Hi lady,
How are 'ya ?
I hope the post surgery pain is decreasing every day, and that you're outta bed by now.
Berlin was fantastic fun, even with the fam. Sis came from Oz and shocked us all, the rascal.
I'm pretty pleased with the show, it still goes on until Oct 12 but we only had the one week
before going back (me: to chemo and also art school ! boys: to the office)
Sylvie and Wayne arrived and I nearly had a brain anurism from cognitive dissonance trying to bridge the two worlds...
You can see for yourself in the Fllickr links the happy dialogues...
We even did the family trip to the park for scoring some meds pour moi...
I think I'm in euphoric/utopic space.
Here are some word from my "letter home" for the show:
A home coming.
An initiation of the masculine/feminine person into creative practice takes place on occasion of great illness. Disabled, the masculine/feminine body waits to be mended in a field, while all
that time its mind races and thirsts for knowledge.
The last of its sex, now the eldest IT has a mission:
to find and locate familial information around the physical body, regarding origination of the carcinogen. Its origin may lye in collective/personal trauma, passed down through the physical subconscious, deep down under dermis.
The Lena of the species is now on fire. Solar plexes open, out through the rectal muscle causing
a warming of the uterus. Helm at hand and hand we are driving towards each other causing
moons on top and bottoms to melt into warm water.
The Lena Grand mother survived the Great war and was made invalid by the soldiers.
They replaced her uterus with twins, which now run in sequence @double helix code.
Helms are powerful navigators, they control information. in order to leave our body/houses
we need to know how to control them. Who ever controls the Helm/Plexus controls one's climate.
A masculine/feminine prodigal person is now home, self-mendicating.
* Lena is GAGA for pelvic bone
Here are some more words, from my initial response:
Dear Home,
I can't move.
I'm stuck like a bug on the floor and am calling people on the phone to help me up. I'm being shipped to the emergency room, they can't see anything wrong with me although I'm in immense pain.
Take a pill and sleep on it, they say and meanwhile the cancer spreads and spreads and enters my bones. CT scan, MRI scan, Doppler scan, X-Ray scan, and my body doesn't straighten itself well enough to fit into the machines, I cry, bitch and moan then pass out. Blessed Morphine, the bone mapping discovers and uncovers the situation: the cancers moved from my breast to my bones and spread all over my body from head to toe, or liver.
I wake up in Oncology couple months later, my family surrounds me, hovering worried sick.
Dear home, I'm a cripple.
I can't leave you now.
I have to fix this, by
breaking my
own
pattern
not knowing my family history does not exempt from living it,
the body knows and remembers.
My body is an archive of sensation.
My mind is the engine for the body.
The males survive the females, they concur
had I known prior how to be well
would I do anything different ?
Dear Home -
It's never too late.
I'm stuck with you now
but this time
I will bring you change
from within.
I'd like to hear your thoughts on the subject.
