Tish's Commitment to Art & Healing

Day 19:

2010-07-03T16:16:00.000-07:00

I did this last night while my son and I were watching recorded Wimbledon Tennis. As I wondered what to do, he said, "Me, draw me!" So I tried. It was hard because he was sitting lower with his laptop not wanting to look up. And, even though I don't think it looks like him, it does resemble him. See the real McCoy below. (His hair is different there.) I started drawing it in the blind contour fashioln and he said "No, look at the paper when you draw, or something of that sort. So part of it is blind contour and part is done by looking at him and my paper as I drew.

This is interesting. I have been posting a couple days after I do the art. Because I worried if I could keep up. But it all seems fine in the artmaking department. I got behind on the posting as of late. I think I am going to take a risk and stay current.... What a dangerous likfe I live!

Day 18: A collaboration saves the day!

2010-07-02T23:59:00.000-07:00

There was NO way I would have had the energy to do my art tonight from scratch, or so I think. I had my show tonight with my client work from the YWCA's homeless program and it was fabulous. I was honored, humbled and in awe of the art and the evening. And, when I returned home, exhausted yet hyped. Shea's friend Dimitre had started this back on my day 3 I think. He is off in Switzerland now so I thought I would finish it. Probably could use some more work, but oh well. Another day with SOMETHING is what matters most right this moment. Thank you.

Day 17: A teeny tiny yet big contribution - The Tall Flower

2010-07-01T15:34:00.000-07:00

Today's art is only about 6 inches wide, by 3 feet. I did not have it in me to do anything, and I did something. So to me, that is big. I am grateful that some how I remember to show up and do it every day. Or at least for the last 17. Good to know that I can do something (fairly) quick. I am thinking about going to buy those giant oil pastel sticks. Thinking they will cover bigger areas. Not sure how they are for blending. But it is worth trying. Will keep you posted.

Day 16: Premonition? Psychic?

2010-06-30T23:49:00.000-07:00

When I originally started this, it was from a magazine photo of a FUNKY, very old lady with big round glasses. After finishing it and before writing this, My friend Michele went and ordered some round glasses. She has blue eyes and short grey hair. Maybe I am psychic! Once she gets her glasses I will post a photo of her next to this and we can compare....

Day 15: Only Day Fifteen?

2010-06-29T14:43:00.000-07:00

I have to admit that it SEEMS like day 315! I am not sure if that is good or bad. Began this after midnight so I was VERY brief aesthetically. I loved those first days when I did the work in the daylight. And, I am not sure how to get that back when I am so busy. Next week I will be a little less busy, so yes, I will be able to do daylight art. I want to say "maybe" and I am trying really hard not to. And I REALLY want to say maybe. Commiting is not easy. Especially when I start thinking about next week, is it really going to be less busy? Hello Tish! Just make art!

Day 14: Art is a Mystery

2010-06-28T23:46:00.000-07:00

Oh where the heck did he come from? Not really where i wanted him to go or look like. AND, the surprises are always welcome. It was way too late again tonight. I am needing some sort of changes to keep the inspiration going. Not sure. Maybe too big. Maybe my oil pastels are too small. Maybe still wrestle with subject matter. Trusting the process though.

Day 13: Is it a dog's world or a cat's?

2010-06-27T23:30:00.000-07:00

This began as Friday Dog. (Yes, and now I have Friday Cat, there is a good story behind that.) Doesn't really look like her but I was grateful for her inspriation of tonight's art. Looks more like a hungry wolf. People who were afraid of dogs used to think she was a wolf or some furocious animal. She was a white german shepard and a total lover. She would start barking on command, "Sick em!" or "Where's the kitty?" Friday Dog loved our beloved ZInger kitty. They would sleep together and play. So when Friday Cat came, with that name already, I was so sure she would be a perfect addition to our family and for Zinger after Friday Dog died. It actually wasn't until ZInger was gone that Friday cat started settling in. But she still hates Jack the dog. How did this dog post end up being about the cat?

As for the drawing. I loved the ease and sketchiness of it. Yes, she isn't white. Let's say she is in the glow of sunset.

Day 12 - Pearched for the tease

2010-06-26T13:18:00.000-07:00

Friday Cat was perched on the piano as I began my art. Jack the Dog was below, looking up, wanting to play. She ignores him. She teases him, just out of reach. I put her on a tree branch because she seemed like a bird, ready to fly away if dog moved upward. I wish they could be friends. I know she would enjoy Jack if she just gave him a chance. And I do understand that Jack needs to learn not to smell her butt. "Cats are not dogs," I tell him. But he doesn't seem to care. And hissing gives her prupose in life. So all is well I am sure.

Day 11- The clock ticks on...

2010-06-25T12:19:00.000-07:00

Day 11 shows my clock, the hands of the clock are misleading...they look like a few minutes after 6 but the real time is half-past-midnight. That is the time I got started – no wonder I am having troubles with this project and am complaining!

Day 10: This little piggy went to....

2010-06-24T23:58:00.000-07:00

Love this pig with the withered legs. Probably becasue he knows he will be part of breakfast soon...

Into the double digets, day ten. One day at a time. This day needs to come to an end. Too tired.

Day 9:What's the buzz? (Tell me whats a happening)

2010-06-23T20:20:00.000-07:00

Found object a half block from my house on my walk this morning. A little empty bottle of E&J Brandy. I enjoyed incorporating it into my art today and changing the label. I found At least 3 of these bottles last year in the same place during my found object project. Makes me wonder who is leaving them. Do they have a drinking problem? Why do they make it onto the sidewalk median in the same place? Are there more of them around, maybe on the other side of the street? My son keeps trying to sell me on the idea that there is nothing wrong with doing drugs and drinking if it makes you feel better. I say why not learn to feel better without the help of mind altering substances? I am glad we are having the conversations.

Day 8: The half and Half Woman

2010-06-22T23:42:00.000-07:00

The raised eyebrow takes this sad face into a slightly inquisitive direction. I fell back to my comfortable blind contour drawing style for this one. I was tired and didn't want to wrestle with the question of subject matter. It felt a bit like cheating. Maybe that is the look on her face. I am tired and I wonder if anyone will notice the cheat. Try looking at each half of her face separately. Two totally different looks. Reminds me of a baby and one minute they can be crying and the next laughing. She is caught in the millisecond of change between inquisitive and melancholy; mischievous and weary; hopeful and hopeless. I like that.

Day 7: The Perilous Pear

2010-06-21T23:44:00.000-07:00

When my son came home and saw this pear, he said, "I liked the stuff you were doing before better, like the gnome." The tone of voice was important here. Like an art critic who was not a fan.

The perils of visual art are that everyone (readily) has an opinion. Some more vocal than others. I guess that is true with all the arts, but with music or dance, when it is over it fades away. And then a 3 foot by two foot drawing really stays. I would like to say that I didn't care. After all, I did enjoy doing the pear. I loved the stem the most, or actually the place where the stem meets the pear fruit. But I am no saint, my feelings were hurt. I had kept it hanging so he could see it when he came home. Excited to show off day seven. One week. Only 51 weeks to go.

My response was, "I have 358 more days, I can try all kinds of things in that time." Or something like that. I knew it didn't matter what he thought, and, when I do commissions and get stuck he almost always calls it as it is and is very helpful. I have trusted his eye. He said that he has been around his school art teacher too long. That when his art teacher doesn't like something he comes right out and says so. No sugar coating. I come from a different philosphy. A "don't hurt peoples feelings because artmaking can be a vulnerable place" philospphy. The "find feedback that keeps them motivated, asks questions and learns more" philosophy.

The truth is, Shea was probably sensing the struggle I have been having with this project and the whole "what do I draw?" pain and the newly emerging "this is a BIG piece of paper to fill with oil pastels and smudge with my tired fingers." And on the other side of the coin, 10 minutes later I didn't care (so much). I liked my pear. It is not going to win any awards, but it turned out okay, I enjoyed doing it and I got day seven under my belt. Speaking of belts, that is one reason I love pears as a subject matter, they are very sensual in shape, my full figure drawings almost always have a pear shaped body. Small waist, big hips.

I think I better close up shop. I am off on a whole other ramble....

Day 6: An Invitation

2010-06-20T23:14:00.000-07:00

I invited my friend Michele to give me some ideas of what to draw tonight. I told her I was cutting my paper smaller so it would be tall and skinny—because it was late and I was tired and hoped it would take me less time with less square footage. Her suggestion was a door, it would fit on a tall skinny page. A door. I could do that. Then I remembered a piece a woman artist I know did.. A red door in a tree that she titled “The Invitation”. Thank you Michele and Ellen for inspiring me tonight.

Which led to an idea. How about if you all, everyone, anyone, someone, offers me a suggestion each day as to what to be my subject matter? Maybe it is just a matter of looking around you and naming the first thing that catches your eye. Or maybe it is something that is in your heart in the moment. Granted, I might take the offering and I might not, or I might get more than one (I am thinking optimisticly) and I will have to choose, or not. It sounds like a plan to get me over this hump I have been feeling the last 3 days of “what the *#@! do I draw!”

And if you give me a suggestion and I use it, I will gladly give you credit if you will let me. It takes a village to do art, too, not just to raise kids. Are you game?

Day 5: Setting a Place, Placing a Setting

2010-06-19T16:27:00.000-07:00

I can see that a big part of this project is going to be finding things to draw that I feel excited about. Tonight I was in a quandary again about my subject matter, WHAT to draw. That darn blank canvas! This will wear on me quickly. I finally decided to do a piece of silverware, from my childhood. Then I realized I would need more than one item. A setting ended up filling the page and then a few peas moved in. I used some old oil pastels so they were a little dry and now my finger hurts from blending. Not an overly exciting process or result today. And I was exhausted when done. (Might have something to do with being up so late last night…) And, it got done, so I can claim day 5.

What to do about subject matter? For years I did my blind contour face drawings becuas I just drew how I felt or what I was working on in the moment, maybe I could do that again, and, I want to try new and different. I want to push myself, go outside my comfort zone. I could go back to my found objects (my last 365 Days of Art project that I finished in May) and draw a found object each day? One thing is clear, I can’t spend so much time on the “what to draw” or I won’t be getting past day nine. Maybe I could have someone else decide what I draw? It needs to be fun or it won't be happening.

Day 4. Gnomb nome gnome

2010-06-18T00:30:00.000-07:00

It is almost one in the morning. Worked today so no time to work in daylight. Finally got to it at 11:00 p.m. All good if it is a quickie. No luck. First, couldn’t find a photo of what I wanted to draw. Then, when I saw the piece my son did today, a gnome, I thought, “Okay, I can do that, too.” Two hours later... I had fun. I am tired. Watched television while I worked, not quiet like during the day when it becomes a meditation. Need to figure that out….

I am not sure when it started, gnomes (which I had to spell a few times before I remembered) became a scary joke in our household. Then Malcolm in the Middle had an episode with a mean and scary gnome which fed the story we had going. I kept threatening to put one in our garden and Shea would exasperatedly respond, "No!" Well, his half birthday was this month and a gnome found its way into our house. This little guy has been the subject of a few of Shea's art projects. Today he had done a huge oil pastel of him that I loved. And when I couldn't find the duck-prior-to-oil-spill photo that I wanted, the gnome was it. Art is one of the ways we connect these days. I am grateful. The slightly curled lip was supposed to give him a mischievous look, but I think he looks more wistful than a troublemaker...

Two hours. Can I keep it up at that rate? I did enjoy the whole process. It is the getting to bed after 2:00 a.m. that is hard because I always wake up at 6:30 or 7:00 a.m.

Who needs sleep. Hooray for another day!

Day 3: The eyes have it

2010-06-17T22:47:00.000-07:00

Day three, do I dare say that momentum is building, this early? Tonight my son and his buddy wanted to play, too. They chose photos of faces and sharing a piece of paper worked side by side. One of those proud human moments, and then being my son, it was a proud parenting moment. Art has definately been a place where we meet. Where we spend quality time. Seeing Shea and Dimitre playing with color on paper was just about as fabulous as it gets. That is the whole idea with my art. Get inspired and inspire someone else. Then they pass it down the line. Love it. Didn't love my piece as much today. Guess it was more of a struggle. I learned not to outline in a dark color. In my past work I have used thick permanant marker to draw, wanting to go with whatever I first put down. But in this medium (oil pastels) The dark lines don't seem right, or at least not today. No matter, I still loved the process. AND I love that I am doing it during the day. For my last three-365 Days of Art projects, most of the work was done at night. Especially on work days. I have not been able to allow myself to play during work hours. But the thing is, I work from sunrise to sunset and beyond. So why not? Well it is happening naturally. Somehow something changed and I want to, have to, do it during the day! Yipee skipee. (Ahhh, an Arlene moment.)

Day 2: The Neighs Have It

2010-06-16T21:01:00.000-07:00

Oh my, I LOVE how thick I am putting the color on and how messy it gets! YES TO MESS! Can't wait to get an actual studio so making a mess will be invited. Versus my studio in my living room that still needs to be some semblance of a living room. (Though it is still a great set up.)

I love going big 3 feet tall by two feet wide. So satisfying. My paintings have been almost this big but it feels a little unexpected with the oil pastels. My fingernails look like a car mechanic's. Whenever my clients look down at their hands in dismay because they are covered with paint, I say something like, "So now you can feel like an artist." It is true for me. I used to cringe when I got paint on a brand new pair of pants. Now I think of it as a christening. I am grateful to be doing art and having paint and oil pastels under my nails, on my floor and on my clothes. Life is good.

Thought of my friend Connie as I worked on this horse. She is a horse lover extraordinaire. She lives for horses. I miss her and doing this horse helped me feel like I spent time with her, even if it was just in my head. (Hope you read this Connie so you can know we spent time together, even if just in my head!) I also figured she could give me some clues on being more anatomically correct. I didn't care that it was off though. Naming this series as "studies" gives me permission to not be perfect. If it works!

Day 1: My newest 365 Days of Art Project

2010-06-15T17:04:00.000-07:00

Day one - The Rooster Who Wishes He could Lay (Eggs)

I think I have got it. After a month of being finished with my "365 Days of Found Objects and the Writing They Inspire" project which ended in May, I have been longing for something new. I tried two new projects for a few days to a week each, but they just weren't getting me excited. (graffiti words was the first and the second was a word that I wrote about.) This one came in the back door which may always be best, it found me. I had a fabulous time drawing this rooster. Portfolio water soluble oil pastels on 3 foot by 2 foot butcher paper. A 3 inch rooster had mysteriously found its way into my hand as I rummaged through some sand play items. (Honest, I don't remember picking it up) It took me by such surprise that there was an audible sound of surprise that came from my mouth. I knew I had to draw it and I had an urge to go BIG! I thought of it as a study, but instead of it being a teeny tiny study, it was a big giant study of color. My fingers were ecstatic as they pushed and blended thick heavy globs of the oil pastels. I loved feeling the texture of the back drop that was under my thin paper. I loved that the paper was inexpensive and cut crooked. I loved that it was big and bright. I loved that I didn't care how good it was. I loved that it happened quickly. (40 minutes went by in a flash.) I loved that the rooster was sitting on his duff, like he wished he could lay eggs like his female counterpart.

I could get used to doing this. Could I do it every day? Could I carve out enough time to do 365 days of these giant daily studies? This first one took 40 minutes. Can I give myself that much time every day? Maybe it would even take longer! My past Daily art projects had a built in way of spending mere minutes if needed. Can I do that on a project of this size?

I am willing to try. It is time that makes it feel more like a spiritual practice. A visit to my inner self. The cultivating of an inner life. On this, "Day One: The Rooster" the year prior came to me. The difficult moments of working through old excruciatingly painful anxiety. Working through shame and embarrassment. Working through blocks that have brought me to a more vibrant and alive life. I felt gratitude as I laid down the thick colors. I felt hope and peace and forgiveness. 365 days of that? Oh, sure, every day won’t be this prolific. Or maybe it will. Whou knows. I am grateful to be playing with art materials and having something to do daily to feed my soul!

And, it got me writing this blog, which I had wanted to do on my last 365 Day Art Project but didn’t think I had it in me! Yippee!

Stay tuned!
Tish

My New LOVE!!!!!

2008-08-02T14:27:00.006-07:00

I think I found my next life partner!!!!!!! He is soooo totally perfect for me! Dark and handsome! It was love at FIRST sight! He is very devoted, already! His name is Jack and we met just a block from my house! We have so much in common, especially the desire for partnership and a deep desire to find home. He is staying with my neighbor, and we are integrating slowly, trying not to rush a good thing! He is very unusual (I love unusual looks!) some people might even think he is a dog, but I think he is cute as can be! His full name is "One-Eyed Jack" as he is blind in one eye. He is from Mexico and may help me with my Spanish!

It was an amazing chain of events that brought us together, yet just an ordindary day. The moment I saw him though, I knew, I was finally ready for love. (After almost 6 years!)

My fire is back, with Jack!

Arriving Home

2008-07-17T18:04:00.006-07:00

After over a month of voluntary exhile, I am home. I am grateful that I have the choice to come back home. Grateful for my "Cadillac" of a bed, cozy and kind to my body. Grateful for the perfect cup of coffee that I can make in the morning just the way I like it, the kitties that meow me into my day, my friends who have greeted me with love, gifts of flowers, kind notes and interest in my journey. My blessings are huge.

Countering the settling into the comfort of what I call home is the discomfort of the life I have returned to. It may just be jet lag hanging on. (Still getting tired and turning in early, early for me.) My brain seems to have jumped plane somewhere over the Atlantic, parachuting to an undiscovered island, and insisting on staying in exhile. Today, Friday, is the first day that I have felt that I have enough thought cells to even begin a blog entry, and I arrived home on Monday.

Having made this trek 5 times now, I do have familiarity with the re-entry. Yet when I am in it, I seem to forget. So I am grateful to be taking this moment to reflect so that I can remember what I have experienced in the past. The feeling of coming home and my life not fitting the same as it did. The feeling that I have grown and am unsure how to fit my larger life in my one size smaller template. Making room for myself, stretching, pushing up against the previously built walls is not easy. The walls are made of plaster and have been here for many years. Each year remodeling adds space, and once again I need to get out the jack hammer and begin the demolition stage so that the new construction can begin. I would say that there is an additional factor this year. For the last five months I threw myself so fully into expressive arts, from my three month opportunity to serve at the Monarch School to my doctoral studies and my private practice work and then my full immersion into my Swiss summer studies. And now I have returned and my calendar is empty! Granted, I purposely kept things off my schedule for the re-entry. Yet I can see how having something to come back to would have been helpful.

I am trusting that by next week I will have re-united with my thinking brain. (Just writing this blog has me hopeful!) And ready to begin the demo and construction. In the mean time, I need to offer myself the two day of vacation that I have left, to enjoy them rather than stress about what isn't. Thank you all for taking the time to follow my musings, and for your feedback. The jury is still out for me on the need for humans to be heard and responded to, yet I am clear, that for myself, right now, being heard and responded to by the ones I love most is very important, and very appreciated. I hope I can offer you the same gift.

Check back, there may be more stories coming, like the "severe thunder and lightning storm" my brother and I got caught in and the high school reunion musings. I would like to continue the writing practice that this was intended to kick start....

Many thanks!
Tish

Ohio and Jello

2008-07-11T06:52:00.007-07:00

Hiking with brother, Gregg, just before getting caught in a SEVERE thunder storm...

very exciting!

I arrived in Ohio on Monday evening and except for two mornings waking up with NEW ideas for my dissertation (not necessarilly good ideas, not necessarilly ideas that even made sense once I wrote them down, but I did write them down...)my brain has gratefully turned to jello. Red, fruity, wiggly,fun. The thinking mode has been demoted from "intelligent and exciting" to "reach into the memory banks for laughable moments and is it time for bed yet?" mode.

Maybe that is part of "going home." When I was traveling here I felt some sadness that going to Ohio is different now. Home belongs to a new young family, my childhood bed is someone elses childhood bed or at the bottom of a land fill. My brother lives in a new home in a different city. There is no going back.

For over 20 years after moving away, "going home" meant re-entering a world I left, with minimal change. There was a security, a settling, a being taken care of, that would happen when I would walk through the door. For my stay, my parents were in charge again, I would have no responsibilities except to help around the house if I wanted to. I felt like a child, in a good way, safe and being taken care of. Many of my visits through those years were not so easy. Before I had done the work on my childhood dissapointments and disfunction, it wasn't so great. But once I had done that work, Home became a harbor to dock my boat when the oceans were a little too rough. When my navigation system was out and I needed to map a new course for my life. I have continued to call it "home" even though I moved away in 1981. Even after the death of my parents and the sale of their house. Last week when someone asked me if I was traveling after school, I said, "I am going back Home to visit my brother in Ohio, before I go home." Even though I didn't know what this Home would look like.

Now that I am here, I totally get it. Connecting to my brother, telling the old stories, the new stories. Spending the day with my dad's sister, my Aunt Marlene; my dad's cousin, Dolly; my cousin Lynne who I have known my whole life. Filling in our lives, referring back to old memories, wondering about what was next. Laughing a lot, not just a little, but a LOT. That is going home. I forget when I leave, and when I return, I remember. Family is important to me. To be with people who have known me my whole life. To be with people who knew my father his whole life. Though those numbers are getting smaller, they are still there. And I learned about cousins that I had not seen since I was a child. That are my age, with children Shea's age...People with similar blood, similar lineages. I leave "going home" almost always promising to do better to keep in touch with my family. Once I get home, my life seduces me and the promise gets further from my heart. I have gotten better though. I do call my brother regularly, and since her husband (my Uncle Jerry) died a couple years ago, I email and send cards to Aunt Marlene on occassion. I can do better. I will do better. Ask me how I am doing. Help keep me on track if you think of it. I want to stay connected to this feeling of connection to something greater than myself, the "going home" connection.

More will be revealed. Tonight I visit high school friends. I don't have the same warm feelings about going there...I would like to make friends with that part of my life...stay tuned!

Heading down the hill today...

2008-07-06T00:25:00.002-07:00

Heading down the hill (the Alps) today. Mixed feelings about it all. Ready to go and live this bigger life that I feel like I have grown into and will miss my Saas Fee "family."

Last night was a student performance which was a moving and hillarious way to end our time here. I did an improv piece about being improvisational, I had a GREAT time! Paolo gave me a rave review, which was very fun. Though he is 76, he looks like he is seven when he is excited.

Next stop will be Zurich and then Ohio. Not sure how much internet access I will have after this. So if I don't post a daily blog, I will when I get back. My plane lands in San Diego the evening on the 14th. I will have my cell phone in Ohio, so feel free to call. It often doesn't ring while I am there but goes to voice mail. I will call you back. (You can still email me though, I will be able to check emails at least on my brother's computer.)

Thanks for listening these past three weeks. This process has been very important to me. I have learned a lot about myself, the world I live in and my relationships by doing this. I am hoping that it has kick started my daily writing practice that I have been wanting to start.

Much love,
Tish

It was on July 4th

2008-07-05T04:42:00.006-07:00

This July 4th I feel on shaky ground with my country. I got my fellow classmates attention at dinner with a clink on my water glass. I raised my wine glass for more of a prayer than a toast. Honoring that it was the Independence day of my country, yet I feel less independent than ever. I feel shame and embarrassment for the way that my country is being lead. I offered a prayer that we will not chose war again, that maybe Obama is a glimmer of hope.

There was a time when I would fly my flag on July 4th. That has not happened in many years. Four out of five of my last Independence day celebrations were spent here in Europe. With people from around the world. Seeing our country through their eyes. I don't know where I am going with this, except to say that my heart is heavy as I hear news about a possible attack on Iraq. I want to feel empowered to make change, yet I feel powerless. I want to feel hope for the future, yet I don't want to be let down. And then, if I don't do my best, how will I be able to look at myself in the mirror? Is there power in being willing to do all I can despite the threat of disappointment? Am I willing to give my best, knowing that it could end in hurt? I have spent the last 3 weeks looking at suffering and hopelessness. Is Hope a verb? Does it need action attached to it in order to make it real?

I think for me it does. I am willing to give it a try. To come out of my own political apathy of sorts to see, can little ole me make a difference. And maybe the only difference will be within myself, and that I think will be worth it.

So I commit today to getting on board to make a difference. There was hope in the room when I offered the prayer/toast. Most of the people around the table were from other countries, I was the minority and when I looked around I saw hope in their eyes. Yes we may have had a bit to drink by then, or maybe it was a wish for hope rather than hope itself. I will take it for what it offers me, the momentum to get involved in a bigger way than I have. That is my prayer.

2008-07-04T15:06:00.004-07:00

The peaks were showing today!

Tonight we went out to eat to celebrate the end of our summer school. Had a great time! The wine was poured liberally, free schnopps on the house to help digest the fondue cheese rocks in some people's stomach. We suggested they have a CAGS 3 next year so that we could all come back together! We have become a close bunch.

Today was the first day that I could see the saw like peaks on the mountain, so I snapped the above shot. Every day that right part of the mountains has had a cloud on it. This is an amazing place, feels like I am living in a postcard.

Wind up classes on Saturday and then I head out on Sunday afternoon. Spend the night in Zurich and then a Monday morning flight to Ohio. Looking forward to seeing my brother. And my high school friends for our 50th birthday bash. Will visit my parents too. There tiny plot of land... Looking forward to it AND looking forward to getting home. I miss Shea a lot. It has been good video chatting with him, yet it is not the same as the real boy.

All right, it is after midnight, I am turning into a pumpkin. time to shloft goud.

Graduation Night!

2008-07-03T14:24:00.007-07:00

Graduation was a blast! We had a great time. The speeches were even tolerable! Then wine and appetizers, the best clown show yet, and then a great dinner with some of the best wine I have had. It was a wine that Paolo had talked about on our excursion. Roman grapes that had died out and then they found some surviving here in Switzerland. It was the first good Swiss wine I have had in the 5 years I have been coming here! Good conversation and lots of toasting and laughing. I will miss everyone when we go our separate ways. I hope we can keep in touch!

The photos are backward...#3, Swissy kisses with Paolo; #2 With my Diploma, wine and bread; #1 After the ceremony with my wine and bread. (Special EGS wine and bread made in this region only...)

Though our class graduated, we still have a few more days of classes. Starting at 9:30 tomorrow morning so I am going to take this celebratory head and lay it to rest! GIANT THANKS to everyone who supported me along this path, I am VERY grateful!

Love

Tish

Good Night from Saas Fee

2008-07-02T15:04:00.003-07:00

I am done! Gave my presentation on my dissertation idea today. Got some great feedback from my teachers and colleagues. And totally loved the creative process of putting it together. Now I get to sit back and relax and just give feedback (The quality of the feedback in my group is exceptional!). Graduation is tomorrow (Thursday) though our class continues until Sunday (we need more credits than the Masters group). So, while you are all snoozing away, I may be snoozing through some speeches, yet wildly happy on the inside! This has been a great next step for me. I am grateful that I have had the resources to do it. After graduation is a dinner. It will be fun to get dressed up after wearing the same clothes every day. Thinking about leaving I start getting sad. My class feels like my family. And my teachers too. I can remember the first time I talked to Paolo Knill and was so nervous (5 years ago.) I felt like I could not speak anything intelligible. Today, I love talking to him, disagreeing, agreeing, challenging him, supporting him. Ahhh, life is good.

Must get to bed so my eyes aren't as red as the outfit I will wear tomorrow at graduation! Will post photos if I can.

7- 2-08 As you sleep

2008-07-02T05:45:00.000-07:00

As you sleep, I am alive with ideas and in the creative process of connecting the dots between one idea and another. I love thinking about you sleeping while I am on the other side of the world engaged so vibrantly in life! Your rest feeds me, maybe my excitement feeds you too. Maybe your dreams tonight are vivid or chaotic. Maybe now at just past 3:00 a.m. your time, you wake, not knowing why. Maybe it is because I am thinking about you, maybe it is because you are restless, maybe it is because you need to go to the bathroom!

Today I present my idea for my dissertation to my class and my teachers. I am excited. I am ready. I love my idea AND it all may change!

Pink Snow

2008-07-01T10:43:00.006-07:00

I can't take much time to write tonight because I must get to bed early. Yet I wanted to stay in touch. I am not sure if you will be able to tell from this photo, but the snow on the top of the mountain (in the center of the photo) has a slight pink shade to it. It is very obvious in real life. I have been told by many people that it is because sand has blown in from the Sahara Desert! Isn't that wild! I took this photo yesterday when the clouds were low and it seemed even more obvious. (If you double click on the photo it should enlarge it.)

So here is the question of the day, is it okay to eat pink snow?

Last day of June 2008...The conversation of relationship

2008-06-30T15:58:00.004-07:00

I began my day today with an email to my fabulous friend Pedr. He had commented on my latest blog. I wrote back telling him how good it felt to get his responses each day. Which began the swirls of thinking, early in the day, before breakfast even!

I told Pedr that it felt great to know the gift has been received. Though I try to write it just for myself. I can't help but want to know that someone else read it, too. Even better is that it spurred some response in him. The delight is when it becomes a conversation.

I thought out loud that I would like to get to the point where it doesn't matter. Can I hold my own stories and can that be enough? Is it human nature to want someone else to know what is going on and to listen? Is it human nature to want to be responded to?

After breakfast I go into a community art session where the Masters graduates were dance leaders for small groups. We danced in straight lines, the graduate at the front of the line, with 3 or 4 people in their troupe lined up behind them. Our job as their dance troupe was to follow their lead, not necessarily to mimic them but to let their movements influence ours. To support their dance out of EGS, into the world. So we took their offerings and let it influence us, feeding it back to them. Afterwards when we were on break I heard one of the graduates saying that it was difficult because they could not see what their dance troupe was doing behind them. They made the offering and then couldn’t see the response. My morning quandary had appeared here too…

synchronistically, the next event was a lecture, where we looked at the role of relationship in artmaking! Exploring the idea that every creation is a co-creation, the work asks to be shown and responded to. That in artmaking we are holding out our hand to another. We are asking for a response. Art is a conversation, whether with another or with our self. And if it is just with our self, we know that we have the option to share it with someone at any time.

So the question becomes, is it narcissistic to want a response? Or is it human nature?

For me, today, I want conversation. I want to reflect with you, I want our worlds to engage and interact. I want to offer, I want to be received. And, though it is hard to say (my Catholic martyr upbringing?) I want to be responded to! AND I want to be receptive and respond to you. I want conversation.

6-28-08 The Lenses we look through...

2008-06-28T15:53:00.006-07:00

I ended my day yesterday with wonderings about demons: can we face our demons alone or do we need others to help us see them? Or to see them more clearly? And can our demons be our guiding spirits? Do they disguise them selves as our fears?

Tonight was our last night in our leadership course. Some of my classmates were not happy with the course and with how the teacher handled things. I on the other hand had a great experience and learned a lot about myself and about how to be a better expressive arts practitioner. I also noticed that the people who were unhappy did not participate, they had the opportunity to do one-on-one work with the “expert” and they did not take the offer.

So my question is, was their dissatisfaction with the class really their demons asking for some attention? My “ship” has been on a course as of late of taking responsibility. I have learned that if I take responsibility, then I have the opportunity to learn and grow. If I don’t take responsibility I blame someone else and never get to the learning. So then my demon has to whack me over the head again, and again….

At one point in the course I too was disappointed. I had signed up for this incredibly expensive-need-to-travel-all-the-way-to-Switzerland training because of what I had heard happened in this very course that I was taking, and it wasn’t happening, he was doing it different! Was it my demon that haunted me? Disguised in disappointment? Anyone who knows me well probably knows what my next move was…I went and talked to my teacher. I told him the story that I was carrying resentment around. He looked at me with his all loving, all accepting eyes and laughed, saying, “Oh Tish.” That was all I remembered him saying. He may have said more, but that is what I remember. Those words and the look in his eyes like I had forgotten who he was. I looked back at him and said, “Okay, I will try to trust you.”

By the end of the day, I went to him and said, “Okay, I trust you, at least 99 percent.” He had one session with a student that was so brilliant that it was all I needed. Anything after would be icing on the cake.

Today he worked with me for five minutes and I was able to take something that I have been working on for at least a year and get resolution. In the review of my short session he thanked me for talking to him the day before. That it had changed the course of his actions, because of mine.

So I sit back and evaluate the course with as unjudgemental an eye as possible. I see that if I had not talked to the teacher when I was unhappy, this “thing” would have been between us and he would not have even known it. Oh, how unfair that would have been! My new moto is: “life is to friggin short.” I cannot hold back any longer, out of fear. I must speak the truth of who I am. Some of my classmates are taking their grief and resentment to bed with them tonight. And it may be because I asked for what I wanted and they didn’t. I have no regrets.

So I end this story in gratitude. I thank all the stars that have lined up to make me the fabulous person that I feel I am today. I feel my mother and my father standing beside me as I write tonight. What I have accomplished in “standing in the truth of who I am” has affected them as well. We stand united in their past, my present and our future. I am blessed. They are blessed. Life is as it should be. I cry. Tears stream down my face. They are tears so perfectly blended with joy and grief that I feel more alive than ever. I am alive! I am absolutely, without a doubt, willing to "stand in the truth of who I am". What ever happens from here is a surprise.

Dancing with our Demons

2008-06-27T15:25:00.005-07:00

Today with our morning off I slept in until almost ten! Threw my clothes on to get to breakfast before they took the food away. After, myself and four other women took a short walk through the Swiss forest to the Fletschhorn Hotel. It is a beautiful little place tucked into the side of the mountain with an incredible view. On the top floor there is a small gallery of paintings and sculpture. In the restaurant and hallways are other great works. We had a leisurely walk, wandered through the art, taking many photos, and then sat on the patio drinking coffee and sharing dessert (for lunch!) Part of me had a hard time settling in because I had planned to do work today. When I returned there was only an hour until class. Ahhhhh, deep breath and settling into the lovely, peaceful place I am in, letting go of the shoulds… piano music from our artist-in-residence playing in the background, my door open and the fresh Alpine air drifts in. The memory of the roasted apful tart still lingers in my mouth. Ahhhhh, another deep breath. Yes, I am here and I am blessed.

My horoscope today says: Today you may be more intrigued by what you don't know than by what you do know. You have a sense that you're missing something and this motivates you to delve beneath the surface to find what's hidden. You may strike gold as you uncover a treasure of information that leads you in a new direction. But then again, you might already have all the data you need.

This sounds like the last two weeks!

This was a big heart opening day. Lots of tears as I watched my fellow comrades make friends with their demons. Which allowed me to cozy up to mine a bit, too. I ended the school day walking my teacher and mentor home and being reminded once again that I am right where I am supposed to be. The best I can do to describe my day is to say, “If I die before I wake, I will die a very happy camper!”

The question I end my day with is, can we face our demons alone or do we need others to help us see them? Or to see them more clearly? It is interesting that the word demon originally meant guiding spirit. Though the word has been awarded a negative spin, I can see how the things we fear CAN be our guiding spirits. They show us where our work needs to be done and a new path to take, if we can walk through, rather than around.

All right, too late to be getting into all this, I need to rest my weary brain!

xoxo
Tish

Thursday is our first leadership day...6-26-08

2008-06-26T15:47:00.007-07:00

The photo is from our course on leadership. We created a human installation of an institution and the hierarchy of people. It wasn’t my favorite teaching, but it was fun. (Notice I am at the bottom of the totem pole. I am a student at this institute, yet, as my fellow students at the bottom there discusssed, with out us, there is no school. So we hold more power than our rank in height may show...)

We also looked at our personal history of power, how we have used it and how we want to use it in the future. In a small group discussion we started a dialog about who holds the power in the relationship? My classmate Eileen brought up the idea that every time we step out of relationship (out of eros) there is a power struggle. And isn’t it the power struggles in relationships that cause the suffering? Which brought me back to my thoughts of a couple days ago about the difference between being IN A relationship and being IN relationship. From this it seems that when we are IN A relationship, anything goes. When we are IN relationship with each other, the other has as much importance as the me. The we is as important as the me. Like healthy narcissism. If narcissus could look into the water and love his image, and then turn and offer that love to others. But he couldn’t, didn’t he drown trying to get closer to his image in the water? When we don’t truly love ourselves, then there is nothing to give the world. We withhold our love because there is not enough for even the I. What happens then if we act as if. If we act as if we love ourselves by offering acts of love to the world around us? Does the love grow inside us? Can we then stay in relationship with the “other”? Granted, I may be talking out of my ass here. But this is the musing that has come to me today, and I am fascinated by how it ties together with the last days themes.

That is it for me tonight. I am tired. My brain is tired of asking questions and trying to find answers. I am looking forward to a great night’s sleep. No class until 4:00 tomorrow, so I get to sleep in!!!! I will end with a quote that totally aligns with my state of living these days…

“Have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves... live everything. Live the question now. Perhaps then, some day far in the future, you will gradually without even noticing it, live your way into the answer. “
-Rainer Maria Rilke

Short and Sweet - Wednesday, 6-25-08

2008-06-25T16:13:00.006-07:00

Had a fabulous day today. I find it hard to believe, but summer school is half over. It has gone VERY fast.

Took a silent hike with my class to a glacier pond and painted and wrote two poems. The walk came after hearing an expressive arts therapist from Norway talk about her 15 years of work with Bosnian refugees. Children killed, men tortured in concentration camps. This while I sat in San Diego, in my little bubble. She did great work with them, helping them to return home in their bodies. Unfortunately when many returned home to Bosnia, it wasn’t a warm welcome. And most still have not finished rebuilding their homes. The silent hike in the afternoon was a perfect balancing. At 10:30 p.m. when classes were done, the student lounge was unusually crowded. The beer, wine and left over birthday cake from an earlier celebration helped sooth the hearts of the helpers who can’t heal it all. I headed down the hill as the dancing began. Still feeling quiet, maybe tomorrow I will dance. I leave you with the two poems I wrote while I was at the glacier pond.

Almost Dinner

Mosquito buzzes and bites
Leaving a red welt
My instantaneous reaction
Was to swat
He lies dead beside me
Somewhere at the edge
Of the glacier pond.
Other mosquitoes buzz
Maybe in a funeral song
Maybe just seeing me as dinner…

The Myth Revisited

I go close to the water’s edge
To catch a glimpse of Narcissus
In the glacier water.
I am curious to meet her.
Is she healthy or sick
Happy or sad?
I only see a silhouette
No details that tell any secrets.
Little hairs on the top of her head
Are wild and unruly
Just like mine
I see we have something in common.

Forever leads to love…Tuesday, 6-24-2008

2008-06-24T15:14:00.008-07:00

...or a conversation about it!

This is how my course started today…Paolo Knill, the founder of Expressive Arts and my mentor, playing his grand piano as we stretched, danced, or did what we wanted (he does this everyday, three times a day, when we have him as a teacher). For me it was a moving meditation. (in both senses of the word) As I stretched, the idea, “What if love just is,” crept in. What if I don’t attach any meaning to love. I take it down to the phenomenon, rather than conceptualizing it by attaching it to forever. What if love just is, and then that love is brought to relationship. Rather than looking to the relationship for love?

I am not exactly sure what it all means, but at the time that I had the thought it felt new and exciting! Or one that I had accepted in a new way. Which then of course leads me to need to define love. What is it, for me? I gave myself the homework today to look at my personal philosophy around love and relationship. What have been my guiding ideas in the past, and are they still in tact today or have they changed? Or do they want to change.

One thing I know for sure, this is a very exciting time for me in my life. The vision of the work that I had with my mother when she was dying: working with teens using the arts, came true and it feels fabulous. I am here in this amazing land, studying with some amazing people from all around the world. And I have these great questions and wonderings coursing through my heart and veins. More questions are coming than answers, but I think that is the fun part, a feeling of being totally alive! Here are a couple more questions that came up:

What is the difference between “being in a relationship” and “being in relationship”?
Do we long to be in A relationship, and then when we get it, avoid being “in relationship” in that relationship? (Is that a conundrum? Say that 3 times fast!) Thank goodness for questions because then I have something to write about tomorrow!

This was a great day! Getting to watch my mentor, the master in this field, at work; connecting in conversation with friends from all over the world where things are so different yet so similar; sharing good food with those friends; having the evening free (to balance my checkbook, paint, talk to Shea(!!!!!) and other friends via iChat and Skype; and now, lay my head to rest, earlier than usual. Life is good. Thanks for reading!

Stay cool, don’t worry about being a fool, live the biggest life you can! (Yikes, did I say that?!)

Musings about love...Sunday 6-22-08

2008-06-23T15:05:00.004-07:00

On a personal quest, I brought with me questions about relationship. What is my attachment to “forever”, my longing for forever, what does it mean to me? I didn’t pre-plan that theme (do we ever?) As I decorated my journal for taking notes in my courses I looked through a box of word scraps and what words I was attracted to, “forever” was one. I wasn’t sure why, and I really didn’t like it, but I glued it onto the front of my book anyway, because it felt like it insisted on being there. The call was greater than the aversion I guess. So every day I look at this journal with the word forever on it. It began irritating me early on. One night I added the word “sucks” next to it! Forever Sucks! In my walks and hikes I have been talking to my classmates, mostly women, about their relationships. Married 30 years, married 33 years, married 27 years, married 10 years… learning their stories of how they met, how they stayed together, how it is now. They all love the person they are with now, more than they did when they met. They would not choose differently.

A teacher in my life told me years ago to “beware of the idea of forever” that it does not exist. That it is a trap for suffering. At that point I created meaning for myself, that relationships are not forever. I could not let go of my thinking that love is forever. And I still have not, nor am I sure that I want to. I have always felt like a forever person, yet I see that I have not chosen forever relationships. Maybe they don’t exist, maybe it wasn’t really what I wanted. It is a humbling moment when I accept responsibility for this fact. Not blaming anyone, but seeing it is me that walked this journey.

And then to combine these two themes, the idea of forever, or not, and resilience and glimmers of hope, or not. How do we stay resilient in the journey of love. Do the marriages that last bend back easily, finding the shape that brought them together? Do they choose more love than fear? Everyone I talked to said they had shaky moments that they thought the relationship might end, but it didn’t and they are grateful. I felt filled with hope a few months ago. What was the meaning that I gave to love that created that hope?

As I sit here writing I hear the birds singing a delightful improv. A choir of song is floating in also, sounds like traditional songs of Switzerland, complete with clapping. I can imagine that there is dancing that the music is supporting, too. Then, the occasional baaa of a sheep works as an accent to an already lively production. Today is Sunday. I have lost track of days so realizing that it is Sunday helped my state of reverence and musing find comfort in it being the Sabbath.

Thanks for stopping in…

Summer is here! 6-21-08

2008-06-22T06:08:00.002-07:00

Interesting how themes arise. I came in to this training holding the wondering if resilience can be taught. Then when I prepared my presentation on suffering I connected to the question, is a necessary ingredient in resilience a glimmer of hope? And that leading to the question, how helpful are the arts in creating a glimmer of hope?… And everywhere the idea of “a glimmer of hope” seems to be popping up. In my presentation on suffering and then in lectures, movies and conversations. Someone else even noticed it too, and they weren’t even carrying these questions… I muse if the conversation was always around and I didn’t notice it or do we attract the conversations that we long for?

I brought my thoughts on hope and resilience onto a light hike called the chapel walk. It is a path from Saas Fee down to the lower town, Saas Grund, about a 2 hour hike with a stop to eat my lunch. Along the walk are scenes depicted in little houses, maybe a little smaller than a garden shed, of the life of Jesus. Near the top of the walk (near Saas Fee) there is a small chapel where they hold mass and where you can light candles. As I hiked I mused about the Jesus story and how religion revolves around giving people hope, offering stories around creation, survival, and re-creation. I noticed the simple act of lighting a candle in the chapel was an act of looking for a glimmer of hope, that the prayer I offered when lighting it, would be answered.

I then started looking at 12 step meetings and how they too offer stories of survival and recreation. One of the gifts of expressive arts is that it reconnects us to a community where we can tell our stories through artmaking. We as people have been separated from the communities where we made art. Where we danced the days hunt, around the campfire. Where we wove our family story into the blanket for the winter. Where we painted our bodies and faces, the walls, the dirt. Where the stories of our ancestors were alive in the community.

Maybe that is why these blogs have gotten so popular. Because we, as human beings crave story. We are hungry for the inner workings of our friends, family and even strangers so that we know that we are not alone. And equally longing to tell our own story to someone who will listen and care for that story.

I don’t know where all this musing is going, but it is swirling in my heart and my head and it makes me feel alive and happy. Thank you for taking the time to listen to my stories. And thank you to those who have responded with your own stories. The dialogue is where the real satisfaction comes. Letting one story inspire another. The connection that is made between our hearts when we respond to each other. The listening to another and the listening to ourselves. If you feel brave enough, you can not just respond to me directly, but you can click the comment button just below each entry, and share your story with my small community. Don’t worry, this is not going out to the whole world.

Much love and thanks to you. Happy Summer!

An easy day 6-20-08

2008-06-20T15:44:00.000-07:00

Today was a fairly easy, low key day, and tomorrow we have the morning off! Yipee! Add to that I painted today, and life is good. It was the first painting I have done for me in quite a few months…I improvised a little poem about it when we presented what we did:

A walk in the wild flowers,
Brings me back dizzy
With color.

Before I started painting I went out and photographed color. (An assignment my friend and colleague, Sabine, gave to her class.) When I came back the idea of painting nature was over powered by my desire to do one of my blind portraits of myself. I cried as I drew it when I realized how long it had been since I did one, and how long it has been since I have done art for art’s sake. Not to sell or for promotional purposes. Thank God!

Saw a film of the people from Sierra Leone that Carrie has been working with, as well as a film about an artist, Albert Acalay, who created thousands and thousands of paintings in his life time. He had escaped the concentration camps by telling them that he was young and had great things to do in his life yet… He died recently at age 90. He painted most every day until then. He said that he must put a paint brush in his hand every day, because he must. He also said something like, painting pinches me in the ass until I get going… Someday I hope to have a studio like his that I spend time in EVERY day!!!!

One of the wonderful things about this summer school is the relationships you create. I have a wonderful class. No big irritations between the members (yet), though we have two plus weeks to go! (Yet we were together for 3.5 weeks last year and got along for the most part.) You hang with these people every single day, morning, noon and night, they become family. I am very grateful. This year, to the best of my knowledge, we have people from: U.S., Canada, Switzerland, Germany, Norway, South Africa, Peru, Columbia, Egypt, Turkey, Palestine, Italy and Austria. I may be missing someplace… My classmate from Austria looks like he could be my brother! (My ancestors from my mother’s father’s side were from Austria.) Some day I would like to go check out my “roots” and the great thing about going to school here is that I have friends all over the world.

Time to get to bed. Though I have tomorrow morning off, breakfast is only served until 10:00 a.m. and breakfast is my absolute favorite meal here, so I don’t want to miss it! (This fabulous dense grain bread that I top with brie and jelly, a soft boiled egg, strawberry yogurt, amazing coffee, grapefruit juice… I have looked everywhere for this bread, it is so good, but I cannot find it in San Diego…)
Good Night!

2008-06-20T05:47:00.002-07:00

Seven hours from now,

Seven hours from now in a different time zone,

my son will be graduating.

He says, "It is only eighth grade."

I say, "And you are my only son."

Have a great time Shea, I will be thinking about you!

Trouble in Swissy City

2008-06-19T14:36:00.005-07:00

Well, maybe trouble is a word that is a little big...My adapter broke for my computer. So I will have to see if I can replace it or my dear friend Pedr has offered to FedEx me one...A very kind gesture. I am caught between knowing that NOT having a computer would lend itself to more of a "getting away" feeling. And, I am really enjoying writing on it...so, you will see. I can still use the Schools computer, it is just a first come first serve situation.

On another note, we had a great day. Hiked up to a glacier lake and did land art. My group did a creation story of sorts. We birthed a woman out of the mud. She was such a brave participant. She was naked, covered in mud, half in freezing glacier water. It was quite a surprise to our audience when she rose from the mud. Photo is attached but it may be too small to see her, she has not yet been birthed (if you click or double click on it it should open in a new window)...It was nice to have a day that was about being in this beautiful country and no classroom work! Tomorrow we will be back to it. Hopefully I will be well rested!

Hope to keep in touch..the computer situation will tell more. My battery is already at half way...

Day 7 - 6/18/08

2008-06-18T16:03:00.002-07:00

Wow. Wow. WOW. Monica and I did our presentation on suffering today. It was amazing, honoring, emotional, big. Once again I get in touch with what an honor it is to do this work and my respect for those who are doing it along side me. I am not sure that I can say anymore at this moment. I am growing bigger this year in a way that I am becoming more humble and also feeling my insignificance. What I know more than anything is that I am blessed. Thank you.

And just after our presentation on suffering, the sun came out for the first time since being here. Do you think it was a coincidence or did we give the sorrow the nod that it was asking for so that the clouds could go on vacation?

Speaking of vacations. Tomorrow we get to take a mandatory hike. THANK YOU! They say the sun will shine tomorrow too!

By the way, does anyone know how I post photos on this blog? If you do, email me!

Day 5 – 6/16/06

2008-06-18T04:58:00.001-07:00

The overwhelm of my day and a presentation I need to get ready for may limit my writing today. We are on a philosophy section and it is so much information and then testing my beliefs. I can’t imagine being a foreign speaker and trying to take it all in…

We had to break into dyads and my partner and I will be exploring the topic of “victim” and presenting it to our class. I am very excited because the whole idea of victim was a total surprise from a topic on resilience that I started with. My partner on the project, Monica, is from Peru and has been working with the earthquake victims there and is using them as her starting point or our study. I will be thinking of the homeless high school students that I just had the privilege of working with, so two different kinds of “victims”. Mostly though I will be looking at my own life. Perfect. This has been a topic of mine the last few months, once again serendipity has found me. This school is so invigorating. They are less interested in what we know than in what we don’t know and want to learn. The questions, the excitement, the passion….I am grateful.

Lucky for you, short and sweet!
Love
Tish
P.S. I hear cow bells in the distance!

Day 4. 6/15/08 Philosophy Anyone?

2008-06-16T06:17:00.002-07:00

Today we looked at the ideas of home and exile. Which was amazing in the fact that at lunch, just before class started, I was talking to someone about my longing for home. Not missing San Diego, but the longing that I have been carrying with me much of my adult life, or maybe my whole life. What does "home" mean for me? We did an art process on exploring that for ourselves and then looked at the idea of "exile", what does that mean for us?

In the evening we went to a panel discussion on the topic. It was a fascinating thing to experience in myself that through (imagining) exile my connection to myself got greater, in a new and unexpected way. Then a colleague on the panel who is doing expressive arts with the ex boy soldiers in Sierra Leone shared stories of many whom are now amputees. Missing arms or legs and living in refugee camps. And how they know home in a deeper way than I have ever thought of. A young boy who had both his legs cut off by his captures said, “Home is dancing on my hands.”

Fabulously brilliant ideas were thrown around the room and got me thinking and asking more questions. Here are a few that struck me:

- We are exiles when we do not know the consequences of our actions.
- Reconciliation of the most basic level is when skin touches skin.
- Home is the absence of what was.
- The absence is where home lives.
- In the emptiness or absence we can feel our own humanity.
- Connecting in our emptiness…
- Every ground is a potential graveyard.
- Is exile a myth?
- Why are we so attached to the stories of exile?
- A nation that exiles others is impoverished itself.
- Does exile serve as a resource for human evolution?
- Every belonging creates an exclusion.
- What does it mean to belong?
- Can we long for a place or is it the memory we associate with the place that we long for?

The question that I then turned to for myself is: Is my longing for home a self induced exile? Am I more comfortable believing I am on the outside of my desire, that it is not being met? I know that doing the art on exile was much more satisfying than doing the art on home. And the home that I ultimately created in exile, had a depth that my original home piece did not have. Granted, this is all in the imaginal. And I could not know the exile that many in the world feel, yet I can imagine who I know myself to be and what I think I would do, and I have experienced small exiles in my life. So the next question becomes, can I create that level of intimacy with myself, that deep sense of home that I imagined in my art, without being exiled, or is exile a necessary step toward “home”. What I do know, and this is the GIFT of this work I love to do, expressive arts, is that I for the first time I felt some semblance of what “home’ meant for me in the deeper sense. So now I do not feel so alienated from it. I feel like I have enough of a sense of it that I can go back to and maybe even build from. Don’t know if that makes sense. I would love to hear your ideas on it, email me!

Just another Sunday evening in Saas Fee with a little philosophy thrown in…I am way too tired to write more at this moment. I will end on a Nietzsche quote from tonight…

“You must have chaos inside you to birth a dancing star.”

My camera is not working still, hopefully by tomorrow I can get it figured out and start posting some photos. Of course, today was cold and rainy, clouds covered the mountains so there was no hint of them. If it wasn’t for the strange architecture, we could have been in La Jolla on a June gloom day…

Lots of love! Tish

Day 3...Settling in to a not-so-foreign land

2008-06-15T04:54:00.001-07:00

It was a strange moment when I got off the plane and walked down the tunnel to the airport. The tunnel wasn’t really a tunnel because it had windows and you could see the fleet of Swiss planes lined up. There was a moment that I almost forgot that was where I was and that I was now half way across the world. This is my fifth summer in Switzerland, so it is very familiar, and still filled with differences and surprises.

Which got me thinking about what is different about being in Switzerland?

- The obvious difference is in the landscape, especially the town of Saas Fee where I am staying. It is like living in a postcard. In the Alps with the Alps rising high above in all directions. This is not a place for the claustrophobic. Yet the sky, expecially the night sky, is a window to the universe.
- I am completely dehydrated. the altitude and dry air I am guessing. Feels like I can’t drink enough water…(Saas Fee is at about 6,000 feet…I live at maybe 100 feet…big difference. The top of the mountain is over 11,000 feet…)
- Speaking of water, you can get fabulous glacier water straight from the tap. I am a water snob I must admit, and this is the best.
- Nose bleeds…or at least nose blows that bleed. A colorful addition to your tissue.
- Swiss hot cocoa, nothing better!!!!
- My pants aren’t warm enough…it is cold here! (I think it was in the low 40’s today…) So much for packing the light weight pants…may need to double layer them…
- I laid down on my Heidi bed yesterday for a nap and woke up with a big ole hip pain. Not good. Usually the beds are mucho comfortable. I am sure that it may have had something to do with the 24 hours of travel that I had prior to laying down. Hopefully stretching and ibupropin will help alleviate it soon. The swiss though know how to create warm and cozy beds with their down comforters.
- Gas is at a premium, and I don’t mean fuel! The altitude blows your belly up like a balloon. Plus I am eating vegetarian…at least it is fragrance free!
- The bathrooms all have state of the art plumbing. Even if the establishment isn’t that nice, the bathroom will have modern fixtures and be impeccably clean.
- Speaking of clean. Everything in Switzerland is clean. You could eat off the airport floor. There is no trash anywhere and if there is it was probably an American who left it! On my travels on the train an old Swiss woman shook her finger at me for putting my feet on the seat across from me…with my shoes on. All I could think of was elevating my puffy feet, I had a lapse of recall of where I was.
- They don’t create much trash. They don’t have disposables, with zillions of layers of packaging. They buy what they need for a day or two and it is fresh.
- They speak Swiss German, or Italian or French and they almost all speak English too. My friend Iris who lives outside of Zurich, her kids speak all of the languages, Swiss German, Italian, French and English. These kids aren't the exception, it is the norm. What a great thing! The owner of the hotel that hosts all the students told us tonight that all kids in Saas Fee go away to boarding school from age 15 - 20. As a mom, that doesn't sound so good...
- You can hear accordion music wafting through the air on a (cold) summer night. Just happened, went out on my balcony and listened to a little concert. Brrrrrr…

All right, I am sure there is much more that I could write. But it has officially clicked past my bedtime! We began with a short 3 hour gathering with introductions tonight. The routine starts tomorrow: 9:15 – 12:30, 4:00 – 6:30 and finally 8:00 – 10:30 p.m.

In the opening “ceremony of sorts” Margo Fuchs read a poem. The last line of it was: LIFE NEEDS US FULLY AWAKE. I leave you with that and the question, what can you do in your life today to show that you are fully awake?
Good Night, xoxo Tish

Day one and two...plus the pre-travel musings of a packaphobic

2008-06-14T05:46:00.000-07:00

Swissyland Adventure – take off and landing

"Sixty pounds!" That is ridiculous! That is the result of my packing light? Packing light was my guiding force. Packing light influenced all my decisions while I packed. I will take these pants because they weigh less. Granted there are six pairs. These layered shirts are good because I need to be ready for summer or winter since I am traveling to the alps and then to Ohio, maybe 14 of those. I decided not to take many things, like shoes…what if I would have taken them all? I must admit that I may have a Packing Disorder, it is a little known disorder, not yet listed in the DSM.

Someday when it is listed in the DSM (The Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders) it will probably contain some of these in it’s description:
- Feels extreme anxiety when it is time to pack for a trip
- Empty suitcase and open closet door may cause a panic attack
- Stress level rises as packing begins.
- Questions like, “How will I know what I want to wear on day 1 or even day10?” create increases in blood pressure.
Once packed, the repeating thought that “there is still room for one more thing” wins out over any kind of sanity.
- Packing does not end until the absolute last moment of exit from home, and may include a trip or two back into the house for last minute forgotten items.
- When arriving at the final destination there are immediate remembering of what was forgotten.

I don’t think it would be listed as a personality disorder like being borderline, or a mental disorder like schizophrenia or a medical condition. But then again, if I am suffering from it, would I even know? Maybe it is psychosocial… a generational result of depression era parents, who worried that there may not be enough for the next day, week or year. Or maybe it is purely mathematical or organizational, and I am missing that gene. I know I am not the only one afflicted by this disturbation, maybe a support group could help. "Hello, my name is Tish and I am packingly challenged." I have a fantasy of someday going on an extended trip, okay maybe not extended (to begin with) maybe start with a week or a weekend…with just what I can comfortably, easily, without hardly noticing it is there, carry on my back or wear on my back. A good bucket list item or new years resolution. This reminds me I did do that for a few days last year when I traveled in Switzerland before school started. I grabbed a few items from my suitcase and shipped the big ole thing to Saas Fee while I carried the weeks needs on my back…(Wow, the exceptional case! I have one, maybe there is hope for me!)

To make a long story shorter, I had (luckily) packed an extra duffle bag for the option of bringing more home than I left with, so I was able to transfer 10 pounds of “stuff” to that bag and avoid the $50 Your-bag-is-way-to-heavy-lady fee. And low and behold, between last year and this year, someone conveniently redesigned the Swiss trains so now you do not have to lift your bags up 3 or 4 steep narrow steps to get on the train, but just roll it on. (you must do it quickly enough that you get a smidgen of air so that your wheels don’t get caught in the 4 inch crack between landing and train.)

So, I have arrived. Have a lovely room in the hotel this year rather than an apartment at the edge of town. I had to pay them 3 francs more a day to get them to unlock a little mini kitchen so that I could store my apples and cheese in the fridge for my evening ritual and not have my vitamins all over my dining room table. I have a little sitting area also with a television that has cable. I hope that my life here is never so boring that I need to ever watch it, unless it is to learn a little German. I have re-arranged my room so that it passes my personal feng shui expectations. There is little to do about my bed, which looks like it was made for Heidi, but I do have two hideaway beds if I want to sleep in the middle of my living room, or invite guests for a sleep-over.

Thanks for listening to my musings. I decided that this would get me writing, which has been my goal as of late, and also, keep me from having to write the same thing over and over to each of you. So check in every day. Or every once in a while. Or never again! Your choice. Granted I won’t have as much to say as school begins tonight and I won’t have leisure time like right now. Feels good to be on vacation for a day…or most of a day! Lots of love to you!