It's already time again for the St. Paul Art Crawl!

 

 

I've been busy the past few months getting my 'real' life in order. And by 'real' I mean the part of my life that keeps me clothed and provides me important stuff like health insurance and groceries... finding steady employment and all that. So my blog has been neglected - but never fear, I have a wall full of chickens awaiting Crawl vistors at the Lowertown Lofts Artists Cooperative and Brian (from "Guess What? Chicken Putt!") and Tanya (from my sisterhood of women who rock) will have a little display of images and pieces we have created with a question in mind for viewers. Come down to find out what we want to know. Come take part in my fantasy life that I never thought I'd get to live!

Kitty will also be featured in a fantastic banana video and a series of photos - do not miss out!

April 24 - 25 - 26 

Friday: 6-10, Saturday: 12-8, Sunday: 12-5

All over Lowertown in St. Paul MN

find me in and around studio 510 at 255 East Kellogg Blvd.

entrance in the alley between Wall and Wacouta

Introducing Derek!

 

One of my very favorite things in life is to meet a kid who loves to create - and I met one this summer who blew me away. I volunteered at a bike race Art Tent decorating racing numbers with little kids and youth artist, Derek Bellas, volunteered too.  We happened to have sidewalk chalk on hand.

 

In a matter of minutes, Derek managed to turn the entire intersection on which we were stationed into a gigantic work of art and it was amazing.

 

The Lowertown Lofts Artist Cooperative has invited Derek to come down for the Fall Art Crawl and do the same in our alley on Saturday morning. Don't miss his work behind 255 East Kellogg between our building and 262 on the alley between Wall and Wacouta.

 

 

info and free bus/rail passes: www.stpaulartcrawl.org and LLAC info: www.lowertownlofts.org

Sometimes, it's not about chickens. But don't tell the chickens.

 

 

          

Come to the Art Crawl October 10, 11 and 12!

See these guys at the Lowertown Lofts Artist Cooperative on the fifth floor!

www.lowertownlofts.org

 

 

Make Cranes With Hannah at the Crawl!

 

 

1000 cranes. Three days. We can do it.

 

That's Hannah! Hannah is a superstar origami crane maker and will be one of our featured guest artists at the Saint Paul Art Crawl in a couple of weeks! She has already folded over 200 cranes herself and is hoping to hang 1000 of them in our atrium during the weekend in the Lowertown Lofts Artist Cooperative. She will be doing demos on Saturday October 11 from 5:00 to 7:00 p.m. and Sunday October 12 from 1:30 to 3:30 p.m.  We will have instructions and help from coop artists who Hannah has trained at all times throughout the Crawl so stop by any time to help her reach her goal!

Information about the Saint Paul Art Crawl can be found at http://www.stpaulartcrawl.org/

October 10, 11 and 12

Lowertown Lofts Artist Cooperative information is at www.lowertownlofts.org

255 East Kellogg Blvd. Alley Entrance - Hannah will be on Fifth Floor in the atrium.

 

 

 

PS - You can get FREE LIGHT RAIL/BUS PASSES at the art Art Crawl web site and the train gets you right to the Union Depot Station, a block away from us and smack dab in the middle of the Art Crawl!

Listen, Take It In, Repeat, Listen for More, Repeat…

        I called this blog post 'Listen, Take it in, Repeat, Listen for More, Repeat...' for the Emily Program. That's an important message I want to get through with the post - but I think underlying that is another message: working with kids can change your life!

 

   Subtitle: I Love Being a Nanny. (Listen, Take It In, Repeat, Listen for More, Repeat…)

             A while back I was getting ready to leave work as a nanny for two girls, ages 5 and 3, who knew I was going to officiate my cousin’s wedding that Saturday.

“What are you going to wear to the wedding, Cami? You’ll wear a dress right? It’s a wedding so you have to wear a dress!” Emma said.

“Cami hates dresses, you know that!” said Megan.  “Right, Cami?  You don’t even have a dress do you?”

She was right. I owned no dresses.

 “Yes, she does! She has a dress!” Emma looked at me. “Cami, you have that really pretty shiny black dress! Remember?”

Megan and I stared at her for a moment trying to recall a time when I wore a shiny black dress.

Finally Megan said, “OOOOOH, I know what you mean, Emma! No. That’s not a dress. That’s her swimsuit. She’s talking about your swimsuit, Cami. It is really pretty. You should wear that.”

“Yeah! Wear that. You look so so pretty in that.”

I smiled, imagining what my mother’s face would look like if I showed up to officiate my cousin’s wedding in a swimsuit. “Thanks,girls! I don’t know if I should wear my swimsuit to a wedding, but I’ll think about it.” I left with a warm heart and a new sense of what I looked like in my swimsuit.

 And I did think about it. A lot.

On the way home, I recalled all of the times I walked through the YMCA or around the city pools with the kids ashamed of myself and my body, hurrying to get into the pool so I could hide in the water where no one would see me in my swimsuit. I remembered the times throughout my life I cried because I felt too fat to go swimming.

 I remembered the times I heard people make comments about my body or someone else’s body at the pool – or times I commented on other people myself. I remembered the discomfort and embarrassment of shopping for a swimsuit and wishing I could just never have to wear one even though swimming was one of my favorite activities. I cried.

But the tears weren’t because I was still ashamed. I was finally at a point in my recovery where I could talk back to the shame and have fun at the pool.  I was crying about the fact that our society allows people to shame each other and ourselves into hating our bodies. I was crying in grief about all of the fun I have missed out on in the past while feeling too embarrassed and deeply ashamed to take part.

And I then I began to cry in happy gratitude for the two beautiful girls who helped me understand things differently.

Although I was able to ignore societal messages and fight shaming myself or other people – I had not yet come to a place where this came easily, it was a fight every time. I still had not found beauty where I had once found shame.

After having this conversation with Megan and Emma and spending time talking about it, I began to look at women at the pool in a whole new light. I saw them through the eyes of the children they had with them: the people around them who loved their souls and were not at all concerned about the bodies that came with it. The body the kids saw was safety and love and care and fun and warmth and joy and BEAUTIFUL just like my body (and I, myself) was to these girls.

I started listening for and remembering positive words people who I knew loved my soul used about my body after that, not just kids: but my mom, my sister, my boyfriend, my friends and strangers. I heard comfort. I heard soft. I heard warm. I heard beautiful. I heard sexy. I heard fun. I heard pretty.

I have let those messages drown the old recordings I had from past encounters, the horrible things I told myself and messages I still get daily from the media. And now my negative judgment about my body is gone, as is my judgment about bodies of other people.

          Everything is a lot more fun and a whole lot easier without all of the shame and judgment that the eating disorder placed on top of it. And by everything I mean shopping for clothes, walking down the street, dating, having sex, eating dinner, meeting new people, looking in the mirror, watching tv….. everything.

By the way, I did not wear my swimsuit when I officiated the wedding.  But had I worn it, I would have felt like the most beautiful woman in the room – and no one could have convinced me otherwise, except maybe the bride.

Poodle at 'To the Nines' Book Launch Celebration!

 

Almanac Author Readings · Art Exhibit Opening · Live Music from Local Bands · Local Food and Drink · Storymobile · and the Poodle
Thursday, September 11th — 7:00 p.m. — 308 Prince Street, Saint Paul, MN

 

 

 

The Saint Paul Almanac gave away past editions of the almanacs to artists and said be inspired by something in the book and create art using the book. I searched to book for an image of a chicken but found not one single chicken!  So I ended up making the poodle you see above with Shanti the neighbordog because I found this fabulous pooch:
 

 

You can come see the poodle and the photo which inspired it (not the original, but a copy from the book which is part of the poodle!) at the AZ Gallery in Lowertown through the month of September and it is part of the party on September 11th! 

 

 

A Very Important List - An Emily Program Post

I have a second post up on the Emily Program's blog today.  I thought I wrote it in response to the suicide of Robin Williams, but it is actually in response to the thousands of suicides that happen every year. It blows my mind that suicide takes the lives of over 30,000 Americans (www.save.org) every year and people are still uncomfortable talking about it and the disease which so often is its cause: depression.

My hope is that we can eventually break down the shame that surrounds all mental illness so that those of us who struggle can freely speak of our pain and seek treatment without fear of judgment.



Here is the link to the Emily Program site with my post, A Very Important List, if you'd like to read it there with a link to my previous post and find posts by other people in recovery.

 

Or here it is right here:

A Very Important List

I struggled with an eating disorder and depression for several years of my life. Over the past few years I have been living a life free from both.  I am very grateful for every person who stepped in to give me a hand along the way and for every single thing I picked up that helped me realize that this life of happiness is possible.

Early on in treatment for my eating disorder and depression I learned that keeping one important list was vital to my ability to recover – even survive.

It was a list of names and phone numbers. I had it everywhere: in my pocket, my wallet, the kitchen drawer, my glove box. It included numbers for my doctors, my therapists and emergency contacts for moments when I felt in crisis. My parents kept the same list nearby at all times as well.

The list also included numbers for friends and family. I was lucky to have several people living nearby with whom I had openly shared my struggles and who had offered to help in any way they could. They were people I had asked to be on this phone list of support people. For me, this support often meant sitting silently with me while I cried, listening to me ramble about what may have sounded like nonsense to them on the other end of the phone or coming over and help me decide whether or not it was okay to eat dessert.

Early on, however, it was more than just support. When I was in the darkest depths of depression, it was the people on the list that perhaps kept me alive.

Depression took me to a place that is nearly impossible to describe, almost impossible to fully recall now that I am recovered. It was dark and murky. I was slow and my thoughts moved through my mind slowly as if molasses had been poured into the top of my head, yet at times my brain seemed to make split decisions for me that came like lightning bolts. These decisions were often based on the saddest and most terrifying moments of my life, even if at that given moment everything was peaceful with the sun shining and our Maltese dog sleeping quietly on my lap.

I can easily see how a suicidal thought can become reality to someone with depression.

My doctors and therapists asked me at each appointment if I had suicidal thoughts. Thoughts of death came and went for me, and although I never specifically thought about causing my own death, we knew it wasn’t okay for me to be alone since I usually answered that I didn’t care if I was alive. We all knew, that based on this and the chemical make-up of my brain at the time, this ilness could be terminal for me.

I needed my list to stay alive.

At the time, I was in my last year of college and lived with my parents. I was in a mental health day treatment program for depression so I had care during the day. In the evenings my parents were available to keep me company, but it was exhausting for them. It was draining work to sit with me every night of the week.

They used the list. Very dear friends would come and sit at our house just to make sure I kept breathing while my parents left to take a break. I wasn’t entertaining or fun. The most I did was sit there silently, or sleep, or talk about feeling miserable. But still they came and probably saved my life.

They knew they were called simply to be there, knowing there was nothing they could do to fix me, nothing they could do to make it better. They just came and sat and listened, ready to take me to the hospital or call 911 if it seemed as though I was turning toward a panic attack or suicide.

I’m guessing they were uncertain, concerned and sad for me, as well as bored silly, but still they came and sat patiently with me, as did my family, until the day my treatments began to work and my depression lifted.

The medications and talk therapy brought me back to a place where I could function normally once again. Meanwhile, it was the list of friends and family that kept me safe. As I moved forward from that severe episode of depression I faced other minor episodes on and off. My medications changed and I continued therapy to keep on top of the illness.

Throughout the years I have been in support groups and met several wonderful women who are now the top names on my list. It was the continual treatment and the growth of support that kept me healthy and here today recovered and certain that neither and eating disorder nor depression will ever beat me.

Today I still use my list. Even though I am not in crisis and have not been depressed for several years, I still feel like it saves my life because it keeps me recovered. I know which people are people I can call on in moments when I need someone to just be there – for me. I have learned that it is okay to ask for that when I need it and I call.

I am also aware that depression is a medical condition and that it can pop up at any time so I need to be prepared with the best tools I have to fight it if it returns: I always have my list. I also make sure people have my name on theirs and that I make time for them when they call.

 

If you can’t reach a friend or family member and are in crisis

please call 911 or reach out for help at these crisis lines:

1-888-511-SAVE (7283) or 1-800-273-TALK (8255).

 

 

 

 

WHERE TO FIND ME NOW

I have added a new WHERE TO FIND ME! over there on the right.
Here is why:

I have always been an artist and a writer. For much of my life I didn't know how important these things were to me. I didn't grow up in a community where the arts played an important role or mattered much to anyone. My immediate family and most of my extended family, with the exception of one aunt, didn't put much emphasis on the arts so I never nourished those parts of myself as much as was necessary for me to recognize myself as an artist early on in life. In fact, I flat out ignored those aspects of myself for a very long time.

I was forced to pay attention to that part of me, however, when I was faced with illness. I was diagnosed with clinical depression during college and while in treatment for that realized that a major part of who I was had been missing from who I was and in order for me to heal I needed to take care of that. I found great amounts of peace and joy in art therapy and found myself creating things that people appreciated beyond their ability to help with my own healing process. I continued to make art and have now made it my life. As my treatment continued I also realized that my relationship with food was very disordered and continued treatment at The Emily Program which is a national eating disorder treatment center headquartered in the Twin Cities and am fully recovered from both depression and my eating disorder.

I tell this story as an introduction to a series of blog posts I will be writing for The Emily Program's Blog. As a recovered client, I have been asked to contribute to their blog for a few months to tell my story. Without help from places like The Emily Program I would not be making art, I would not be fully myself and I know many others who share my story. Please take a moment to learn about them and their program. Tuck them away in your pocket because chances are you will have opportunity to pass their information along to someone you care about someday - and that person will be very grateful.

...and we have a chicken!

Ladies and Gentlemen (and everyone in between and beyond or outside...),

WE HAVE A CHICKEN!  Actually the chicken arrived at the mini-golf course a few weeks ago but I haven't had a chance to get over there and get a close up view of her yet. The day I was there to take this picture was the same weekend as Rock the Garden so everything was fenced off and the golf course was closed. I was disappointed but happened to be there right during Dessa's sound check so it was almost as if the chicken and I were getting a private show. Can't complain about that!

Please go to the Walker and enjoy "Guess What? Chicken Putt!" now that the hole has been completed.  Brian and I are still able to take guests so call us if you want to play but are as broke as we are!

Yay! There's a chicken at the Walker! Go see the chicken!

Best Job in the World

 

 

I can't begin to explain how excited I am to be spending my summer making art with kids all over the Twin Cities. There really are no words, so I am posting images! Above you see a bike made at the  at the Southside Sprint bike race. And that is our talented volunteer Derek resting after decorating the entire intersection with his own design!

 

The airplane below is a work of art from a gourd art workshop at the Dakota County Library in Apple Valley I led through Art Scraps yesterday. Is there anything more awesome?

 

My neighbor, Tara, and I are hard at work preparing to make an arts program for kids our full time permanent job and I do believe I will be the happiest person in the world from here on out!