some modified paintings in museums. They hung there a couple of days before being spotted. What's not to like?

Chagall is one of my favorite painters. I love his colors and the way he lightheartedly portrays love. After I had my left amputation and later reconstruction, my husband and I had a ritual I inwardly called 'le boobie assessment' (pronounced with a French accent), in which my husband-before he went on a trip for work and when he came home-would check out the appearance and healing of my scars and my new breasts. After a while, when healing wasn't so drastically noticeable anymore, we stopped doing that. But to me, and probably my husband, it was important. For me, it was also lighthearted. Lovers, bodies and sex after (breast) cancer ... Quite a delicate topic. I heard my oncologist use the word sex in this context for the first time almost 5 years after my treatment in a talk he gave to us, breast cancer patients. I don't envy his position. How do you approach that fragile topic which undoubtedly has as many shapes and forms as there are patients? For me, lightheartedly works ...
I love how they are lying there between the lilacs, also my favorite spring perfume. So, let me post this piece as my holiday wishing card. There's a stack of snow lying outside, and hopefully, warmly covered underneath, a seed is getting ready for spring.

Happy Holidays!

La Mirada #17-Desolation

2010-12-13T11:27:00.022+01:00

Print based on a pastel painting I made after my photo Medusa, 8 by 8 inches.

Over 99% of thyroid nodules are not cancer. Whew. Papillary tumors are the most common of all thyroid cancers (>70%). Cervical metastasis (spread to lymph nodes in the neck) are present in 50% of small tumors and in over 75% of the larger thyroid cancers. The numbers place me in a very very small statistical group. My tumor was 4,5 cm, I had 3 positive lymph nodes and had a 100 millicuries RAI, a standard dose. Standard RAI doses are effective for the majority of patients with thyroid cancer, who after being administered RAI get to have undetectable marker Tg. Guess what.

Within 9 months I had two cancers. Friends, and doctors, assured me, meaning well, that I would not have a second cancer in less than a year. Kind of isolating when you're worried. I tested negative for Cowden, a rare genetic syndrome combining thyroid and breast cancer, which would have put me at a higher risk for uterine cancer. What a relief.

In Belgium we have a high detection rate with mammogram screening. I wasn't even in the target age group. Mammograms can save lives by finding breast cancer as early as possible. The key word is can. The imaging technique has its limitations. Sadly enough. Trouble started because I had felt a small hard lump in my left breast, size of a rice grain, exactly where one of my tumors was found .... The radiologist advised a biopsy, to be sure, after all, calcifications can be benign. Usually. I had three tumors in my breasts, different types left and right. What are those odds?

Doctors think statistically. Makes me think of the psychology diagnostics course I took. They teach you that if 75% of the population has brown eyes, you will be approached as having brown eyes. That's how it works. If you happen to have green eyes, tough. It's a problem, I think. It blinds doctors for the specific patient sitting in front of them, the woman whose breasts carry cancer ... It's tiring to be in a statistically small group as you are lumped into the norm that doesn't apply. Modern Experimental Science. Sad.

I'm thinking of all the women and men, whose cancer isn't detected early, who fall through the cancer cracks, through screening or otherwise. I could have been one of them. I guess I'm lucky. Sad.

Isolation Room

2010-11-28T19:40:00.009+01:00

Digital print based on a photo of the isolation room I stayed in for 5 days for my RAI treatment. May 2005. The blue is a chair, covered in blue plastic, so as to prevent my body from leaving radioactive traces of sweat and so on it. I put it in front of the room door, which had a window in it so that visitors/nurses/doctors could talk to me via the intercom system.

I read a quote by Susan Sontag the other day on illness that describes well how, in hindsight, I sat in that room. It says:

"Illness is the night-side of life, a more onerous citizenship. Everyone who is born holds dual citizenship, in the kingdom of the well and in the kingdom of the sick. Although we all prefer to use only the good passport, sooner or later each of us is obliged, at least for a spell, to identify ourselves as citizens of that other place."

After that stay I was put on levothyroxine, for the rest of my life. Since I heard I may not be rid of all cancer tissue, I think about that past cancer trajectory again ... I wrote another poem a while back, about what exactly those meds mean for me.

Death would come quietly

If I weren’t to take my meds.

Silently

Creeping

On my bed.

Vibrancy, death’s flip side:

Each day I take my pill,

Refusing to let go of Life!

Acrostic poetry DISCOVER on dearthyroid.org:

My Acrostic Poem: ILLNESS

2010-11-16T20:41:00.016+01:00

In the hospital, the day after my thyroidectomy. Photo. March 19th 2005.

Inhaling life,
Life without my thyroid,
Life with cancer…
Never the same again.
Exhaling, letting go.
Searching to embrace a new life
Simply breathing, here and now.

my poem on dearthyroid.org

Inner Landscape #11-The Chamber

2010-11-01T11:51:00.005+01:00

collage and pastel on paper, digital print, 8 by 10 inches.

My thyroid tumor was 4.5cm-1.8inches. That's quite a butterfly. After they excised it, it went to the lab to check which bad guy it was. I don't know what happened with the remains. Do they keep them a while, indefinitely? Do they destroy them? In the oven? Where do the ashes go then? ... For my breast tumors I had to sign authorizations so they could use the remains and some blood samples for research. Not for my thyroid. I imagine my breast tumors to be in some sterile environment, sliced and diced into specimen slides, then kept in lab drawers. For my thyroid, the image is much more obscure. I imagine it went in the oven, in a cold and desolate chamber. Dreamlike. Surreal.

Femininity #2-Silver

2010-10-18T09:16:00.012+02:00

Oils on paper, 20 by 27 inches. An art class exercise.

I'd like to think that
I've suffered the changes
of mountain and sea,
wind and cloud.
And yet be still young,
exuberant,
unbending.

~Soyo Taeneung (1562-1649)

I'm turning gray. I didn't see it coming. They say stress and meds can make that happen. There are sturdy threads of gray-ish white showing between my brown long hair and I have two gray tresses at either side of my head that some days make me think of Frankenstein's bride's hairdo. When the light hits them, they reflect it. So, they're not gray. They're silver. I used to color my hair, to hide first gray till some months ago. I'm more into natural since my cancers ... I'd like to have a full head of completely gray long wavy hair later ... later ;) I'll be a crone.

The Book of Torsos #4-The Body-Nothing Else

2010-10-04T18:43:00.010+02:00

Print, based on a blue pastel I made for seeking kali, 8 by 10 inches.
You can see that pastel in the seeking kali video in my side bar, it's the first image on there.

Or the waterfall, or music heard so deeply
That it is not heard at all, but you are the music
While the music lasts. These are only hints and guesses,
Hints followed by guesses; and the rest
Is prayer, observance, discipline, thought and action.
The hint half guessed, the gift half understood, is Incarnation.
~T.S.Eliot, from 'Dry Salvages.'

Antonio Damasio uses this quote in his book "The Feeling of What Happens," in which he describes consciousness and in particular its biological underpinnings. I love his books. Reading them leaves me in awe for what we (merely) are, and inspires respect for our fragility. Like I wrote before: 'The body is finite and limited. Life is fragile and precious.' No need to elaborate on why this feels important to me against the background of 2 cancers I guess. It's Damasio's books and my Buddhist background that inspired the title of my blog the body-nothing else.

two cancers gave me-

2010-09-22T13:01:00.010+02:00

I've come to think again about what these cancer trajectories have given me in terms of vitality... Quite a lot. I want the pieces of my (he)art to travel, all over the globe to lead a life of their own amongst friends and people I feel connected to-and I've been given lots of those too.

Well ... it's all happening!
One of the pieces I submitted to an art call by Mobius.Inc in Boston, MA, The Prostitution of Art, made me feel all of that amplified. Funny how that happened. I've participated in many a call so far and many a piece of mine traveled. You can check my log Art on the Road ;) My friend Bill Evertson went to the opening and shared a video about the exhibit, co-curated by another friend of mine Jane Hsiaoching Wang and watching it, I just felt a part of the whole thing ...

Here's my piece, I used a drawing I made when I was in my teens, measuring with Da Vinci ;) I shot it on our ironing board, which to me funnily fits with the theme of the show and then photo-shopped over it.

And here's Bill's video, my piece is at 1.28 in the video, in the magazine Mobius prints for the show :)

You know what? I'm damn proud! & Happy! & Grateful!

The Art Cure

2010-09-17T19:17:00.013+02:00

The Art Cure is a breast cancer awareness art project conceived by international artist and photographer, Tatiana von Tauber-whom I also would like to submit to my other blog the body-nothing else myself ;)

The Art Cure's focus is to introduce the power of art in healing and coping with the dark sides of life while raising funds for charity. Breast cancer victims and survivors are invited to paint a canvas for a silent auction with proceeds benefiting breast cancer awareness and research.

Friday, October 1, 2010 is The Art Cure’s projected opening at Horizon Gallery in downtown Savannah, GA for invited guests and press. Sunday, October 3, 2010 is planned for a public reception. For more information visit the official blog:

theartcure.blogspot.com

I decided to donate Elysium:

You can click the image to see the post & opening bid for the silent auction on The Art Cure's blog.

The deadline for sending works is September 26th. Info here. Still time!

In the meanwhile two of my friends, Kathleen McHugh and LuAnn Palazzo generously donated a piece to be auctioned off-clicking their names will take you to their pieces on The Art Cure's blog. But also: they both dedicated their work to me ... and I was moved to tears. Love you both! XXX

why do I do what I do?

2010-09-15T18:26:00.006+02:00

wdydwyd? is a worldwide community-art project to answer the question: "Why do you do what you do?" by combining an image and text in a creative way.

I don't remember now how I found out about them, but I do remember I knew immediately what to answer ;) You can click my image to go to their site and read what I wrote to go with it.

Femininity #1-The Blue Shoes

2010-09-10T19:05:00.009+02:00

Acrylics and pastel on fiber board
-Never again! The fiber board that is, acrylics and pastel: wow!-
15 by 17 inches.

After my reconstruction I wanted to do womanly things ... Don't ask me why. Some (female) friends asked if I felt less of a woman after my left breast amputation. I never knew what to answer. I still don't. Between the two amputations, I went into shops to try on clothes to see how the asymmetry felt to me and to see if and how people reacted. I remember that I got to feel I wanted to have a reconstruction done in the long run. A couple of months later my right breast was amputated and both were reconstructed. Since all of that ... I just notice that I look for nice shoes, fitted clothes and that my hair gained importance. I don't analyze the stuff. Womanhood redefined? Womanhood rediscovered? Womanhood appreciated? ... I just enjoy going along with it.

ps: It's painting2cancers' birthday this month. 2 candles on its cake :) Already.

Bringing Sexy Out of the Thyloset

2010-09-06T11:09:00.021+02:00

This post is part of the Dear Thyroid Blog Tour, i.e. during the month of September, Dear Thyroid is going on a blog tour to promote awareness for thyroid cancer. 'For this blog tour, we’ll be asking bloggers to write a post on their own blog that addresses some questions provided by Dear Thyroid regarding thyroid cancer and thyroid cancer awareness. On the day we are scheduled to make a “stop” at your blog, Dear Thyroid will post a brief description of your blog along with a link from our website to yours.'

So, here’s the Q&A ;)

-What kind of thyroid cancer were you diagnosed with? How many years have you been a survivor?

In March 2005 I had a thyroidectomy, followed by RAI end of May for papillary thyroid cancer, 4,5 cm left lobe and spread to some 3 or 4 glands. I just found out that the Thyrogen test I took in August, shows there's residue tissue ...

-September is thyroid cancer awareness month. What does that mean to you? Why do you think awareness is important? How do you spread awareness?

This September, thyroid cancer awareness month, I want to take a moment here, on my blog, to remember. Remember what getting cancer---my 1^st, 9 months later, I was dxd with breast cancer---meant to me. What it meant for my body, my relationship, my surroundings. My physical and emotional status, so to speak. But also, I post on this blog as my very small way to spread awareness. Thyroid cancer is rare, not many people know of it and often it just falls between the folds of the other cancers that get more talked about. I think that also has implications on early detection. I’d say, ‘peeps, feel your necks!’

-Many thyroid cancer patients have been told, “If you have to get cancer, thyroid cancer is the one to get.” What do you think of that statement? When you’re told this, how do you respond?

As a thyroid cancer patient/survivor, you’re often told ‘it’s the one to get.’ “Frankly, I’d rather not ‘get’ any, you?” is my default answer. I put that statement down to ignorance from an attempt to be comforting, easier to deal with for those who say it? And ignorance. Out of ignorance, hurtful things are said … The treatment trajectory and prognosis vary according to the type cancer you have, it’s not as straightforward as it seems-thinking that it is, is a cold approach which feeds the myth-after all, bodies differ…-that’s the warm approach.

-Dear Thyroid is constantly working to dispel the myth that thyroid cancer is the good cancer or the easy cancer. What other myth would you like to dispel regarding thyroid cancer?

There’s another cancer myth about it that roams, you can live your life the same way without your thyroid ... After a thyroidectomy, you’re thyroid IS a pill basically. You take a pill daily, for the rest of your life. Hopefully, you’ll be able to manage the hyper-level they put you on as a way to control the cancer that may lure in residue cells. Hopefully you don’t suffer too much from side effects. Hopefully you get on the right dosage easily enough. Hopefully they managed to spare nerves (vocal chords and shoulder) that are in the neighborhood while taking the thyroid out, hopefully they managed to spare most of the 4 parathyroid glands in the process, otherwise leaving you to also take calcium supplements for the rest of your life. Hopefully, hopefully ….

-What one thing would you tell the world about thyroid cancer?

Thyroid cancer sucks! It’s out there! Check your necks!

-What advice would you give to a newly diagnosed thyroid cancer patient?

A lot of information addressing treatments, follow-up, strategies, I looked up for myself on the web, in books, in support groups and by asking questions to my docs and fellow patients. I’m a person who wants to know. It gives me (the illusion of) some control maybe, it gives me peace of mind, reasonable stress levels, certainly. Nothing is more nerve-racking to me than not knowing what’s going on in terms of treatment.

Note to this post:

Very early on, for this blog I made “Moth,” to recall my thyroid cancer. It’s one of my most gripping and one of my best pieces, I think. I never really got to post a text with that painting. Too poignant. But this blog-tour post? Suits just fine! Thank you “Dear Thyroid.”

Moth, March 2005

acrylics on canvas

Dear Thyroid is a thyroid support community and literary brand. Our goal is to connect patients with each other, to create awareness for thyroid diseases and cancers, and to give all thyroid patients a voice. We come together as a united front to invoke change on behalf of thyroid patients worldwide. Thyroid patients are invited to submit letters to their thyroids, thyroid rants and raves, and other literary creations. Help us to create awareness for thyroid diseases and cancers by wearing your disease on your sleeve and by requesting one of our free awareness bands. Visit DearThyroid.org to learn more!

La Mirada #16-Wraith

2010-09-01T12:50:00.014+02:00

-self portrait, photo-

Bad news: My Thyrogen test shows that my thyroid cancer marker went up-they say I'm in the group of people for whom 1 radioactive iodine treatment after thyroidectomy does not get all the bad guys. Still, since my ultrasound was clear and my marker-values stay okay while suppressed, they will wait&see what happens ... So, I'm in the 'wait&see' mode from now on. There's something there, my blood says so, though we can't locate it (yet?) ...

September is Thyroid Cancer Awareness Month. I'm painfully aware again myself. But I also know it's important to spread the word. Next week, I'm doing a special post for the Dear Thyroid Blog Tour joining in to raise awareness. Dear Thyroid is a thyroid literary support site. It's written by thyroid patients, for thyroid patients. They invite patients with all kinds of thyroid ailments to write a letter to their thyroid as a way of healing and coping and releasing fear and irritation and other upsetting emotions.

Last night while I lay awake, I felt one bubbling up:

Dear Thyroid,

I was very sorry to hear yesterday that we did not completely eradicate you by excising you and bombarding you with radioactive iodine of 100mCurie.
As a young girl, I admired Mme Curie a lot, so I imagined she'd be a great ally while we were trying to nuke you out of my system. On the other hand and in some distorted way, it all makes sense. You're a part of me. You're feisty.
Still, I wouldn't get too confident if I were you.
Don't even think for one second that you got it made -wherever you are.

I'm way bigger than you.
And I'm a hell of a lot feistier!

Regards,
Ria

Summer Break!

2010-07-30T11:26:00.005+02:00

Next month I'll take a break from painting2cancers.
I'll be back tho, with a new series femininity, that's in the making :)
In the meanwhile, thank you all so much for visiting and leaving your comments and feedback.
They're very supportive and I love reading them!
See ya!

La Mirada #15-Questions

2010-07-30T11:01:00.007+02:00

self portrait, photo.

Next month I'll be taking another Thyrogen Test to measure my (thyroid) cancer marker. I had two of those before-one smack between two breast cancer surgeries, ugh. The marker went from 2,5 to 1,5. It should be unmeasurable, that is, under 1. The second time, they said I had nothing to worry about though, as the marker had gone down. If there had been cancer residue left, it would have gone up. Makes sense. So I was quite surprised that they'd want to repeat it now, after 5 years ... Normally-but what's that?-they don't, unless there are problems. There aren't any, except the damn thing was 1,5 and not 1 or under. As the doctor said the words "we suggest to repeat the Thyrogen test," I felt the wave rising ...
It tells me that I (still?) can't really 'control' my emotions in that moment, when docs go there, even if I've had the experience of two cancers. I'm guessing that, if they'd say, it's back or you have a third cancer, the wave would rise and I'd be overwhelmed again, though I'm certainly stronger in coping with treatment strategies, acceptance, the not knowing that accompanies the cancer, any cancer. That moment, in which they go there, the wave rises and I('ll) have no defense.

The Book of Torsos #3-Gladiator

2010-07-12T20:40:00.013+02:00

ballpoint and watercolor on paper, 4 by 6.

Lately I've come to think that my strength is also my weakness. In a crisis-and I don't mean just the cancer context though they give me an added feeling of urgency-let's say in life in general I am so used to mobilize all my power, to give it everything I got, that I forget or don't acknowledge that that actually costs me ... I'm tired.

It's funny how some pieces of music can reveal my (that) way of living to me ... At least, it's a lingo I seem to understand. Yesterday I listened to a track from the Motorcycle Diaries. The melody itself struck a chord. There are pieces that can tell you exactly: this is what you are now, this is your energy now and how you're 'traveling' ... weathered, determined, melancholic at times and lonesome ... on la poderosa-the mighty one, my bike ;) I guess that's like Buddhist compassion in action across time and across context.

La Mirada #14-Kali Ma

2010-06-20T15:10:00.018+02:00

-My Invocation to Kali-

acrylics on a photo, 4by6 inches,

fragment of a page from an artist book on Kali (ongoing).
The book is a collab with Susan Shulman and Bill Evertson.
Also visit Seeking Kali for artist call&more info on the project.

Kali is the Hindu goddess associated with eternal energy, destruction and-paradoxically-creation. She inspired my ngo I created as a Gestalt therapist, in which I used to work with clients trying to bring about life changes ...

Of course having cancer is an onset of great change, physical, emotional, spiritual. So, she was around ... Knowing of her vast powers and some Jungian theory, I didn't/don't mind invoking her now and again ... I mean, as the article author I linked to says so picturesquely, 'she will lop off your inflated ego in no time flat if you ask her, and she offers no guarantees that the process will be painless.' What's not to like? I'd rather have her with me.

My Invocation to Kali:

Ma Kali, look at me,

I'm suffering to the bone.

Ma Kali, come and dance,

On my ashes, on my bones,

Ma Kali, come and dance,

Bring them back to Life,

Ma Kali, come and dance,

Bring me back to Life.

Ma Kali, can't you see?

I wear your colors,

I carry your mark.

A Book About Death-Omaha

2010-06-14T16:36:00.004+02:00

I used my piece doctors, for my postcard for the Omaha Chapter of A Book About Death.

Call&Info are on the abookaboutdeathomaha-blog. Deadline is July 20th. 2010.

So there's still plenty of time should you be thinking about submitting ...

Impact. Make One.

2010-06-13T20:02:00.011+02:00

Curtis Brown collaboration with NC Komen RACE FOR THE CURE.

The Book of Torsos #2-New Normal

2010-06-08T12:54:00.005+02:00

The Book of Torsos, with its new entry, acrylics on paper, 4 by6 inches

In the bathroom, coming out of the shower, all action grasping for towel and underwear, I often catch a glimpse of my new body in the mirror. The skin of my new breasts is of very dense texture and a little paler than the surrounding chest skin ... It's my new normal, my new day-to-day. I like to think I have alabaster skin. It sounds very feminine and chic.

Small Torso Series #1-Deconstruction

2010-05-24T17:04:00.007+02:00

Acrylics on a postcard, 4 by 6inches.

This piece kicks off a new series: The Book of Torsos, #1 is in a private collection via an art-exchange project.

My Doctors 'Mail Art'-ified

2010-05-17T16:40:00.018+02:00

Diagnosis

Doctors

Last week I found a terrific Mail Art Call:

Call for Mail Art: "Your Doctor Mail-Art-ified!"

How do you see your doctor, and what can he/she learn from your Art?!
All entries will be published on the blog, and a selection of the mail art will be part of an exhibition in the Netherlands in a location where doctors have access to, probably October 2010 (deadline is August 17th 2010).

Seriously, how could I not answer this call? ;) I chose 'Doctors' and 'Diagnosis' from my pieces (I linked to the blog-posts in the captions) and sent in a print. Browsing through all my material was a bit of a process by itself ... It feels as if there's more distance, as if I was getting re-acquainted with all of the experiences and feelings I had along the treatment trajectory, along the blogging trajectory, along the pieces I made ... They're getting to be more like (art) pieces I look at, from an inner distance to the actual experiences I guess is the best way to put it. 5 years after ThyCa now and 4,5 after Breast Cancer.

So, if any of my readers feel like adding something to that 'My Doctor'-topic, please DO!

All info on that blog:

yourdoctorinmailart

Isolation is in MoMA Wales!

2010-05-03T17:32:00.008+02:00

The postcard I sent to the UK version-curated by Sonja Benskin Mesher-of the "A Book About Death" project which was originally started by Mathew Rose in NYC. I used my drawing 'Isolation.' Here's a gallery of the postcards, mine is on string 12 about three quarters to the right.

Discouragement

2010-04-25T14:58:00.007+02:00

Drawing on paper, pastel crayon, graphite and Chinese ink, 8by8 inches.

My friend Bill Evertson went to the MoMA exhibit of William Kentridge. I got jealous looking at Kentridge's drawings in Bill's blogpost ... but I also got a boost, got completely inspired and made this. Discouragement. It drags you down. People find it difficult to deal with, in themselves as well as in others. When they call you after an exam, they want to hear you be positive. But, in fact, discouragement and a cancer treatment trajectory go hand in hand ... and I won't deny my feelings of discouragement. Ever. They tend to come back multiplied and haunt you if you do ...

Discouragement is now on show in Italy for FEMMINE, at FABBRICAIMMAGINE lab via dei tre pupazzi 5/a Roma Italyopen 31-12-2010 closed 28-12-2011 (one year). Here's a photo from that show, Discouragement hangs bottom right:

(Let's All) Stand Up To Cancer!

2010-04-24T18:29:00.035+02:00

The CBS television show Ghost Whisperer is teaming up with the organization Stand Up to Cancer in the hope to bring together the best and the brightest in the cancer community, encouraging collaboration instead of competition. Their digital media team found painting2cancers---Wow! :)---and invited me to join them to bring awareness to Stand Up To Cancer by posting some of the assets they created for the organization. I said, 'sure, I can do that.' So I'm posting video's here and a link to launch a star to honor someone you might know with cancer while making a donation to Stand Up To Cancer.

Hell, I'm standing up to cancer alright!

Let's all!

-I love what Minka Kelly says about how being confronted with cancer can make you wise and compassionate ... I hope that's what it's doing for me, I'd love that ...-

-Well, this video touches upon something I've been struggling with: there should be ways to treat the patient with the cancer and not just the cancer-

Clicking the image above will bring you to the SU2C Constellation on the Stand Up To Cancer site, which is a unique and personalized tribute space to honor anyone who has received a cancer diagnosis. For as little as $1, users can launch a star in honor of a loved one.

Should Ghost Whisperer-fans fly by here, their digital media team also developed an, exclusive to this particular campaign, Stand Up To Cancer interactive memory game:

La Mirada #13-The Left Side of My Face

2010-04-11T20:14:00.006+02:00

acrylics and collage on canvas, 8 by 12 inches.

A while ago, I took a picture in which my right side came out overexposed. I took a while to examine the left side of my face while my (extremely dominant) right side was, well, out of the picture ;) My left eye is lazy (amblyopia) and when I'm tired, charmingly turns inwards just a little. I'm deaf in my left ear where I have an eardrum and 2 ear bones (hammer and anvil) I got from a donor. My thyroid tumor was in the left lobe, about 2 inches large and my left breast was the first to go because of 2 tumors. The 1 tumor in my right breast was of a different type ... some crazy list.

Inner Landscape #10-Dante's Gate

2010-03-31T14:31:00.006+02:00

-Radiation Bunker-

Acrylics&collage on canvas, 7,5 by 10 inches.

When I went to my pre-RAI-consultation (for my Radioactive Iodine Ablation treatment), I drove by car to the Radiation Department. It's at the furthest end of the campus, they said. They let you drive in immediately, no problems. It's free parking there for patients ... They were building more parking space, part of the area was set off by fences. More ... Many cars, no people. You go into this building, and descend down to the basement, the deep vaults of the hospital. Cold, sterile, isolated, lonely, lost. I remember a marvelous colorful, large painting at the reception. I went to see up close who the artist was. I forgot. Maybe it wasn't signed. Maybe I dreamt. I didn't go back after.

La Mirada #12-Grounding

2010-03-22T10:23:00.011+01:00

-the unbearable lightness of being 'post' cancer (is there such a state?)-

self-portrait, photo.

I read it yesterday in a post by Caroline, a fellowess cancer blogger; 'there is no magic wand for cancer':

People shouldn't consider themselves cured after treatment for early stage cancer. Once you have it, there is no cure. They can treat it until there is no sign of cancer to be found through surgery, radiation, chemotherapy, and other therapies. They can run out of tests to find it. They can tell you that you are done with treatment. They can tell you that you have a good prognosis. But they can't tell you, you don't have any cancer cells left in your body.

Once you have a cancer diagnosis, early stage or not, you can't assume that you are safe once treatment is done. You have to be vigilant and get follow up tests and treatments. You can live a normal life but you can't escape the fact that it was in your body once and they didn't cure it - they removed any signs of it and can't find any more - but they have no way of knowing if they got it all.

Of course, I knew. Of course, you know. It's a thought doctors won't allow you to formulate out loud too much and friends will try to 'smother.' A thought you're completely alone with ... I lay awake at night yesterday, thinking about it. I lay awake again like I did right after being dxd. Just staring on my pillow, no muscle tensed at all ... the unbearable lightness of being, (so said ) 'post' cancer.

La Mirada #11-Medusa

2010-03-15T10:48:00.027+01:00

-my name, nothing is the same ...

And I won't go back the way I came ... (Lhasa)-

self-portrait, photo.

These days, it's been 5 years since my thyroid cancer. It's my 5th thycancerversary. 5! Friends and docs say I look well. I am well. They say I look like the old Ria. That's a mistake. I'll never be the same again. I have no thyroid and I'm forever on pills. I'll be at risk for lymphedema for the rest of my life. Lines are drawn all over my body and my future is governed by statistics. I don't know how it will be 10 years form now-God willing-but I still walk into a room conscious of all the cancer business, conscious of my changed body. There are times I appear to be very visible to men. I think, amused, 'you should know what's under this top, I wonder how fast you'd run?'-mind you, I might be surprised myself ;) It's weird to meet new people while having cancer in the back of your head. People say you should move on. They have no idea.

Some people try to look me in the eye, curious about what is in there after surviving 2 cancers. Big mistake. They're never unaffected ... Some people should not look me in the eye, period. For their sake. I'm sure there are worlds of strength and hope there, there is a lot of darkness too. Darkness from dealing with apathy, indifference, disinterest, ignorance and impotence. From dealing with people's limitations and my own. A friend, whom I explained about z times that I have a life-long risk for lymphedema, continues to say "you won't get it anymore if you didn't get it after surgery, yoú should see so-and-so's arm" ... as if I don't know what I'm scared of ... Or the one who said "you have such a great figure, won't you give me some of your pills "... An aunt asked my sister if what I had was really that serious, since she saw me on my bike ... Cancer put a magnifying glass on dysfunctions in (both) our families. Some people tell me-well, they try-I got cancer for a reason and now that it's over (?) and I'm doing well and worked to get everything I could out of the experience, I won't get a recurrence, I've learned my lessons you see, lessons they themselves probably knew at birth ...
Some people project their fear of cancer onto me. Like the acquaintance who asked-right after I was dxd with my 2nd cancer-if I now was going to kill myself. Honestly, I didn't know whether to rage in anger or burst out laughing.
People will avoid contact too-pardon the jargon, I'm a Gestaltist, we're trained to notice contact avoidance mechanisms and guard contact quality, cancer only sharpened the sensitivity. Of course it comes as a shock if someone in your circles gets cancer, I understand it's a learning process to deal with that and with me, but if you're going to run away from that-for your own reasons-then, do not look me in the eye. I understand it is hard, I do not understand that you ignore me.
There's so much frustration in my eyes, about the struggle in my doctor contacts-better if I don't get going too much on that. I just don't see the logic in approaching me like they do (textbook)Mrs. X when I so obviously am not her, let alone that she exists. Apparently it's hard for (some) docs to ask how something is for me and then listen to my answer. Although that might spare them time in the long run. Some are afraid I'll cry. Well, I have done, but I stopped too. It only takes a minute, that's even been researched. Isn't it crazy how I know that? Lhasa's words cover the quality of those contacts well. She sings, things just get further and further apart. The head from the hands and the hands from the heart.

There's anger in my eyes too. Writing about this awakens my anger. I'm angry for all of us who are confronted with cancer. Those who live to tell, those who live with cancer and those who passed away.

So, if all of this unsettles you. If you find it confronting. If you find me confronting. Then, for your sake as well as my own, do not look me in the eye.

Inner Landscape#9-Shapes&Shadows

2010-03-01T12:50:00.017+01:00

-breast portraits-

Lately, I'm doing a lot of photography-stuff. I've been admiring the work of Moira Antonello, her vague black&white shots in her series Cuerpos, are so movingly beautiful. And there's Marianne Mueller's The Sleeper, I discovered after I bought her book A Part of My Life, in a second hand store. I've been taking quite some photos-these were 'accidents'-of myself for Clarity Haynes' Breast Portrait Project. Clarity usually works with a live model, but as we're on other sides of the ocean, she agreed to do my Breast Portrait using photos. She writes in one of her emails that she finds my torso to be graceful and elegant and describes the artistic process of observation necessary to make the drawing as one of discovery and delight. I know what she's talking about, as an artist I too can take that outlook ... As my eyes caress the depths, crevasses, shapes and shadows of this new body I have since the thyroidectomy, the scars and the new breasts, I cannot help but find it beautiful!

Modigliani*

2010-02-18T10:05:00.011+01:00

-modified picture of Modigliani "Nu assis," 1910-

I think she's beautiful! It could have been my portrait, after my first mastectomy. I had to have another surgery after that, because the margins of the right lumpectomy weren't cancer free. My oncologists advised another amputation, rather than re-excision and radiation. They suggested to reconstruct (DIEP-flap) during the same surgery ... I remember sitting on the couch with my husband the evening we were told. I had no doubts about amputation, but I felt very weary of the reconstruction at the same time. Plus, I only had about three months to decide ... I slid sighing against my husband on the couch as I voiced my concern: "of course I want them to amputate, but why reconstruct, is it that important?" Terrible question to ask a husband ... He was silent for a long while and then said: "but, why wouldn't you have them reconstruct?" with an intonation that suggested he really wanted to ask why I was being so "hard" for myself ... at least that's what I read in it ... my husband knows me well ... It's true, had I chosen for re-excision, I would probably have gone back for a reconstruction. During the three months of recovery after my left amputation I watched my scar heal and felt the new shape and asymmetry of my (new) torso didn't look right, from an aesthetic viewpoint, maybe even from my artist's viewpoint. It didn't feel right either, from the inside-out ... I do know of women who just go for the double amputation-scar-look and I do admire their strong torso-photos on The Scar Project. They're awesome! But it wouldn't have been (for) me ... When I look at my new breasts, I know I would have felt it to be cold and hard (for me) ...

Moth is in Brazil!

2010-02-09T12:35:00.017+01:00

Well, not the painting "Moth," but one of the cards I had printed using the image. The Brazilian spin-off of the 2009 NYC "A Book About Death"-project by Matthew Rose opened February 3rd in MuBE, São Paulo, Brazil. In the video curator Angela Ferrara shortly explains the project "Um Livro Sobre A Morte," in Portuguese and then we can look around the "wall," covered in cards, with the visitors to the opening. My card made it into the movie, hehe- I'd say, if you're in the hood 3-28th February ... ;) And now extended till March 28th.

Participating artist Mary Bogdan made a great post about the exhibit on her blog.

La Mirada #10-Me&Frida

2010-02-01T12:48:00.011+01:00

graphite drawing and acrylics on paper, 10 by 12 inches.

One of my first blog pieces Aggressed Body, is completely and obviously inspired by La Columna Rota, by Frida Kahlo. I stood in front of her painting last week, it's part of the Dolores Olmedo collection which is on show in BOZAR in Brussels. When I had my reconstruction and the bandages came off I immediately thought of Frida's painting while looking at my new swollen breasts in the small hospital bathroom mirror. I always experience compassion when I look at her pieces ... always ... So, if compassion is transpersonal and goes across time that way, maybe anything I'm doing in my life might cue compassion for her, wherever she is ... who knows, wouldn't that be wonderful? Anyway, this piece is my homage to her. Btw, it's my fourth (4th!) breast-cancerversary today. All is well, so I'm happy to post this today :)

La Mirada #9-Scars

2010-01-18T17:31:00.015+01:00

The evening before my thyroidectomy, two doctors came in to explain the risks of that surgery: I could lose some mobility in my left shoulder, because of possible nerve damage and a nerve to my vocal cords could get injured so as to leave me hoarse for life. I could lose my parathyroids so that I might need to take calcium supplements. They also said the incision would be made in a skin fold. Luckily everything went well and I lost only one parathyroid. I gained a skin fold though ;) But that's okay, I love my thyroidectomy scar, it marks the spot where life has touched me. I never cover it in summer. I don't like it when people cautiously say: "oh, that scar is hardly visible, you shouldn't be self conscious about that."
I remember when I was unpacked from my bandages after my left mastectomy, my oncologist and his assistant stood at my bedside, looking a bit concerned about what my reaction was about to be. I was happy to lose the breast, and with it the cancer. So I wasn't focused on the empty spot. I uttered: "oh, that's a lovely scar!" The assistant threw a look at my oncologist, who felt it was necessary to confirm, "yes, it is a beautiful scar." Totally unnecessary, but he couldn't know I was comparing it to my thyroidectomy scar right after they took out the sutures. Ugh-it was folded outwards with stitches like a seamen in a dress and I only needed two bolts at either side to look like Frankenstein. Then, when I looked at that in the bathroom mirror-alone-I sobbed even though I knew that it would heal beautifully... My mastectomy scars are stubbornly staying a bit red, but I like them too. Touched by life, times 2!

La Mirada #8-Shrouded Serenity

2010-01-03T14:07:00.034+01:00

Collaborative piece: silk bamboo painting by Bill Evertson, acrylics in gray tones on paper by me, 12 by 16 inches.

This piece resulted from an Art of Friendship-collaboration with my friend Bill Evertson. You can read all about how that went on Art on the Road. His painting conveyed serenity upon me, and I was thinking I might use it as a sort of veil. So, inspired by Tibetan thangkas I made "Shrouded Serenity." I stamped it with the hand stamp Bill had sent me before and the insert is a calligraphy of the Nembutsu, "Namu Amida Butsu," an expression of a Pure Land Buddhist's total reliance upon the infinite compassion of the Buddha Amida. Amida Buddha vowed he would not (want to) attain enlightenment as long as every other sentient being wouldn't attain enlightenment also. Pretty strong! Total Entrusting in the Nembutsu would suffice to attain enlightenment and reciting it is the only practice in Pure Land Buddhism.
Working on the piece also made me think about dying-well, so will 2 cancers ;)-and in turn, that reminded me again of the song "Soon This Space Will Be Too Small," by Lhasa de Sela on her album "The Living Road," in which she sings:

Soon this space will be too small

And I'll go outside

To the huge hillside

Where the wild winds blow

And the cold stars shine

I'll put my foot

On the living road

And be carried from here

To the heart of the world

I'll be strong as a ship

And wise as a wale

And I'll say the three words

That will save us all

To me that song is about our ultimate journey on "The Living Road," and I hope that when I'll die, I will say the three words that will save us all ... I hope I do. I hope I'll say:

Namu Amida Butsu.

ps to this post:

Lhasa de Sela passed away from breast cancer January 1st 2010

-Buen Viaje, Lhasa, Bon Voyage-

Calling Women Artists for a New Blog

2009-12-08T17:20:00.009+01:00

While I was treated for my cancers, my body changed a lot. Of course, I also got older. I’m making pieces that show those changes on this blog. For me, it’s all about the (physical) body: we suffer through it, but we also experience compassion&joy through it. Now, I’m interested to see how other women artists create as they are ‘touched' by life. I’m calling women artists for artworks about their body as it changes through different circumstances, the joyful and the sad. To name a few: aging, child birth, illness, accidents, (psychological) suffering, break ups&hair cutting-episodes I seem to share with some friends… Interested? Send a small, lowres jpg together with a short narrative, site-/blog address to

Mail artists can mail me to inquire for my address. The new blog is TheBody-NothingElse.

La Mirada #7-two cancers gave me...

2009-12-05T20:00:00.044+01:00

Black&white photo.

Aside from fear, chaos, doubt, stress, grief, anger, a changed body, disorientation, confrontation, a sense of loss, loss of people I thought were friends, loss of people I thought would be there for us .... ?
The list is long, but I'll cut to the chase:
(Some) people ask whether the experience has changed my outlook on life. No, it hasn't. I was living quite aware before. It has given me the courage and the strength to act upon that outlook though, to actually do something in going after what I feel is important, to find my people. I'm no longer such a procrastinator at life. I go for what I want (to do), I'm much more selective with the company I keep. I drifted further away from family, but it's okay, I no longer feel that responsible for contact gone awry, I feel that's a good thing. I've learned to forgive, because I do not want to fret or use up my energy thinking about what went wrong, what I or someone else said wrong, to feel angry or bitter. I'm getting to know my strong points and my pitfalls. I'm getting to know some old patterns I seem to be repeating in my contacts with my doctors, but they're also happening elsewhere. The latest one is pretty big: if I turn to you for help or support, if I come to ask you something and you ignore me, dismiss me, patronize me, turn me down or away, I will-with loads of pain&frustration, don't get me wrong!-do it myself, I will not give up until I can solve it myself or until I find someone who can and will help+ I will never turn to you again ... That mechanism seems to make me (even) stronger as a human being, it allows me to take good care of my body/myself and I hope I will be able to do that for my life-time!-I can see it now: I will be a long haired, grumpy, tenacious, feisty old woman ;)-I think that, from now on, I will trust those old processes. I think that they shape my survivor-mentality. So what did these two cancers give me other than ...? My two cancers have set me free to celebrate my life!

Oh, and btw, here's something from YouTube that'll help me with that too:
Pink Glove Dance for Breast Cancer Awareness, awesooooome!
Come ooooon UZ Gasthuisberg, Multidisciplinary Breast Center, get with it already!!! ;)

Tolerance Threshold-Tamoxifen

2009-11-23T11:47:00.013+01:00

Watercolor&acrylics on a mono type-the 2nd print of the mono type I used for 'Bust,' 9 by 12 inches.

Last week I went to see my (breast cancer) oncologist, to discuss going off Tamoxifen. I'm sure women on the drug know the list: joint aches, awful leg cramps, bowel irritation and horrific night sweats. There's hair thinning too, but I won't mention that. At least, that doesn't hurt. I began to think that it also has its effect on my leg pain-thank God no thrombosis, maybe related to the cramping?-that seemed to take forever to improve. It meant I couldn't do my regular sports routine (with pain) so I was getting into a vicious circle of feeling, well, pissed. I explained to my oncologist's assistant that Tamoxifen feels like a heavy dark cloud that gradually swallows you up. You try to cope with supplements and a strong dose of taking side effects into perspective, but there comes a time when the threshold is reached. Mine was. I felt I was slowly slipping into a dark place. I've had a depression. I do not want to fight myself out of another one, because of a darn pill that might not even be that all important in fighting my breast cancer. I've been on them for 3,5 years, lowering dosage from 20 over 10 to 5 mg because of the side effects. I took them to prevent recurrence. In the meanwhile, my thyroid cancer oncologists and my breast cancer oncologists gave me excellent prognoses-I can't begin to tell how relieved and grateful I am, I am after all surviving TWO cancers, how lucky does one have to be?!-and here I was hanging in to taking this pill day after day. My oncologist explained the statistics thoroughly this time. Before I was sent away with 'you have an excellent prognosis,' which was very well and good, but I'm one of those patients who likes hearing her numbers. He showed me where I was situated and we both felt okay at going off them. Well, maybe I was more okay with it than he is. A friend of mine said "it's about how you have to live within your own body, which is of no concern or consequence to the doctors' team anyway, not really." I deeply feel that's true, although it touches upon a tough doctor/patient aspect at the same time. I would have liked to think that I was taken seriously as an (important) part of the team against (my) cancers, as an expert of how I feel within my body, but I rarely really felt that way. I often felt/feel talked at and not talked with. And some oncologists even tried to tell me how I should feel ;) Anyway, I took charge, I went to listen to what my experts had to say and I'm going off them, very happily. Had the numbers not been as good, not as happily no doubt. I just don't like pills messing with my head.

I've not taken them for 2 weeks now. It takes some getting used to. Every morning there's only one very small pill on my plate. My thyroid hormone replacement. I can't go off those, they keep me alive (& kicking). And I'm very happy that I can tolerate the suppression level they keep me on. Patients who are less suppressed than I am, have great trouble coping. In the long term, they put me at risk for osteoporosis and heart problems. But, again, I have to stick with them, it's not an option.

w-women globally & skirt.com!

2009-11-10T20:47:00.007+01:00

painting2cancers is featured on W-Women Globally!

W-Women is an online initiative with aim to focus on the condition of women in contemporary world with as mission is to become a media channel through which we will be able to communicate, announce, inspire and connect with all those who are interested in women issues, activities and achievements today.

You can read my interview here.

The interview is also posted on skirt.com, you can read Kim Sisto Robinson's blog-post here.

Inner Landscape#8-Scorched Earth

2009-11-07T16:32:00.008+01:00

-tolerance threshold: pain-Tamoxifen-

mixed media-monoprint&acrylics on paper, 6 by 8 inches.

A scorched earth policy, Wikipedia says, is a military strategy or operational method which involves destroying anything that might be useful to the enemy while advancing through or withdrawing from an area. Although initially referring to the practice of burning crops to deny the enemy food sources, in its modern usage the term is not limited to food stocks, and includes the destruction of infrastructure such as shelter, transportation, communications and industrial resources. The practice may be carried out by an army in enemy territory, or its own home territory.

Sounds a bit like cancer ravaging the host's body... mine. After its passing, I find I'm having trouble with seemingly lasting physical pains I would have seen as silly before (like my leg injury I talked about in my previous post or some Tamoxifen-induced muscle cramping/joint ache, Jezus, they HURT, I'm totally getting empathetic with women who think about quitting.) No more. Enough is enough.

La Mirada #6-Tolerance Threshold

2009-10-24T13:50:00.025+02:00

-mariposita de mi alma, mantente firme-

-little butterfly of my soul, hang in there-

Usually I'm not one of many words in these posts. But I guess a threshold has been reached. I've been having nerve pains in my right calf for some weeks. I had them before. That time I went to my physiotherapist who treated it with neurodynamic physiotherapy and told me to stretch more often after biking and fitness. This time, I went to my MD for my flu-shot, told her about my pain and that I suspected two nerves in my right leg where blocked again-sorry, I don't speak the jargon, but I know where they are. I asked if it would be a good idea to repeat physiotherapy. Since she couldn't trigger the pain-a nerve that fires for no reason causes pain independent from any movement, makes sense?!-she told me physio wouldn't be of much help. She gave me a prescription for pain meds-ibuprofen-and told me to come back in TWO weeks... After a week on meds to no avail, I decided to go to my physiotherapist at my own cost-thank God I can do that. He treated me twice. It hurt like hell. He told me it would and when I cried after he loosened up some right foot ligament and two nerves that I knew were causing the pain (!), he sat with me and encouraged me to cry and let it all out. "Old pain," he said. He's a dear.

My leg is better. I wonder what my MD would have done if I had gone back after two more weeks of agony, so easily resolved? Stronger meds? Imaging no doubt. Pain clinic? A shrink? Sometimes I feel my doctor, whom I know for 20 years, approaches me like I'm some moron-sorry, I'm angry-with no idea or awareness of what might be going on. I wonder if I should spend another 30$ on a consult with her to tell her it's resolved, thanks to my own initiative-again. I don't really want to. I'll tell her when I go for my next flu-shot. Makes sense!

She did say something that was useful though-it's not all bad-she has those moments, it's probably why I've been sticking with her. She spoke about pain thresholds in cancer patients. She compared it with the pain threshold in battered children. I also had my share of that. It's about a limit to what can be tolerated. When it's reached, the smallest of pain can be too much to bear. I guess there's something like an emotional tolerance threshold as well. I think I'm there. I'm worn out. I often think about my childhood in these situations. I was a tenacious little kid, though my parents called me stubborn. I still have that attitude: I WILL NOT give in/up. It comes with a price.
To think I have to mobilize all my energy and tenacity to get some help with something as ridiculously simple to treat?! Here's "Mariposita de mi alma, mantente firme." Sorry for the rant.

The Indian Dance*

2009-10-10T15:19:00.013+02:00

Modified (Banksied) painting, acrylics onto an oil painting I made about 17 years ago, 100 by 80 cm. I signed with: I ♥ Kees van Dongen, 1992-2009-

The postcard of the painting "The Indian Dance," by Kees van Dongen.

I first met Dutch painter Kees van Dongen's "The Indian Dance," on a postcard I bought some 20 years ago in the shop of the Museum of Modern Art in Brussels. They don't have it anymore. I never saw it live, it's in a private collection somewhere I gather... don't get me started.

Anyway, I immediately fell in love with it and copied it in my art class-well, I tried. The dancer to me is dancing life, exuberantly, all arms and legs. I recognized the energy, back then I had just recovered from a depression and felt life burning ... ;) I don't think I lost that fire/drive with my amputation(s). In fact, I may have unconsciously deployed it, recovering from two cancers. Thus looking at the painting, working on her again and modifying (Banksy-ing) her gave me comfort. I found it very moving work. Probably recognizing that I may still have some juice left in me. Well, make that plenty ;) And I fell in love with it/her all over again.

Blog Birthday!-Abrazo-Embrace

2009-09-30T00:01:00.002+02:00

Ballpoint drawing & collage, 8,5 by 11 inches.

It’s painting2cancers’ birthday! One candle on its cake! It’s a special day. So, I thought I’d post about my husband, because he’s special too… My husband is the best. While being treated, I’ve often watched him, trying to imagine what it must be like when your wife gets dxd with 2 cancers in such a short period of time. I’ve seen him pale, quiet and shocked. I’ve seen him keeping strong. I’ve heard him say magical things, like “every day a bit better…” I’ve known him crack a joke and tease me. I’ve gotten links to articles about cancer he’s read… My husband is the strong&silent type… That’s okay. I am too. I understand that mode of being. After the amputation when I was home from surgery, with my pear shaped drainage containers attached to my top, he’d come home for lunch, bringing bread and sometimes goodies. He couldn’t stay long and often left before I finished. One day, I heard him come back in. Forgotten keys, I thought. He came in through the door behind me and hugged me firmly from behind the chair. I dropped my apple. We didn’t speak. I uttered a “mmmmm…” And as he let go, he left as quietly as he came in. Mmmmm…, my husband is the best!

Frieze

2009-09-23T11:49:00.003+02:00

Drawing with ballpoint, 2,5 by 8 inches.

After seeing a simple drawing by Matisse, "Le Grand Nu," I got inspired and made this frieze, recording my transforming body...

Esperando

2009-09-14T11:45:00.007+02:00

-'esperando' is Spanish for waiting, but it also means hoping-

Acrylic on canvas, 10 by 12 inches.

I always go alone (to check-ups) now, I bike there. Biking has become like a ritual to me. In the waiting room I tend to go over what happened and where I am now...That waiting part is the worst, I'm uncomfortable because of the memories, the reruns of the conversations I had, the way I felt while going to exams, the way I felt when dxd, how I had to still be alert and ask questions while having cancer... While waiting I'm also looking at other patients waiting there and thinking about why they're there. Last time I went, the waiting aisle was filled with pregnant women in variable degrees of discomfort-it put a smile on my face… For me, it's not the exam itself, I tend to feel relatively ok and actually I'm not all that worried, I always 'feel' myself as well-I guess I'm still thinking they 'got' it all out, or off + they never actually felt any lumps, I had felt something myself...-I'm just upset and absent (to the concrete world), I guess these are the right words, upset about everything that surrounds the doctor's visit...

Cretan Snake Goddess*

2009-09-02T19:45:00.016+02:00

'Banksied' version of a Cretan snake goddess figurine (modified pic). For Banksy, see also post of August 1st. below.

I've had something with these snake goddess figurines ever since I learnt about them in high school. Apparently their function is still unclear, but it is assumed that they're kind of a fertility figure because of their exposed and amplified (!) breasts. Actually it's the breasts that intrigued me as a young girl. Becoming a woman, I wasn't that well-guided...Arms wide open holding snakes, symbolizing the renewal of life, she's believed to embody spiritual and psychic power of women. Missing a breast, later two and now with reconstructed breasts, I could/can still identify with her pose. So, here's my 'Banksied' version of her.

The Dream: The two Rias

2009-08-25T11:56:00.007+02:00

-my interpretation of "The two Fridas," by Kahlo-

Drawing, 9 by 9 inches.

When I was training as a Gestalt therapist, we did a visualization once, in which we were to explore our 'inner house of being.' In the attic we were to meet with our primordial ancestors. I remember having a fright when I 'saw' a wrinkled old woman with long, silvery hair and eyes glowing like coals. The therapist who was training us, said to me : "Yoú are scared of your own strength." For what it's worth...I'm not scared anymore.

Homage

2009-08-19T10:07:00.024+02:00

-prenez soin de vos seins (take care of your breasts)-

3 manipulated pics of my mirror-image , between my breast cancer surgeries.

With "Prenez soin de vous,"-Take care of yourself-, French artist Sophie Calle makes public what is commonly regarded to be private and turns it into a work of art, as she often does. Her partner ended their relation by email, "take care of yourself," being the last sentence of the breakup letter. I stumbled on the book cover picture while I was looking at her exhibit-announcement in Brussels, BOZAR this summer. When I saw it, I didn't know the context/project it was a part of and I interpreted/looked at it from within my mind-frame, working around cancer, "take care of yourself," being an important message... I even got a bit upset, because a breakup compared to two cancers, is small stuff. After the big C, you don't sweat the small stuff, let alone make an art-project around it (some of us even get abandoned while having cancer)... I guess I took it a bit too seriously ;-) Makes sense? But also, interesting. A picture/a work of art, is no doubt always perceived from within the private context of the beholder. Anyway, I lightened up and decided to make a piece triggered by that experience. Here's "Prenez soin de vos seins," -Take Care of your Breasts.- It's a triptych, the message is important, publicly, but it's also a highly personal&private ;-) piece. It's my homage to my body that once was.

Inner Landscape #7-Bust

2009-08-11T13:53:00.003+02:00

Mixed media, acrylic&mono, 9 by 12 inches.

I rarely think about my previous breasts. How should I call them now? My previous breasts, my original breasts, my own breasts, my God-given breasts? They're gone and hopefully the cancer with them. They felt strange and spongy from within during the months leading up to the diagnosis. Probably cystic tissue. The reconstruction gave me new breasts. I love them. They're beautiful. I see them as my breasts though they're not real breasts of course...I still don't have the areola tattoos. Maybe I won't get them. For now there's too much going on on them color-wise because of the scars. Tattooing now doesn't feel right, artistically ;-)

Three Ages of Woman*

2009-08-01T16:57:00.015+02:00

-The Personal is Political-

Modified pic, Klimt, The Three Ages of Woman.

I've been reading Wall and Piece, by British graffiti-artist Banksy . I love his works because the messages are crystal clear and sharp. Some of his 'vandalised paintings,' he clandestinely hung in museums, stayed there for days before they were noticed. Fantastic! So, inspired by him, here's my Three Ages of Woman, it might be the start of a series...maybe even the start of some...excursions?...

La Mirada #5-Serendipity

2009-07-28T07:29:00.013+02:00

I've been taking pictures of my new torso for "The Breast Portrait Project," a project by my friend Clarity Haynes. This one came out over-exposed and vague. But I guess in art it's all about shadows and light, so it's quite useable. My face wasn't all that important for the pic ;-) But as it turns out, I find the expression, coincidentally caught, to be grasping. I see something in it that's new-like my new body. I can't describe what it is that I see, but I'm calmly happy when I look at this pic. I'm sure I could use it in a painting, but I feel humbled by serendipity ;-)

Btw, Clarity is looking for models to continue the Breast Portrait Project, the pieces are amazing, if you're interested&in the Brooklyn NY area, contact her!

Inner Landscape #6-Petrification

2009-07-14T17:22:00.012+02:00

-Calcifications/breastcancer.org -

Calcifications are tiny flecks of calcium-like grains of salt-in the soft tissue of the breast that can sometimes indicate the presence of an early breast cancer. Calcifications usually can't be felt, but they appear on a mammogram. Depending on how they're clustered and their shape, size, and number, your doctor may want to do further tests.

Pastel painting, 19 by 19inches.

That night in August I thought it was a dry raisin from breakfast sticking to my pajama top. Realizing it was a hard thing the size of a long rice grain in my breast-exactly where later one of the lesions was found-made my blood rush to my head.

Some of my doctors voiced their utter surprise at finding I had breast cancer (and thereby cancer #2). They certainly hadn’t felt anything lumplike at the physical exam. That had reassured me. The oncologist had sent me off not immediately seeing why a biopsy was advised-on the basis of some calcifications noticed in the mammo/echo-but scheduled one anyway after he had looked at all the images. Maximum surprise impact when at the second consultation he explained the diagnosis. I would have liked it if he had spontaneously said something like “the lab results show that you have cancer in both breasts, I did not expect this at all in your case.” I-not we, the team-I don’t see the team, ever. Simple enough. Didn’t happen. And though I am otherwise extremely appreciative of my oncologist, there lies some (unmentionable, certainly unmentioned) irritation. Maybe I am/was hypersensitive? From that time on I was dealing with 2 cancers. Possibly. Maybe saying something like that would not have fit within the balance between distance and concern for the patient, doctors very understandably need to maintain. Seriously? I don’t know. I do know that if I hold on to this unfixable (bygones) frustration, it will eventually petrify in my inner landscape of memories and experiences. And thát I do not want.

A Book about Death-NYC 10-22 September 2009.

2009-07-11T13:37:00.028+02:00

My postcard was designed by zoe hiigli, a friend of mine.

Today I wanted to think about death... ;-) I was looking at the entries for the A Book About Death- project for which I sent in something a while ago. I had just finished my painting "Thinking about Dying," which turned out to be the perfect piece to work with. I follow the project's blog and I find myself almost "hungrily" looking at all the other entries. Some "pages" are like thoughts on death as a natural part of our (inner) world, at least that's how I'm seeing it. Natural, not just because we're artists, but because we're sentient beings, limited and finite. I think that's what fascinates me. It's A Book about Life that way just as much as it is A Book about Death. Possibly, my hunger to see reveals a hunger for life, which is great to discover after my cancer history... death seems to be so much nearer... I even made some friends there along the (living) way. If that's what participating brought me, I'm extremely grateful to be a part of it.

The exhibition in NYC will open next September. Maybe you can see me coming? If any artistic souls fly by here, send something in will you, the deadline is September 5th.

Here's the info on the blog A Book About Death, and here's the project's site.
And below I added the YouTube video made about the project after the opening.

La Mirada #4-The Look #4-Isolation

2009-07-03T17:11:00.009+02:00

Just a sketch drawing with painted cempasúchil , 12 by 16 inches.

I added the instruction leaflet for the Radioactive Iodine Treatment (May 26th. 2005) I stayed 5 days in isolation for.

Sometimes I catch the look in the bathroom mirror or in a shop window. Most of the times, I get a shock thinking: "there's somebody there, looking back at me." It's hard to describe, it's a look of compactness, a "knowing" look?, some darkness too... Do I look at others like that? I think sometimes I do.
I don't "look" for the look, it's not something I can consciously switch on. But then, its darkness and strength come with something to be dark about and strong through... Maybe its flip side is chaos, fear, not knowing and loss of control. Who wants to look at the world like that all the time? Who wants to catch that look in the bathroom mirror in the mornings?

Inner Landscape #5-Corporalidad-Corporeality

2009-06-22T10:27:00.015+02:00

-The Body, Nothing Else-

-The Human Body is the Instrument through which Life is lived, Martha Graham.-

Pastel painting, 13 by 13 inches.

I don't understand the idea that getting cancer would be a betrayal of the body. My body works incredibly well, it reacts in tone with treatments. The zillion reactions that go on at once, why would you expect it to be faultless? My body is on my side, unconditionally- the stuff I sometimes eat... And then at (cancer) times my body can't do it all on its own and needs help, meds, surgery, radiation...and when these don't help anymore, I'll die...and I think that's ok... It's a Buddhist idea: the body is finite and has its limitations; you have a body, hence you know suffering. But also: how else would I be able to experience compassion than through the body?

In this piece I added polygonal elements, inspired by an artist friend of mine, John Hiigli, who (to me) is fascinated by shapes, transparencies, symmetries, mathematical polygons... I think these also "fit" the chemical/material stuff in our bodies...

Inner Landscape #4-Oscuridad-Darkness

2009-06-08T20:22:00.005+02:00

Monoprint, 10 by 10 inches.

After the thyroidectomy, when I was put on Levothyroxine to replace my thyroid hormone, I remember wondering if I would still be me on this little white daily pill, seeing that it's such an essential key hormone. As if she sensed my unvoiced concern, the doctor explained that my body would not be able to notice that the hormone was available from another source (digestion) than the thyroid....I thought, but I'll know...I wondered if I'd lose my colors, so to speak, if my personality would change, if my base mood (calm, dark maybe, prone to depression and serious) would be different...Four years later, my colors are more vibrant than ever, my base mood is (generally) up, my character hasn't changed per se...so I'm wondering now if my darker take on life before was perhaps cancer related. And maybe now I'm more me than I ever was.

Frustration

2009-05-31T10:45:00.001+02:00

"... No, it is impossible; it is impossible to convey the life-sensation of any given epoch of one's existence - that which makes its truth, its meaning - its subtle and penetrating essence. It is impossible. We live, as we dream - alone..."

Joseph Conrad - from Heart of Darkness

La Mirada #3-Hilo de mi sangre-Thread of Life

2009-05-26T18:07:00.011+02:00

-Hilo de mi sangre ¿quién te enrollará? (thread of my blood, who will wind you on the bobbin?) is a line from "Mi Corazón Me Recuerda," a song by Lila Downs-

Pencil drawing + watercolor sketch (the paper has curled a bit), 9 by 12 inches.

I feel the thyroid cancer is the "dirtiest" of the two, don't ask me why... Maybe because the thyroid controls body metabolisms all over and the cancer has been slowly sucking up my life energy. To me it feels as if it monitors its own growth so as to avoid early detection...as if the cells know when they have to go into sleep-mode, "let's go on hold, we're pushing the neck structures too much, the host is getting dizzy, she needs some adjusting before we proceed again..." Dirty.

Inner Landscape #3-Elysium

2009-05-10T11:25:00.008+02:00

-Elysium=Tα Hλύσια πεδία-winking at my Greek teacher-

Acrylic on (watercolor) paper, 8,5 by 11,5 inches.

Surely landscapes can depict my "cancer-adventures" just as well. In this one, the water is still enough to reflect the trees, while something seems to be brewing in that forest, friendly or evil...my journey takes me to its shore...

Some people call us "survivors," "heroes," "sheroes" even on Oprah...I just consider myself extraordinarily lucky and feel intensely grateful...
The Elysium is the place where in Greek Antiquity the heroes went to when they were slain: Hector, Hercules, Odysseus...After seeing Gladiator and Troy, that sounds adventurous, let me land there then...

La Mirada #1-The Look #1

2009-05-03T16:35:00.007+02:00

-shadows and dust-

Acrylic on paper, 14 by 19 inches, the study is an earlier post.

"Shadows and dust" is a line from the movie Gladiator I was watching one evening. It's just spot on for this piece. All we are is shadows and dust. Pure Plato's Cave. Though having these two cancers won't kill me-hopefully...statistics...let me be careful-one day I'll die, but "not yet, not yet..."-also from Gladiator actually. In the meanwhile, to paraphrase Kris Carr, they're both pushing me (hard) to live.

La Mirada #2-The Look #2

2009-04-27T16:46:00.008+02:00

Mixed media-collage on paper, 1,5 by 5 inches.

One night, after I was diagnosed with breast cancer and was to pass a battery of pre-op tests, I woke up and just laid staring on my pillow. I remember the stare well: thoughts were floating through my mind, like a stream, I wasn't fringing, held no focus, no muscle tensed at all...Would that have been the look of acceptance, I wonder?...A therapist/sexologist explained in his talk that we're undergoing treatments and are given drugs and they all come with instruction leaflets...We're all prescribed "acceptance," but for that, there's no leaflet included....

This piece is a fragment of my entry for chromatophore, a mail-art project.

State of Mind

2009-04-17T11:30:00.003+02:00

I guess I could be pretty pissed off about what happened to me.

But it's hard to stay mad when there's so much beauty in the world.
Sometimes I feel like I'm seeing it all at once,
and it's too much.
My heart fills up like a balloon that's about to burst…
And then I remember to relax
and stop trying to hold on to it so much...
And then it flows through me,
like rain...
And I can't feel anything
but gratitude
for every single moment
of my stupid little life.

from the movie "American Beauty," last frames.

Preparing La Mirada #1-The Look #1

2009-04-09T16:16:00.005+02:00

This is a study for "La Mirada #1," I'll be working on next.

A Book About Death

2009-03-24T14:03:00.013+01:00

A BOOK ABOUT DEATH: AN UNBOUND BOOK ON THE SUBJECT OF DEATH

Opening, Thursday, 10 September 2009.

Exhibition: 10 - 22 September 2009.

Emily Harvey Foundation 537 Broadway New York City, New York 10012 USA

A BOOK ABOUT DEATH is an open, unbound book produced by artists worldwide. Artists are invited to create a page in the form of a postcard about death– any aspect about death. Works should be of any design, personal or conceptual, color or black and white. The original works, or writings, and the postcards produced for the exhibition, should address the topic of death.

A BOOK ABOUT DEATH takes its inspiration from the late, underground American artist Ray Johnson (1927 - 1995). Ray Johnson’s unbound “book” of the same title was mailed to his New York Correspondence School “students” and included pages in his idiosyncratic style that were funny, sad and ironic “one-page essays” on death. With the A BOOK ABOUT DEATH project, artists are invited to plunge into subject in creating their own pages that score the dramatic final dance of death.

More info on http://abookaboutdeath.blogspot.com/

I'll be participating using "Thinking about Dying," below, see entry #6. My postcard was designed by 108design.net

The Book

2009-03-19T16:06:00.015+01:00

-"Everyday I write the book," is the title of a song by Elvis Costello-

Drawing on cardboard, collage, pencil and watercolor, 8 by 10 inches.

Prologue

Getting down to the basics:

The body is finite and limited,

life is fragile and precious.

Chapter1

I have thyroid cancer.

Chapter2

I have breast cancer.

Chapter3

Coping?
Words, ideas, thoughts, projects,

body follow-up, fears, hope...

Epilogue

Not in sight yet...maybe living the basics=vitality?

Pensando en morir-Thinking about Dying

2009-03-15T16:14:00.021+01:00

Acrylic on canvas, 7.5 by 10 inches.

Soon this space will be too small

And I'll go outside

To the huge hillside

Where the wild wind blows

And the cold stars shine

Soon this space will be too small

And I'll laugh so hard

That the walls cave in

And I'll die three times

And be born again

In a little box with a golden key

And a flying fish will set me free

Soon this space will be too small

All my veins and bones

Will be burned to dust

You can throw me into a black iron pot

And my dust will tell

What my flesh would not...

excerpts from Lhasa's song “Soon this space will be too small,” on the album “The Living Road.” Friends will recognize the laughing hard part ;)-

Thoughts about dying came as I was rolled into the operating room and was being prepared for my breast cancer surgeries. I thought, soon I’ll be under anesthesia and I’ll “fall” out of my consciousness, and then as suddenly as with a snap of the fingers, I’ll be in it again. Whether the surgery lasts for four hours or ten, it doesn’t make any difference. It is truly “lost” time, where the “I” doesn’t exist. I got to thinking that’s what may happen when I’ll die: I'll fall out of my consciousness, abruptly, but I won't fall back into it., no more snap of the fingers, I'm back. I myself won’t suffer from being dead, “I” won’t even know. Those I leave behind will.

It’s that absolute fragility and unbearable abruptness of the moment of dying that makes life itself much more precious to me now. It makes my loved ones’ lives and my friends’ lives much more precious as it does the moments in which there is “real contact” with people I meet along the way of living. When in that meeting, they’re present in the moment and I’m present, something intensely beautiful can happen. Another thing I realized is that I now have a heightened respect for bones. Bones sum up all the precious fragility of that specific person. The bones contain it all.

I based this piece on Frida Kahlo’s painting, “Pensando en la muerte.” She puts the insertion on her forehead above her magnificent eyebrows. I wanted to put it near my heart. With every existentially important moment I got/get a physiological sensation that my heart “opens up.” I’m not talking about the psychological impact or about emotions, maybe rather the physiological fiber of that... So, it seems only right to put the insertion there. The heart marks the spot.

Inner Landscape #2-Duda-Doubt

2009-02-27T15:11:00.006+01:00

-sea lo que sea, y eso es mantenerse firme-

Monoprint, 10 by 10 inches.

Waiting for lab results lifted me out of the tangible, concrete world everybody else continued going about their usual business in. The “not knowing” got filled with scenarios, doom thinking, and what ifs. Emotions were easily picked up along the way as thought processes spiraled…And there I was: trapped in a cocoon where vision is cluttered and hope is lost…Till one day I deeply knew: whether I’m optimistic or pessimistic, whether I’m angry or not, whether I cry or scream or stay silent, whether I question all of this or not, whether I anticipate or whether I’m scared, whether I’m hoping or feel desperate…it has no bearing whatsoever on the outcome of this….I’ll have to take it for what it is…I’ll take it as it is… And that’s (my) resilience right there.

Los médicos-The Doctors

2009-02-12T16:47:00.012+01:00

Acrylic on paper, 12 by 16 inches.

I have ambivalent feelings towards the hospital. I feel safe there, because everybody who works there, is on my side against the cancers. I also feel an aversion to it. Being treated felt as if in icy cold my upper skin layer was chafed leaving the flesh underneath open, while I had to lie still as they poked and prodded, stuck needles into me and cut in me...Before you know it, you've become an object, and that's cold...I'm grateful to the doctors and nurses who were sensitive to that and lifted me back to the status of a sentient being of warm flesh and blood with a small gesture (eye contact!, a smile, a slight touch, laughing with me at something totally futile, because sometimes I desperately tried to provoke it and tried to crack a joke...) In those instances of contact, I could relax a bit. There lie the good memories. When nothing like that happened, I braced myself and tried not to take things personally. Within a poignant cancer treatment trajectory, and then a second one, that was tough...

I feel sad myself when I look at this piece. But it also has something of a votive painting like Kahlo made after her bus accident: I can see something merciful in it...

Autorretrato sonriendo-Self Portrait

2009-02-11T17:02:00.004+01:00

Pencil on paper, 10 by 11 inches.

I made this drawing a year ago almost to the day. The text beneath it says:
"Here I have drawn myself, Ria VdE. I'm 48 and I'm surviving 2 cancers. I'm feeling well. I notice there are moments in which I'm very visible to others and yet I don't "show myself" easily..."

Ramo con cempasúchil-Bouquet with Flower of the Dead

2009-02-02T12:01:00.006+01:00

-The body is finite and limited, life is fragile and precious-

Acrylic and crayon on paper, 10 by 11 inches.

"Viva la Vida, Viva la Muerte" is an expression from the Mexican Day of the Dead tradition, which is about recognizing and honoring deceased ancestors. In my works I see it as an expression of gratitude for all my previous "selves" that I've shed with the cancers, that have passed on in a way. They have struggled themselves with their own life crises and left me with what they learned from that as a heritage. I see "Viva la Vida, Viva la Muerte" as a celebration of life in a "small" way, nothing metaphysical, rather in a sensory, corporeal way...

Vitalidad-Vitality

2009-01-27T10:43:00.012+01:00

Watercolor, crayon and collage on paper, 6.5 by 7.5 inches.

This piece is now in a private collection.

This is a study I made in summer for my submission to the LillyOncologyOnCanvas Competition and Exhibition. I only changed some small things in the final painting, which is an acrylic on canvas. The painting itself is taking part in the 2009 LillyOncologyOnCanvas touring exhibit which will be on view in cancer centers, hospitals and patient advocacy groups across the US and Puerto Rico.

Irreversibilidad-Irreversibility

2009-01-23T16:07:00.010+01:00

Mixed media, pastel, collage and acrylic on paper, 12 by 16 inches.

Pine trees outside my hospital room window.

After the first breast cancer surgery, I stayed long in the recovery area. As I felt myself gradually waking up, I was reluctant to open my eyes, desperately postponing the moment that I had to become aware of what it physically meant to have had an amputation, two lymph node dissections and feel two flanks full of drainage tubes. Outside my hospital room window, no moon, total silence, there stood a row of pine trees, like a Greek chorus to all the tragedies unfolding inside...

The skeleton on my bed, as I now know (see "Birth"), represents my resilience - flesh, blood and bones. You only get to know your resilience when all your certainties fall away...

Paisaje interior #1-Inner Landscape #1

2009-01-11T12:58:00.009+01:00

Acrylic on paper, 9 by 10 inches, framed behind glass.

This piece started out as merely an exercise: painting a semi-abstract starting from a collage. I remember cutting out and assembling different parts of images from magazines (fabric, hair, food, and what have you) towards a coherent picture, all the while thinking I was fragmented the same way myself and lost amongst the pieces dropped with the cancer diagnosis. Before I was diagnosed, I did a myriad of different things. I have a Ph.D. in mathematics, taught it, did a Gestalt therapy training, studied Applied Ethics, Buddhism, ... Between my surgeries I often thought : "5 or so degrees and what good are they to me now..." So I guess it belongs here after all... The painting hangs in my hallway, I look at it often. I'm getting to see its diverse fragments as part of an inner landscape, it makes sense as a momentary snapshot of my inner world. The other day, I looked at it and noticed a waterfall on the right... I thought: "I have a waterfall in my inner world..." Yeah...

Polilla-Moth

2008-12-20T17:48:00.013+01:00

-March 2005, thyroid cancer-

Acrylic on canvas, 8 by 10 inches.

from endocrineweb.com:

The thyroid gland is the biggest gland in the neck. It is situated in the anterior (front) neck below the skin and muscle layers. The thyroid gland takes the shape of a butterfly with the two wings being represented by the left and right thyroid lobes which wrap around the trachea. The sole function of the thyroid is to make thyroid hormone. This hormone has an effect on nearly all tissues of the body where it increases cellular activity.

Autorretrato con cempasuchiles-Self Portrait with Marigolds

2008-12-07T14:28:00.012+01:00

"The future's so bright I gotta wear shades." (a song by Timbuk3)

Acrylics on paper, 12 by 16 inches, winking at Gauguin.

La diagnosis-The Diagnosis

2008-11-19T10:25:00.010+01:00

-sea lo que sea-

Gouache, acrylic and ballpoint on cardboard, 10by14,5in.

Going through two cancers, I got a hell of a training in staying comfortable with "not knowing." You get challenged, cause most people mean well and want to hear you say everything will be fine-no way you get two cancers in less than a year.
I didn't want to comply anymore-it is what it is anyway. I'll take it that way.

Nacimiento-Birth

2008-11-07T16:58:00.009+01:00

"Turn me inside out so that my bones can save me..." a line from "My Name," by Lhasa on the album "The Living Road."

Acrylic on paper, 12 by16 inches.

I enjoyed making this painting based on Edvard Munch's "Puberty," for two reasons. I "know" the posture and after the reconstruction and loosing quite some weight, I feel thrown back to the puberty-period of my life again. In the mirror I see a young girl's breasts, albeit with scars and no areola tattoos yet-it's quite poignant. In the shadow on the right I painted a skeleton with a colorful skull that bears my name. This type of skeleton is an important figure in the Mexican Day of the Dead tradition. Colorful sugar skulls bear the name of the deceased and marigolds attract the spirit of the deceased towards offerings of food and flowers prepared for him or her. In my imagination, the skeleton stands for my strength which is embedded in my bones and comes from former selves (from before or during the cancers) that have transformed or died in a sense. The marigold on the bed attracts that wisdom to me now and a new Ria is being born, I guess...It's a fragile image, that's why I painted myself with closed eyes, I don't own it yet.

Egg

2008-11-04T16:34:00.006+01:00

This is a small work I made in 2003, it's only 2"on 2,8", ballpoint and color pencil. I mixed in some medium for texture, I don't remember now what it was ;-) The word "ei" is Dutch for egg.

Compasión-Compassion

2008-11-04T15:11:00.023+01:00

Acrylic and pencil on paper, 10,5 by 14 inches.

In 1932 Frida Kahlo made a lithography, "Frida and the abortion," documenting one of her miscarriages. I leaned heavily on that lithography to make this drawing in which I, in my turn, want to document different medical interventions I underwent and suffered from over the years.
In the top left corner, I wrote: "My heart reminds me that I need to cry over my changing body, and over the body I have lost," paraphrasing a line from a song by Lila Downs on "La Linea."
Above the skull I wrote: "This material body is merely transitory." The skull itself is an image from the Mexican "Day of the Dead" tradition. In that tradition colorful sugar skulls are used to decorate home altars, family grave sites or store windows. They usually bare the name of the deceased that is remembered.
To the left of the skull I wrote, "While the loss was consuming me, my fields were already turning green," paraphrasing the dedication to Maria Eliada from the movie "21 gramms," by Alejandro González Iñárritu and which to me expresses strong resilience. All these words offered-and still offer-me comfort, compassion, hence the title I chose.
To depict the thyroid cancer, I used a moth, sucking up my life's blood.
For the fetuslike figures on the left I used the work posted above which I made long after the surgery on my uterus, now ten years ago. It's called "Egg."
To the right I wrote in the margin of the drawing: "Words fall short of the experience." Words only touch the surface of what I went through.

La amputación-The Amputation

2008-11-03T14:45:00.011+01:00

Acrylics on canvas 12 by 16 inches.

On February 1st. 2006, I underwent my first surgery. In the hours leading up to it, while having the lump on the right marked and going for a scintigraphy to locate the sentinel, I felt completely alone and shiveringly cold. I wrote on the painting: "On February 1st. 2006, it was freezing cold during the day, totally befitting what was about to happen. That day they amputated my left breast."
On the curtains I wrote: "Whatever is in the future will also become a memory, what is in the past will not be seen again," a Buddhist line that helped me get through stressing times like having preop tests done, waiting for tests, waiting for test results...