Catching some breaks

Today has been rather wonderful, and I’ve soaked up every minute of it. I’ve visited or been visited by various lovely people collecting artworks from my exhibition, which made me feel a little like santa and means I’ve had lots of great conversations. We also had lovely friends around for dinner and board games, and I’ve done three loads of washing for my sister and partner, with lots of eucalyptus oil to help get out the burnt smell from the fire. It’s all hanging up waiting to be rained on tomorrow because that’s the most effective smoke remover I’ve come across.

The kitchen is clean, I feel useful, I’m looking forward to a really interesting birth class with our lovely doula tomorrow, and right now I’m happily snugged up in bed with a notepad and pens for sketching.

Third trimester pregnancy is much better than the first two for me! I have a lot more energy (comparatively speaking), I can eat more foods – I’ve finally put on some weight!, and I actually have days when I’m enjoying being pregnant rather than just enduring it. Excited about this little one and the big changes ahead of us. Bubs kicks like a horse at the moment and I’m starting to get a little whirlpool of stretch marks around my belly button. I’m pretty big now, and when little frog gets moving people across the room can see my belly jump.

It’s been a really good day. I’m happy. Baby is kicking. Rose has nearly finished her cert 3. Star is going brilliantly at school. And I’ve been invited to submit a resume to a local community arts organisation. Eee! Welfare have finally come through for Star so Rose did a big shop today and stocked up on food and cleaning supplies and pet food and everything else we’ve been running low on for months. Our pantry is stocked and our fridge is full. Things are looking up. 🙂

House Fire

This was a tough week for my tribe. My sister and her girlfriend suffered a terrible fire that destroyed a lot of property. Fortunately both are safe, but the losses have been huge and the clean-up job is ongoing. The cause of the fire cannot be officially determined, leaving the unsettling possibility that it may have been deliberately set. My sister lost some clothes, shoes, and other belongings, and more devastatingly, the beautiful hand painted 4 wheel drive campervan she’d laboured over and kitted out for the past couple of years.

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Her partner was even less fortunate. The fire destroyed her yard, beautiful painted trailer, and got into her home. She’s lost most of her clothes, shoes, personal possessions, a great many irreplaceable items of sentimental value, and even those areas that aren’t directly scorched have been significantly smoke or water damaged. She’s had to move out on the spot and both of them are currently embroiled in insurance paperwork and moving and cleaning what belongings can be salvaged.

House Fire

So, we’ve all been busy. I can’t go near the home itself as pregnant people and smoky burned out areas full of asbestos and melted plastic are not a good mix. So I’ve been helping out in the background by baking and cooking (I’ve never made an I’m sorry most of your things got burned cake before – seems so inadequate but at the same time, so much better than not doing anything!) and helping with some cleaning. Clothes and bedding that has been salvaged needs cycle after cycle of washing to start to reduce the stench of smoke in the fabric. Even the clothes hangers saved needed to be soaked and scrubbed. Everyone is tired and as the shock starts to wear off the losses hit. It’s been a long week.

These two are awesome. They’re using a lot of black humor and taking good care of each other. I’m very proud of them and sad for them and glad to have them as part of my tribe. With some hard work and patience they will rebuild what they can and mourn what can’t be recovered. Friends and family are helping out by donating money or furniture or clothes, or helping with moving and rearranging as they can. They both had insurance but it will only cover a part of what has been lost.

If you can help out there is a bank account set up, or you could donate through this blog and put ‘Kellie’ as the subject. Alternatively you could contact me to ask about any items they may be needing.

NAB
BSB: 083-832
A/c Number: 943857747
A/c Name: Miss Kellie Walduck

Otherwise – check your smoke alarms, have a fire plan, make sure you have contents/car insurance if at all possible, and be careful. Fires are devastating, incredibly rapid, and often totally unexpected. Take care of your folks.

IDAHOT Picnic & 28 weeks pregnant

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I volunteered to cut the rainbow cake. I usually do this at family events – I took over from my grandpa when I was a young teen, because he used to do that cut a random size slice and then another random size slice thing, and we’d all pass the slices around the table as he went… thin slices got passed on quickly, thick slices were lingered over like a game of musical chairs but with cake. Inevitably some were deeply disappointed with the slice that settled on them. A quick head count and a little math solves that issue!

IDAHOT is the international day against homophobia, biphobia and transphobia. I waddled up following a morning at the printer and framer putting in the final orders for my exhibition, which comes down this Friday! It was a good, fun event and nice to see friends there I haven’t caught up with for awhile. Rose stayed home and used the time to get lots of homework done on my computer. I stayed out and pretended I’m not possessive and territorial about my computer. I’ve coped pretty well with sharing the rest of my home with everyone else, but my computer and studio (ie table) do bring a slightly crazed one-eyed barky critter out in me.

There was a cool badge maker there so I made this for Rose:
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Pain levels are still very high, I’ve been re-reading Explaining Pain which was a good refresher, but woke at 3am to cry about how hard this is, and sad, and all the wasted years being sick and swamped by pain. Sometimes even the encouraging and helpful triggers such grief and regret. Bubs is head down most of the time, which is causing bad sciatica, hip pain is bad, and heartburn is bad. I have finally put a bit of weight on this pregnancy though, which is great news. Fibro is a bitch, I’m getting bad facial pain, a twitchy bladder (not the same as pregnancy needing to pee every few minutes), muscle cramps in my calves, chronically irritated skin, and fun new sensitivities. I’ve asked for a referral to the psych team at the hospital as I’m getting nervous about how well I’ll recover from birth and worried about being stuck in hospital needing support. The psych team are the only ones who can override the usual rules about partners being kicked out overnight. The prospect of being forced to be left alone overnight in severe pain with our little baby to care for as well as me is a bit harrowing. If anything has gone wrong and I’m feeling emotionally fragile too, hospital is a horrible environment for me. I recall once waking to find night nurse trying to do obs in the small hours of the morning following my appendix being removed. She touched me while I was sleeping and I woke the whole ward with a blood curdling scream and had clawed my way to the far side of the bed before I’d even opened my eyes. When I did I found I was perched on the edge of the bed about to fall/leap out, and the poor nurse was flattened against the far wall. Following that was the slow wail of all the infants in the ward protesting. I don’t know what adding a small baby I feel intensely protective about might do to that reaction but I suspect ‘downgrade it’ isn’t the usual answer.

Baby is growing well, I’ve been doing finger-prick tests and my results are all great re gestational diabetes, and there’s loads of movement and kicks. We’re into the countdown now and I’m looking forward to having more of the house and sheds sorted ready for arrival. In other news, having made us wait an extra 6 or so weeks for our assigned midwife to come back to work, it turns out she’ll be on maternity leave when our baby is due, so we’re being reassigned anyway. There’s a strange sense of hype and disappointment about the whole process with our hospital. We’ve only had two appointments with our midwife so far, the first we spent talking about delivery options and preferences and worries, the second we discovered she’s not going to be here anyway. It’s odd, because I know that we’re very, very lucky to have access to the healthcare we do here in Australia, but there’s this sense of indifference that’s unpleasant, being very small parts of a much larger machine and having very few choices and little power to influence anything. It makes me want to run away and give birth in the bush.

On the plus side though, my appt with the hospital anaesthologist was surprisingly excellent. I’ve never had a good appt with an anaesthetic doctor before, usually they don’t beleive me about my allergies, or they freak out and make me undergo procedures like endoscopies without any. This guy was excellent, he listened, asked intelligent questions, gave me good information about options and how to get the most out of them (did you know gas and air works best if you start it at the beginning of a contraction, count through them, and stop it about 2 breaths before the peak? This allows it time to be effective but lets you ride the last of it without having much in your system for the rest periods, which reduces the chance of side effects). We wound up talking about self hypnosis and he walked me through a short technique for self hypnosis which I took to. It was a good appointment to follow the others with, I felt like there was actually a point to turning up and that in among the grinding machinery of a big public hospital, the endless waiting and being shunted from service to service, there were little treasures of useful information and ideas. Hooray for those.

Gilding

So, yesterday morning I was eating a bowl of porridge in front of a financial counsellor as we tried to look for ways to keep supporting the three of us on the two incomes we have at the moment. (welfare are still dragging their feet about their obligations to Star, so nearly 4 months together we’re still struggling financially) I’d used breakfast time to put on loads of washing. Rose was home sick in bed following a night of asthma attacks and nebuliser. Star was sick at school and I was on standby to go and pick her up if she didn’t improve soon. And I was trying to have breakfast and get through all my errands without dropping any balls. Ah, the life of a parent!

Today I’m home. A whole, uninterrupted workday is music to my ears! Working from home when we’re all sharing the same space and my art studio now doubles as my admin space, the dining table, and study space for others is frankly painful. Getting things done while my household are out studying is my best bet, but it’s also prime appointment time which means hours stuck in waiting rooms and driving or bus-ing around the countryside.

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Mid-afternoon and my table looks like this. I’ve been able to gild all the prints that have been ordered for Waiting for You. I’ve also spent some time researching and testing a few different gesso/size products (these are the ‘glue’ that binds the gold leaf) to see how they work using different tools and papers and which might be most suitable for various applications. I haven’t been successful yet in finding anyone to teach me gilding techniques in Adelaide, so I’m learning from reading online, youtube videos, and trial and error. I’m extremely tired but happy with my work. It’s a joy.

Following up Waiting for You

I’ve been working on filling the art orders from the opening night of my exhibition Waiting for You. The exhibition is only open for another 7 viewing days (Mon – Fri 4-6pm), so if you haven’t made it in yet you’d best get your skates on!

I delivered this beautiful notebook today to a lovely person who was at the opening and particularly fell in love with this artwork. I ordered it in especially and was really happy with how it turned out on this blank notebook, just beautiful. 🙂

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Of the prints I’ve had ordered for embellishment – in this case the customer asked for a print to be made much larger than the original so they could see the tiny details better. This is about 1 and a half times larger and it’s stunning. If I’m able to hold this exhibition again I think I will display this artwork at this size instead. I’m planning to do all my embellishing of prints tomorrow so that I can send the prints that need it in for framing next. Everything is on track to be ready by the close of the exhibition on May 20th.

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I’ve also created a keepsake for the exhibition, this little booklet. It’s free, on display at the exhibition (or I can send you one). It contains a short biography, description of the origin of the exhibition, price lists of the art, information about the artbook Mourning the Unborn, and links to Sands and other online resources.

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I’ve also placed free brochures for Sands on display by the exhibition for guests. There’s also a little visitors book for people to leave thoughts and messages.

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I’m speaking for IDAHOT

Edit: Sadly this event has been cancelled 😦

Come and join us for International Day Against Homophobia, Transphobia, and Biphobia (IDAHOT). SHineSA are hosting a ReFRESH forum in the afternoon of May 17th in Woodville. There will also be an interactive panel, resources, and most importantly of all, rainbow cake. (although I’m not baking this one) There is a cost and you do need to enrol. You can find all the details in a print ready pdf here and the enrolment online system, which is still open, is here.

“Sarah is an amazing individual who is part of the queer community, a consumer of mental health services, and also a worker in the sector. With an open and creative approach she will take a fresh look at self-care – we all hear about it as workers in regard to ourselves and our clients, but how useful is the way we frame it? When self-care becomes more work which is measured in terms of success or failure, and carries with it notions of obligation and shame, can we take stock and look at it in a different way?

The forum on 17 May at Woodville will explore mental health and LGBTI people, with particular reference to some of the people who exist at the intersections in the community: nonbinary/genderqueer people and bisexual/pansexual people.”

I’m very pleased to be speaking at this event, self care is an important topic and one that is often not well handled. I’m also proud to be a visible part of the queer community, speaking to inclusion and diversity in that space.

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My Rainbow Cake for Rose’s birthday a few years ago 🙂

Guest Post for Sands on Mother’s Day

This year I was invited to write a guest post for Sands Australia for Mothers Day, which I was delighted to do. I decided to share some experiences and photos that I haven’t put on this blog before. It’s been a day that Rose and I have struggled to navigate for many years, so I wanted to talk a little about that journey and how we’ve changed our approach over time. You can find it here; Untold stories of Mother’s Day.

This year, Rose, Star, myself and other friends are away camping for the Medieval Fair, which is very tiring but very lovely.

For all those of us for whom this day hurts or brings up complex memories or feelings, I wish you kindness and gentleness. I hope you find places where it is okay to hurt, people who treat you with understanding, and some compassion towards yourself. It’s okay to grieve, okay to be angry, okay to be confused, okay to ignore it completely. Do what you need to do to find some kind of grace, or peace, or way through. With much love xx

Peace

Everything is quiet. The house has been put to bed, the dog put to bed, the lights turned off, the trash taken out, dinner put in the fridge. My people are quiet now, sleeping or close to sleep. Tears dried, cats curled at the foot of beds, appliances turned off. The dishcloth hangs wet over the sink. The moon sets slowly in the kitchen window.

I lie in bed, baby kicking. My lover’s hand rests upon my back. My mind is roiling with the plans of the week. I talk to it soothingly, like a puppy that needs to settle. Time for sleep now, come home. Come back from the world of ideas and into this body. Feel how sleepy it is, how heavy with fatigue. How much it wants to let go and rest, let the night dim the fire in our joints a little. Feel the baby moving, dancing in their world under my skin. They’ll be here soon, so rest. Breathe the night air, deeply, taste the shadows and the dust. Sleep now, be at rest, be at peace.

27 weeks pregnant and rearranging the house

Today has been brilliant. Rose, Star, and I all slept in then spent the day working on the house. We have rearranged sheds, sorted boxes, and changed around furniture to make room for the baby. I’m now in my third trimester! I’m very excited, a bit anxious, very large and awkward, and baby is kicking like a horse. This is what we did today:

Added extra chests of drawers to my study area. Hurrah!
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Took all the dead flowers out of my birthday bouquet.
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Replaced the chest of drawers in the hallway with a much better, prettier one we found on the side of the road awhile back.
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Admired the dryer I was given for my birthday eeeee!
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Installed a new tallboy in our bedroom. Rose picked it up for free and we turned the broken drawer area into a shelf. It is packed full of baby clothes, which is what happens when you have 7 older siblings I guess.
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Moved the bookshelf out of the bedroom and into the dining room and put all my art on it safely away from the dog. Moved the old one cabinet onto the front porch and put all our gardening supplies into it. Sorted the massive collection of gear on the floor in the dining room into the sheds.
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Rewrote the home page on this blog and my Face painting website, edited my Sarah page, changed my Projects page to a Community Networks page, and added an Exhibition page.

Redesigned my business cards, tshirt with logo on it, after-care cards for face painting, and various other marketing things.

Created a final design for a logo I’ve been working on and emailed it to the client.

Sent a blog post out for a guest post I’ve written.

Generally been brilliantly productive and inspired. I am blissfully happy tonight, thrilled to not be sick today and able to be part of the nesting. 🙂 ❤

Beautiful Review of Waiting for You Exhibition

The most lovely article about my exhibition has been written up by artist Julia Wakefield for the Weekend Notes. She attended the opening night and has snapped lovely photos of me and guests and the embellished prints. I look very pregnant and fairly exhausted but the art is glowing. 🙂 She describes it as “a courageous, beautiful exhibition about a taboo subject” and writes about the history of how it all came about as well as her impressions. It’s gorgeous to read and so good to see some photos of the night! I brought my good camera but left my SD card home, so I don’t have a lot of pictures to remember it by. I very much appreciate an article like this! ❤

www.weekendnotes.com/waiting-for-you-art-exhibition-about-pregnancy-loss-and-motherhood-at-the-box-factory/

Sarah K Reece, miscarriage, pregnancy, art, art exhibition, mental health, SANDS, loss, grief, mourning

More positive feedback is coming in from people who couldn’t make the opening night but have attended the exhibition, which is very heart warming. Some people from further away or interstate have expressed interest in an exhibition local to them, which I shall look into the logistics of. The embellished prints I currently have on display are continuing to sell too, which is very exciting! If you’re planning to attend do sing out, if I can I’m happy to meet you there. 🙂

Wonderful Arty Things

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My lovely exhibition Waiting for You is still on display at the Box Factory in Adelaide until May 19. (details here) As I can’t attend every day, I’ve been working on setting up materials that will be helpful to those who couldn’t attend the opening night. Today I finished the final draft of my brochure about the exhibition and had a collection printed, it contains information about me, how the exhibition came about, the artbook Mourning the Unborn, and prices. I bought these stands today, and they are now on display alongside brochures from Sands, all free for anyone. There’s also a display copy of the artbook for people to have a look at.

If you’d like a brochure yourself, Sands have theirs on their website, and I can pop one of mine in the post for you – those of you with orders will get one with your art as a keepsake. 🙂

I’ve also been to the printer this week and placed the opening night orders for art and frames, and the printer there loves my work and has offered to display some framed on his wall, for sale to his customers. How wonderful!

Tomorrow I will be working on a guest post for the Sands blog for Mother’s Day, which I’m very pleased to have been invited to write.

There’s also a review of the exhibition by artist and writer Julia Wakefield, which I feel very fortunate about and will share with you very soon. 🙂

It’s wonderful to see this exhibition/community event continue to grow in various ways beyond the opening night.

Tonight I attended the Healing Voices film and was once again struck by how tremendously important artists of all kinds can be in creating community and bringing issues to light. While many other people did the hard work of organising the screening, artsy people wrote and directed and edited and created the beautiful content that spoke to people. I still lament that there has been no real home for me in mental health locally, but I am feeling great hope and strength in standing on the platform of arts to be part of change in the world. A friend from down south was lamenting the difficult hours that Waiting for You is being exhibited currently, and asked me if I might be interested in finding a hanging space for it in her area sometime. I think that would be a fantastic idea and I am keen to explore other opportunities for the exhibition beyond May.

I’m also quietly giving some thought to World Hearing Voices day coming up later this year and what I might be able to do as an artist to raise awareness and be part of that. There’s a place for me somewhere.

25 weeks pregnant and a week of birthdays

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What a week. Rose and some friends organised a surprise birthday camp-fire night for me a couple of days after the exhibition opening. Once I got over feeling embarrassed and a little overwhelmed, it was the nicest evening. Everyone else did the cooking and organising and running around and I just lit a fire and sat next to it. It was so peaceful and relaxed. We ate baked potatoes and chocolate cake and sat around in the dark telling stories and jokes and listening to songs on the guitar.

I’ve been taking things very gently since the opening night, a fellow artist kindly warned me in advance to expect a crash so I blocked out a number of days to just rest. I thought I would be very emotionally down after the big high, which often happens for me with personal talks in mental health. This was a very personal talk, I read poems about mourning Tamlorn. I’ve never openly wept in front of a room before like that, nor made so many other people cry with my sharing. It was a very precious space.

But the surprise for me was that the crash has been physical with severe pain levels. I must have been more tuned out of my body and pushing it harder on the lead up than I’d realised, because the moment the last guest left the opening night, it hit me so hard I could barely walk. I’ve done not only all the art and framing and hanging work, but so much admin and organising. I cooked two huge pots of soup for the night so had big blisters on my hands from cutting loads of pumpkin and peeling a big bag of potatoes. I was very lucky to have so much help with the set up and pack up from kind friends.

I spent all next day in bed, getting up for short hobbles around the house every 45 minutes to stretch my joints. Since then I’ve spent until noon or later every morning in bed just managing the pain. I was talking to another pregnant woman today who is a few weeks further along than me, and she told me that yes, at 30 weeks she’s just reached that point where the pelvic pain is kicking in and getting a bit uncomfortable. I bit my lip.

So it’s been pretty wonderful to have the recovery time from the opening match up with people being extra lovely to me for my birthday. I’ve been very spoiled and nurtured which has been very appreciated. I’m calling this whole idea of an exhibition for my birthday a win. I’ve been far less stressed than usual about an upcoming birthday, I feel incredibly proud of myself for pulling off such an important event and bringing to life a dream I’ve had for many years, and the opening itself was a tremendous success. I shall definitely be doing it again.

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In the meantime I’m working on the admin and orders from the opening night and doing all the follow up and finish off work to tidy the loose ends. I’ve been debriefing and reflecting on what worked well and what I would do differently next time and capturing as much of that as possible so that it will be easier to do this again. I don’t know if this was a fluke or the start of something great in my life but I’m hoping to build on what worked. It’s the first break I’ve caught in a long while, the first work related endeavour that has turned out well in a long time! I’m celebrating that. And I figure that one of the indicators of a successful project is that in the aftermath of it, I’m actually excited about the next one. ❤

SA Film Screening ‘Healing Voices’

If you’re a South Australian local and interested in mental health, this Friday April 29th is a free/gold coin donation film screening you’ll probably be interested in. All the details in the Hearing Voices Network of SA newsletter here.

First newsletter out in almost a year… Haven’t done one for the DI for the same amount of time. I miss my networks. I wish I could get paid for running them, and wish I had my little team of three to bounce ideas around with… as I’m getting back on my feet and having to pay for domain names being annually renewed and suchlike I’m starting to think more about what to do next and how to support these. Friends came over last night for the most wonderful campfire evening and it was so lovely… and made me miss being able to hang out with my local hearing voices group around a campfire without all the politics and crap about who is allowed to be friends with who… I deserve to be paid for my work, and I have the right to identify as I truly am and be friends with people from whichever category I wish.

I don’t know what the way forwards is yet, but I’m starting to be able to think about it again without being overwhelmed by a sense of failure, anger, pain and loss. Maybe that’s what the Waiting for You exhibition has done for me – given me a sense of having a place somewhere in the world. Maybe I was never meant to live in the world of mental health the way I was trying to build my career. Maybe there’s a home for me in art and a way to do this work that doesn’t exhaust and exploit me or force me to compromise my values. Maybe…

I don’t know. Nothing has worked so far. But I’m learning, through each loss and each dashed dream. I’m trying different approaches. I’ll unlock that door and crack it open a tiny bit, and back away quietly. Maybe some idea will come to me about how to grow these precious networks. Or maybe I’ll find some other, more sustainable way to make a difference in the world.

The Opening Night was incredible

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I’m home in bed, tucked up under an electric blanket to ease the very bad pain I’m in, reflecting on a whirlwind evening. It was an amazing success, whichever way you cut it. The most amazing group of people attended. I sold a lot of art. My talk and poetry were very well received. And the food – and cake especially – were incredible! (thankyou M!) Friends and family pulled together around me, efficiently sorting out the background work. I was stunned by how busy I was, I thought I’d have much more time to talk to everyone. My sales paperwork wasn’t as helpful as I’d hoped it would be, and I was the only one who could work the card reader for most of the night so I was doing a lot more admin and less connecting than I’d hoped… But a self hosted exhibition is a steep learning curve and I have learned so much for next time.

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To everyone who came – thankyou! Thankyou for being there, for crying with me, for buying art, for your gifts and hugs and stories and connection. You have moved me deeply. I sincerely hope that everyone who wept felt safe and accepted, that the pain we touched tonight was healing rather than traumatising. I think we did something special together. I know it was very hard for some of you, very risky, that it took courage and trust in me. I honor that. It was very hard for me too, but very beautiful, very precious. Thankyou for doing it with me.

I know a lot of people couldn’t make it – the exhibition itself is still on for another 4 weeks until May 19th. I’m also going to be getting the rest of the prints up in my online store over the next few days, my artbook is already available and I’m more than happy to sign a copy for you and pop it in the post.

With love xxx

Food, kids, etc – last minute questions

Opening Night!

Tucker:

Yes, there will be food. Myself and other friends are bringing platters of veggies and dip, hot soups, breads and cake. One of the soups is gluten free, dairy free, vegan, and actually still quite tasty. 😉

There will be spring water, juice, and fizzy drinks. This is a alcohol-free event. I can’t drink as I’m pregnant so I don’t see why I should pay for liquor license for you lot to have a glass. 😉

Kids:

Are welcome! Obviously depending on their age you might need to explain some of the topic or discuss some of the artwork with them to help them understand or process. Some of the images are paintings of nudes (not graphic or sexual), there are some stylised depictions of blood, and some are very sad – it’s up to you what you feel is appropriate for your child.

Gifts:

Yes, this is my birthday celebration, but please don’t feel like you have to bring a gift or card. It’s completely fine to just turn up. If you like giving gifts or cards however, then please don’t feel that I’m going to set it on fire if you do. You’re welcome to. If you like the idea of a gift but are short on time or not sure what to do, please consider buying some of my art, or making a donation to Sands SA, who will be there on the night. 🙂

Shopping:

The embellished prints on display are all available to buy, and there will be many other options such as unframed regular prints, and my artbook which you can take home on the night. I can accept cash, card, and paypal. I am also adding content daily to my Etsy online store.

Access:

This is a wheelchair accessible venue with a lift and accessible toilet. There is street parking all around the area on Carrington and Halifax Streets. You can’t drive from Regent Street North to Regent Street South, but there is a path for access on foot if you park on Carrington St.

Freedom & safety for a charged topic

My Waiting for You exhibition opening night is just around the corner and I want to speak briefly about creating safety when dealing with such a painful theme.

For many of us, this is a really charged topic. It’s painful, intense, deeply personal, and may not be something we’ve ever really had a chance to process – much less to engage in a public setting. Breaking taboos can be liberating but also triggering and incredibly distressing. I’m deeply aware of this, because Rose and I are in this place in a very real way, right now. I want to share publicly the same conversations I’m having with her, because I suspect she’s not the only one feeling conflicted. I want to speak into the heart of that conflict because it’s what hurts so badly and makes it so hard for us to talk about these things and know what we need. We often feel pulled in contradictory directions – needing to talk about it/see it in public/bring it to light, and also needing to hide away from it and deal with it in privacy. It can be really hard.

I have taken a number of steps to help the opening night to be a safer space. You can help me with this in how you treat the other guests and yourself. Here are some guidelines and values I’ve set for the evening:

Freedom

  • You are free not to come! I won’t be upset with you if I know you personally. You are not under pressure to attend to support me.
  • You are free to be ambivalent and unsure. It’s okay to decide at the last minute if it feels like a good idea to come. It’s okay to change your mind. Please don’t force yourself to do anything that doesn’t feel like it’s right for you.
  • Free to leave any time you need to. It won’t be ‘rude’ to step out or leave early. No judgement. You’re also welcome to step out for a bit then come back.
  • Free to decide you’d rather attend privately instead of for an open night with other people around.
  • Free to buy something that speaks to you to take home, and free to find the art confronting or disconnected from your experience, and support me in other ways if you want to.

Feelings are okay

  • It will be okay to feel things. It’s okay to cry, to be moved, to remember, to talk about things.
  • It will be okay to feel good, or sad, or mixed up, or lots of things at the same time.
  • It will be okay not to feel things, to be numb, or not in that space, or not public about it.

Resources on the Night

  • Sands Australia will have a representative at the evening who is more than happy to talk to anyone looking for information or support. Sands provides a helpline and other resources around miscarriage, stillbirth, and newborn death. She will also have brochures and information you can take home and look at later.
  • Tissues and friendly people around (my tribe is full of good people) who can give you space or a hug. Some of my friends are champion huggers, so just sing out if you need one.
  • A place to be involved. Rose and I have created a small installation We Love – providing a space for you to participate and recognise your own losses. You can write names or something meaningful to you on papers provided and have a time to reflect.

Art can be powerful. It can bring the private into a public space. It can help us to speak about things its difficult to find words for. It can help people not to forget that behind silence and cultural taboo are real people who need and deserve safety and connection. It can express and share our unbearable experiences in ways that help make them bearable to look at. This kind of art can be a speaking back to silence, a way of documenting things that were erased from our lives and never allowed into our histories and family stories. These things happened. We felt many things about them. They changed us. They are important. We deserve space to share our stories, mourn our losses, and rebuild our lives – without secrecy, without shame. In community; with connection, privacy, and love.

Waiting for You Exhibition is Open

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It’s up and beautiful and ready for viewing! The theme of pregnancy, loss, & motherhood is so special to me. The works are joyful, heartbreaking, raw, and tender. For those who missed my heartfelt radio interview about my experiences of miscarriage and this exhibition, it is now available as a podcast through Radio Adelaide here.

The Exhibition

Open between April 19th – May 19th, Monday to Fridays, 4-6pm.

It’s at the Box Factory, 56 Regent Street South, Adelaide. (map) This is a wheelchair accessible venue. All works are available for purchase.

If you are on Facebook the event details are here.

The Opening Night

Was a wonderful success. 🙂

There were prints and cake because this was my birthday celebration this year. I launched my beautiful artbook Mourning the Unborn. As I was dealing with a charged topic, I took care to create a safer space – read about the values and resources.

Last minute questions about food and kids etc.

My Online Store

Especially for those further afield, I have just opened my Etsy Art Store and begun stocking it with prints from this exhibition, and my artbook Mourning the Unborn. It won’t be quite as lovely as seeing these beautiful gold embellished prints framed and displayed, but you will still be able to see the artworks and buy a regular print yourself.

I’ve turned 33 this year, and I’m glad to use this moment to put my work out into the world, and honored to include everyone it speaks to in some way. ❤

Listen to me talk about miscarriage and art on Radio

I was interviewed recently about my experience of miscarriage, my upcoming exhibition Waiting for You, and the launch of my artbook Mourning the Unborn. It’s a very personal interview and lasts about half an hour, with the lovely Jennie hosting on Arts Breakfast. If you’re local you can tune into Radio Adelaide at 101.5 FM, Saturday the 16th April at 10am.

It’s now available as a podcast online here.

I gave the interview yesterday, which was an incredibly hard day for me. I had a fall the night before going out to a date night with lovely Rose. Walking in the dark I turned my ankle in a pot hole and went down a bit hard. Yesterday baby didn’t do the usual morning kicking, and by 3pm they still hadn’t woken up despite me walking, resting, drinking cold water, and eating something sweet. I got a bit worried.

So, following this interview Rose picked up Star and I and we spent a long evening in the hospital waiting to make sure everything was okay. We’ve just got the last test result back this evening, and everything is looking fine. But needless to say I was feeling a bit raw and don’t actually remember much of the interview itself.

I feel it was very good, true to my experiences and work. It’s also exposing and personal and I feel a bit daunted by being so public. I hope it’s valuable and I’m looking forward to meeting people on the opening night and getting some feedback about this whole idea in person.

Rainbows in the morning

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It’s beautiful here. I slept without meds and woke early after a sad dream. Last night I changed the bed to winter bedding, warm flannel sheets, my electric blanket, and Rose got the winter quilt with my favourite rainbow cover out of storage. It was a gift from her, I love it, so bright and warm. The morning sun streams in this window and I can hear cars and birds singing. My lovely girls are up and getting ready for their day, our baby is dancing inside me.

Rose and I have a wonderful date night planned as our teen – she’s chosen the nickname Star for this blog, will be away tonight and these days date nights are precious! I used to show my love for Rose by packing a picnic dinner and taking her to the beach to watch the moonrise… Now more often it’s by sorting the bills out and doing three loads of laundry. It’s not quite the same… I miss dining and dating my lovely lady. Cuddled up to her this morning while my tears dried, I felt my heart swell with love. We had a counselling session yesterday that went so well, I felt like a huge weight of black fear lifted off my heart and the light is shining through again. I adore my family, we are making something very special between us.

I’ve lost a couple of weeks of preparation time for my exhibition which is hard, but I’m finally starting to feel just better enough to be able to tackle some of the tasks again… Last night I framed all the gilded prints that are ready to go, and they look beautiful. Today I’ll be working on price lists and paperwork that needs to happen – no matter how beautiful and creative the project there is a lot of non creative background work that has to happen to make it all shine!

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Yesterday Rose and Star gave me this lovely little rainbow dragon to say thank you for the work I’ve been doing and admin I’ve taken on for our family. Aw man, there’s nothing quite as soothing to the soul as appreciation. 🙂 Life has been such hard work lately, but it is pretty amazing to see what we’re creating. The sheer misery of illness is starting to fall behind me, and while we’re waiting for things to break – for Rose to get work, or welfare to finally get sorted out, and so many other important things that are squeezing us all badly – there are still thankfully, days like this. Mornings with rainbows. ❤

23 weeks pregnant and sick as a dog

Rose is sick, I am sick, bubs is doing great. We’re both on antibiotics for bacterial infections (tonsillitis for her, sinusitis for me) and I have been so sick and sleep deprived this week I’m desperately looking forward to feeling better. With my drug allergies plus being pregnant there’s almost nothing I can take to help reduce the pain or get me to sleep and I’m now very worn out. Food aversions are even more severe than usual and I’m struggling to eat and keep down fluids, which is scary and stressful and makes me feel like I have an eating disorder and worry about developing gestational diabetes. Every time I read about the importance of a balanced, pregnancy safe diet and regular exercise I kind of want to scream because at the moment I can hardly walk 50 yards. The sheer misery of chronic pain is hard to overestimate, I cry a lot, I’m very irritable, and I feel completely exhausted. I’ve also stopped sleeping, which may be sickness or may be pregnancy insomnia…

Just when I think I’ve learned all the horrible things pregnancy can bring with it, I stumble across something else. Frankly right now I’m wildly over all of this and feel like I’ve been sold a load of rubbish about what pregnancy would be like. I kind of can’t beleive I actually wanted to experience this, was really excited about it and chose to do it. The lovely moments of joy at feeling baby move simply don’t stack up alongside months and months of being madly unwell. I’m perfectly capable of being really excited about feeling my baby move in Rose’s tummy, thankyou very much. I hate complaining because she’d love to carry, and because people sometimes think that means I don’t want to be having a baby or that I’m not grateful we are expecting. But hell this has not been fun!! Fibro and pregnancy and sinusitis especially are kicking my ass and it’s not fun or exciting or joyful or glowy, it’s just stressful and exhausting and bloody miserable and yes I chose this. Argh!

Fortunately froggie is pretty unaware, kicking away every day, especially in response to Rose singing to them. Thankfully! Our GP got out the doppler today and that wonderful heartbeat, so strong and rhythmic, it’s such a relief to hear. I finally have an appointment to meet my midwife for the first time next week, which is a big relief because the bloody hospital has been confusing us no end with all manner of contradictory information.

I am, as you can hear, pretty overwhelmed. Rose has been superb. Pain overwhelmed me last night and she rubbed my back and talked me through a visualisation where I hadn’t spent the day crying on the lounge, sleepless and exhausted, but instead we went out together on a picnic through the beautiful autumn trees. And the pain stayed there in my body and face but for a little while I went somewhere else, with Rose, somewhere peaceful and beautiful where everything was okay. And I saw the wall I have to jump over to reach that place – grief and hurt for every night I’ve ever spent alone with such pain. But last night she took my hand and I lept the wall and away we ran; into the red and golden leaves, into a place of quiet and promise. Into a world where my body is whole, and we sit beneath the trees by the water together, red velvet against grey stone. Her hand in mine, her beautiful hair snagged with a tiara of leaves. She is my home. She is my peace.

My Artbooks have arrived!

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Here they are, all ready for my launch. They are lovely! Full colour, high gloss, very beautiful. I’m into the final preparations for the exhibition side of things. The last custom frames will be finished this week, and all the prints are in.

I’m sick with a sinus infection, bad fibro pain and very irritated skin. Rose is down too, she started with a sinus infection and tonsillitis, but today it’s developed into a chest infection and the tonsillitis has gone bacterial and nasty. So we’re both pretty miserable!

I’ve only got a couple more weeks before everything needs to be finished and ready to hang. The last key orders for custom sized matting for the embellished works need to be put in this week, so I’ll be home for the next while, covered in gold fragments and sizing while I get them all finished. I’m gilding the tenth work tonight before bed. It’s a relief to see it coming together.

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Poem – Terror

I am terrified.
I try very hard not to be.

Everything I build is a bright island
In a black sea
One day
There will be a storm
The water will rise
Or the land will sink
the sun will go out of my world again
not dead, or lost, or drowned
still shining somewhere else
but whatever blessing I was living on
will be withdrawn.

There will be no sense to it.
There will be nothing I did, or did not do.
It will follow no pattern.
All that is bright in the world
will be a memory
everyone I love will die
everything I care about will drown
beneath that black water
life will be unbearable pain.

Over and over again.

1 in 135 births is still born.

Even if the light shines on me
someone else goes home drowning
the simple arithmetic of loss
someone will get their heart broken.
I’m 23 weeks pregnant
and drowning in survivors guilt.
Terrified of the future
And I still can’t talk to the baby.
Oh Job, did it work for you?
Can you really give back children after taking them?
Or did you howl in the bitter hours of the better days too?
Like all of us who love from brokenness.

The sun is shining
and the sun is shining
and I’m not afraid
and there’s no darkness coming

The sun is shining
and it shines for me
because I’ve done the right things
and I’ve figured life out

Nothing bad is going to happen
Night will never fall again
Everything is under control now
Life gives us what we deserve.

How do we live without our lies and illusions?
How do we face the sun when we know it’s dying?
I crawl from my broken place, over to you love
touch your face, and it’s wet with tears too,
kiss your wet face with tears in my mouth
the sun on our faces shining
The sun shining on your glorious face
The glorious sun shining on your tears.

Criticism Fatigue part 2: Criticism is essential

Here’s a fun paradox: as I’ve explored in this first post about criticism fatigue, as a mental health service provider and peer worker, criticism is risky to me, my job, and my organisation. It makes me feel stressed, threatened, and unsafe, and at times it is all of those things especially when it crosses the line into abuse. However, I feel quite the reverse about being able to make complaints. It’s very important to me that my right to criticise is respected and supported. I want to be able to make a complaint easily, without penalty, and to feel listened to, taken seriously, and even see change happen as a result. Being able to criticise limits the power of people and services to abuse and harm me – as a consumer, a carer, or a peer worker. Being able to criticise helps me be safer. But receiving criticism threatens that safety and wears me out. How do we manage that reality?

If I believe that consumers deserve to have a voice, which I do, then I believe that criticism must be part of the process of service provision. If I believe that staff deserve to be safe from abuses by consumers or other staff, which I do, then I believe that criticism must be part of service delivery. If criticism is so essential, maybe we need a better approach to it in services – something that makes it less threatening and less risky.

Let’s look at the bigger picture for a moment. Criticism can be conceptualised as a form of ‘feedback’. Feedback is the process of sending a message back after an action, to modify the next action. It’s a form of communication, and it is incredibly important to the functioning of all organisms, eco systems, and structures made up of smaller components. This is moving into the territory of systems theory, a fascinating field of study that explores the relationships between individuals/units/components within a larger system. The nature of feedback is that it creates regulation – it gives information about the effect of an action so that future actions can be modified to achieve the desired result. Without feedback, there is no regulation, and without regulation, function and survival are threatened.

In relationships between people, feedback is essential to connect and to pursue goals. Feedback in the many complex forms of signalling contentment, distress, praise, criticism, and so on all set the boundaries and define the power balance in the relationship. 2 way feedback means that these signals can be sent and received by both parties in both directions – person A can tell person B when they are comfortable or irritated or hurt, and person B can do likewise with person A.

In systems where this feedback is inhibited there are higher risks of problems. If a consumer can’t complain to or about a staff member, they are less likely to be consistently engaged with in ways that meet their needs and don’t hurt or frustrate them. If a staff member must not have complaints made about them/their services then they are under pressure to meet consumer needs without being able to clarify when their efforts are not effective, and without being able to take risks that may not work out – bearing unfair responsibility that presumes mind-reading and infallibility. If a staff member can’t complain about a consumer but the consumer can complain about the staff member – or vice versa, there is a significant power imbalance at play that can allow harm to happen to the more vulnerable party.

Criticism is also essential in a less personal sense – we need to criticise services, resources, ideas, ideologies, approaches, politics. In a similar way that feedback regulates relationships, it regulates ideas. It is not possible to create anything that is perfect, static, unchanging. The most elegant and beautiful idea can be misconstrued, misapplied, inappropriate in context, overcomplicated, oversimplified, accidentally destructive, and deliberately twisted to cause harm. It is not only appropriate but essential that we debate, discuss, and explore our ideas. In the case of services we need to hear from all people. It’s not good enough to say – well ‘most’ people find this approach helpful so we don’t have to listen to those who find it harmful. It’s not good enough to assume that good intentions will prevent harm. It’s not good enough to create highly risk averse structures to prevent criticism and then take the lack of criticism as a sign that all is well.

Criticism is part of learning. It is a signal that we have made a mistake, and propels us to greater understanding. As Bradbury colourfully put it in Fahrenheit 451

You’re afraid of making mistakes. Don’t be. Mistakes can be profited by. Man, when I was young I shoved my ignorance in people’s faces. They beat me with sticks. By the time I was forty my blunt instrument had been honed to a fine cutting point for me. If you hide your ignorance, no one will hit you and you’ll never learn.

Criticism is also inevitable. Do anything at all in life and you will have critics. Some you need for their useful ideas and input, and some are just the price you pay for being active. Criticism can help to expose you to ideas, experiences, and perspectives you could simply never personally gather in your own lifetime. My experience of setting up resources in mental health and doing consultation to garner what is most needed, where the gaps are, and the best use of resources has been that getting that information in advance is often very difficult from more than a small portion of the community. However, once a resource is running, criticism will abound if it fails in some way – and the resource can then be modified in the light of that. It’s often difficult for people to articulate what they need until they’ve started to see some options (show me a menu! I don’t know what to order) or started to have some experiences (this bit was great, that bit made me really uncomfortable). It would be a whole lot more comfortable for me if I could gather that information in advance and set up ‘perfect’ resources, but that’s more about my fear of criticism than it is about the back and forth of real community engagement. Accepting and being willing to engage with criticism has worn me out and led me to struggle with criticism fatigue, but it has also honed my ideas, challenged my ignorance, and made my resources better.

Criticism is also inevitable because of the massive diversity in people’s needs, values, and beliefs. It is simply impossible to perform any public action that meets with 100% approval. Some people are adept at criticising from their armchairs without ever risking getting involved. Some feel threatened by anything that brings an unpleasant reality to their attention, or that reduces their own power or comfort in any way. A local organisation had to fight an extensive court battle to open a respite facility for people with mental health problems when many members of the local community tried to block it on grounds such as their perceived risk of violence from the members, and possible lowering of house prices in the area. Most community services aimed at vulnerable, stigmatised populations face similar challenges with harsh criticism. Anyone who works in retail or any customer service role with the public has stories of people’s bizarre, confronting, irrational, and impossible expectations, opinions, and behaviour. The comments section on internet videos and articles is often testament to exactly how ugly ‘the public’ can be. People are highly diverse, not always rational, and not always community minded. Criticism can reflect human diversity, and it can be a weapon of human perversity and cruelty.

So, if criticism is risky, but also essential and inevitable – how the hell can I engage with it? The approaches we are inclined to when experiencing criticism fatigue are so harmful and create many more problems than they solve. Increasing control, reducing transparency, filtering access, giving up, hating ourselves, refusing to listen, and attacking back all deflect, avoid, and weaponise criticism. What are we left with? What does it look like when we engage with criticism as a healthy and essential part of communication? How can we recognise our own limits and vulnerabilities around criticism fatigue? How can we support ourselves to engage criticism in constructive ways? I am no expert for sure, but I have been lucky enough to have some good mentors and read some interesting books in this area which has helped a bit as I’ve fumbled my way through peer work. Something to explore in my next post.