For Those That Are Interested

For those that are interested, this is what my right eye is seeing:

And this is what my left eye is seeing:

(I tried to get the two images to register on the same line, but I couldn't get the blog to understand what I wanted, so they're stacked!)

Anyway, you get the idea. Try looking out of the two very different views at once. No wonder my brain is a bit confused! I guess this should be "interesting" to me because I'm an artist and used to "seeing differently". Actually, it's a pain in the ass.

             



Death of a Favorite Coffee Cup

As if I haven't had enough foul luck. Bob and I were on our way to one of my many doctors visits and I absentmindedly set my coffee cup on the roof of the car and I think you can guess the rest. The worst part was that it smashed to its untimely death right at the end of our road where I cross to the dirt road. This necessitates my passing its pathetic shattered corpse every morning while walking Jules. (Or more honestly: while following the shape in front of me that I think are Bob and Jules as I'm still not seeing all that clearly).

So this morning, I picked up a large-ish shard to photograph and preserve as history. I really liked my Tony the Tiger "Hold that Tiger!" coffee cup. Rest in peace!

The Whole Grizzly Tale... Stop Me if You've Heard This Before

So what happens when you think you’re doing something good and you perform an action that should have a positive outcome? Chances are, something stupid happens and you have an ACCIDENT.

I had just such an unexpected occurrence last Sunday. Bob had tripped over a section of wire fencing that we were assembling to make a garden/dog fence (because it was lying on the ground) so I thought to prevent further possible injuries by rolling up said fence and moving it aside. Hahahahaha. The coiled fence sprang back and hit me full in the left eye.

I guess the initial best thing that can be said is that my right eye is my dominant one, so thank goodness for that! Bob rushed me to Waterbury hospital, where (again thanks goodness) they realized that my need for care was greater than their ability to provide and they transferred me to Yale New Haven hospital where a bunch of eye specialists were ready to jump to action.

And they did. I had emergency surgery to suture the great gaping hole I had created in my eye. I kept reminding everyone that I am an artist and that eyes are important but to me my eye is VERY VERY IMPORTANT. I needed ten stitches. (I have only once before had surgery- to remove my wisdom teeth waaaaaaaaay back when I was 11). We went home and fell into a very deep sleep.

The next day, I had a follow up visit, all looked good and they were already telling me that I could return to work and drive. Just take it easy, no heavy lifting but I’d be okay. And the prognosis was great: no talk of loosing my eye or loosing my eye sight permanently, in fact I was told I might have better vision as they were going to have to insert a artificial lens in my eye. This was to be several months off. (Of course, I’m wondering how I’m supposed to cope with/ adapt when I felt like I was looking through mayonnaise with light blotches in my left eye…)

But Tuesday night saw the left side of my face erupt into pain blossoms and I thought of three possibilities. Either I was having an allergic reaction to one of my (many) medications, or I had an infection in my eye or something totally (ironically) painful but unassociated (like a toothache) had decided that now was the time to explode.

It turns out (as far as I understand) a cataract that formed from the trauma to my eye was displacing fluid that then in turn pushed everything in my eye forward and it all expanded. Instant intense pain of a magnitude I cannot even begin to relate or comprehend. I spent from 8 in the morning until 1 in the afternoon at the doctor’s office, doubled over moaning as they gave me pills and drops and finally succeeded in reducing the pressure in my eye. I took codeine and fell into a profound sleep.

Because of this incident, they moved my second surgery up from a couple of months to Friday morning. That went well, and I now have some bionic lens that will outlast me (never need to worry about cataracts again… at least in that eye!).  I am not in pain, am anticipating being able to see (better) and am shuffling around in a one-contact lens in non-stereoscopic world, but I’m having righteous and bounteous dreams (more on that in another blog).

I do keep falling asleep and I suppose that part of this moribund state can be attributed to drugs, eye drops, pills, and my body recovering from an initial trauma and subsequent two surgeries under general anesthesia. (Again, I don’t really “do” medical stuff.)

I’m exhausted just telling this. I’m going to take a nap. Oh, and what have you been up to anyway?

Don't worry! That artist-made super hero eye patch is all mine! Yale New Haven doctors are off the hook on that one... but I did think I looked a little like a member of KISS!

Don't Try This At Home

Here I am ready to take a shower for the first time after my Great Eye Disaster  I won't go into all the grisly details, but suffice to to say that a brief but tragic encounter between my left eye and a piece of wire fencing made for a bad combination. I was actually ambulanced to Yale New Haven hospital for emergency eye surgery. Eight stitches to close a gaping hole torn in my lens... I will need a lens replacement surgery some two months from now. Oh and of course I essentially cannot see a f%$*ing thing with my left eye, except general movements and light. This really is awful beyond description!
So at least I'm clean (after that long delayed shower) and wearing my brand new eye patch, hoping that I look somewhat mysterious and dashing. But I feel like running around after everyone else and screaming, "Are you crazy? You're opening that box of oatmeal without eye protection??!?! Where are your safety goggles!" Let's hope this works out okay. It will cost a fortune and be a pretty circumscribed existence until
I get further treatment. They cannot, of course, guarantee that I'll ever have perfect vision (or even bad vision!). I am thinking of contacting Dale Chihuly and starting a club for one-eyed artists.

I'm not squinting in that picture- my eye (after trauma and surgery) was all purple and swollen shut. Today it's pink and red.

Artistic Blockage of the Worst Sort

I knew that moving was going to disrupt the artistic process of both Bob and myself but I had no idea just how monstrously! We spent so much time disassembling and boxing not only our house, but the contents of two studios (and those extensive gardens...) Then we camped out- sans studio space- in the dead of winter. Not to belabor the obvious, as laid out in excruciating detail in my previous blog postings, but moving is and has been hell. It also unseated a deep seated stability or sense of place so important to artists like us.
Some artists are paripatetic and seem to be able to create work on the fly. I hear about these artists, but perhaps they're like yetis or Big Foot- makes for a good story but they don't actually exist. I think a sense of place and a studio home base are essential ingredients for many artists.
So I'm kind of blocked. This has only occurred a few tragic times in my adult life. I realize with the deepest part of my being that this is a temporary blip in the bigger picture, but it sucks. The other day, I was feeling so strung out and melodramatic...
But I had a revelation or an epiphany, and I know that it probably seems obvious to anyone else, but we have to re-invent that sense of place here. So I got busy, not with emptying the thousandth box but with planting our garden. Quite literally for me, it's all about digging in the dirt and creating our environment.
I'm feeling so much better now; tired in that truly filthy, dirt under the fingernails, muscles aching from shovels impacting rocks way. But better.
By the way, that picture is of our main mixed border back at the old address. I guess we have a long way to go as that photo is of a garden that's been under cultivation for eighteen years! But I'm psyched,

What Is It? (Number Five)

We haven't played "What is it?" in quite some time, and that's not because we stopped locating mysteries around the house. On the contrary, household mysteries keep turning up or they quietly reassert themselves. Like todays puzzle: this curious double switch is right in the middle of the kitchen counter.

Periodically, I wonder what it does or more saliently, what it did as it is not connected or attached to any function in our house. It announces itself as a "Nutone" and it has a dial that has numbers which would signify a certain precise application.
Perhaps when we switch it from one position to another, a garage door miraculously opens in Peoria. Or the lights dim dramatically in a dining room in upstate New York. Anyone ever see anything like it?

Dogs and Gardens- Part 1 (Excavations Anyone?)

This bit of lunar terrain is compliments of Jules, our accomplished canine sub-contactor. He has so many uncategorizable talents!
Jules discovered the tip of a rock. That led to some serious digging and a volley of rapturous barking: either he was attempting to shout the rock out of the ground, or he was singing some dog rah-rah cheerleading song to bouy his spirits during the hard work of destroying our back yard. He's been pretty mum about his rationale. In any event he managed to isolate this particular stone and he now guards it as if it is very special indeed. And this is not the first or only stone to so capture his affections. Ah! The inscrutability of the dog mind!
Bob has come up with a clever plan that we will test out today. We are going to have Jules focus on digging where we're clearing sods and planning a perennial border. (This is chain-gang type labor as documented in a previous posting as the rock population is legendary). Jules should be in seventh heaven and we'll have double dug beds... or we'll experiment with that low maintainence lunar theme when the blasted yard is laid to waste.