Tuesday, March 23, 2010
work in progress
Here's how it went...I finally got the balls to have the damn creepy alleged dermoid (ew look it up)-but which instead actually turned out to merely be a fibroid-taken out surgically (but only because my kids really wanted me too) and out it went, along with that sadly overwhelmed ovary.
I don't really need either ovary anymore, so goodbye, but in truth even though I have accomplished the 'change' of menopause (what a dumb name, of course, most words for womens issues are steeped in patriarchal negatives...for instance, men who have an array of sexual partners are still studs, while we are whores, sluts, etc...) anyway I still kindof like that I have one ovary left. I liked my periods, I miss them. They made me feel like a woman. I know some of you have rough periods and awful stuff like endometriosis, and you wish your periods were over, and for you I wish they were too, but what all of a sudden pisses me off at this moment is that as common as endometrious is, and as hard to spell, when the red line appears under it, it has yet to make the roster of spellcheck. Unfuck you whoever is responsible)
Anyway my kids visited me in the hospital, and brought me many sweet things, one of which was a sketchbook of mine, just in case I would want to draw or something instead of gaze in unnatural contentment at the nice nurses or the tv in that sweet drugged stupor of pain meds.
And that's why I am painting this piece, 'woman child staff'. My excellent doctor, who was a lawyer first and has five kids, sat down for an hour, because she's cool, (and had to be in hospital cause a patient was in labor) and we got to know each other. She saw the original sketch of this, which I had drawn from a brochure I got in the mail, maybe from Oxfam or Heifer International, and said that a painting like this would be great for her office.
Maybe she'll buy it when it's done, maybe she won't. But she drew me into the next realm of knowing what I wanted to do with my art, and here it is, one message to my fellow human beings, not quite finished, but from my heart, and likely my ovary too.