Transformation: Seeking Peace
Writing
Tree of Life
“It is a tree of life to them that hold it fast, it’s supporters are happy, and all its paths are peace.”
- a proverb from the old Testament.
From the time I was very young, I have felt spiritually connected to trees. I enjoyed singing this beautiful proverb a cappella at my synagogue when I was 11.
At the turn of the century, fast forward to my mid 40s, I felt an inner anxiety. Would I follow my mom’s life track and also get cancer? Sure enough, a mammogram indicated that I could have breast cancer and that I would need to have a surgical biopsy. I was petrified. Taking a deep breath, I used my artistic nature to find a way to cope with the uncertainty. What came to me were sketches of one of my favorite trees at point Pinole, where Michael and I have been walking for over 30 years. The strong intoxicating Eucalyptus scent, The bark patches of striated earthy colors, winding limbs climbing To the sky, and curled leaves twirling in the wind -these images and scents comforted me. As I patiently waited for the biopsy report I worked through this anxiety in three panels. I indicated the long, painful path to the answer in the first two panels, and these panels eventually gave way to a much shorter path after I learned that the biopsy was negative, a road leading to a tree gleaming in the sunlight.
Tranquil Mind
The answer to my cancer question was 'no' for quite a while, but this answer didn’t mitigate my anxiety level. Building continually, for reasons unbeknownst to me, the anxiety blossomed into breast cancer when I turned 52. Through a long journey of inquiry and self discovery, I used painting once again to find a path to peace. I used conventional and unconventional methods to heal, and foremost, I got to the heart of my anxiety. I was on the healing path, though upset about not speaking up for myself enough, claiming my true self in a family having many strong opinions about how I should be. I Painted tranquil mind, a three panel work which started as a stormy, violent sea, moving to a more relaxed second panel and eventually dropping into a wash of great Calm. As this was on a large scale, each panel 48”x 36”, The impact on me was great. It led to more paintings, each one uncovering and discovering my hidden agendas that had brought on cancer.
No More Prisons
I went to Tyler Texas for alternative healing to breast cancer. After long days at the clinic, where I engaged in talk therapy, and a host of alternative treatments, I walked through a beautiful park almost every day. While meditating in this way, images came to me. Once I returned home, I started a five panel piece called No More Prisons. Knowing I had much more to contribute in the world, I needed to get beyond my own prisons. and paint the prison I had made for myself. Acknowledging the metaphorical bars I stood behind, I could visualize moving past them. The image of a prison made out of thorny Rose stems entered my consciousness. As a rosebud, my light was small at first. However, I grew, emanating light through the prison walls until I had flowered fully, becoming all that I wanted to be. The first panel was the hardest to paint as it represented my fears of dying of cancer and sharing with the larger world my Jewish heritage. Ultimately, this painting represents not only my own prisons melting, but my views on the prison system that often unjustly holds too many people who don’t deserve to be behind bars.
I worked on it for about five months. I thought I would never move past the first panel, as there were so many thorns on the prison bars. But alas, even within the darkness, I found pairs of thorns that comforted each other in a tickle, a kiss, or a hug in the way made contact. The small white bud would find its way through these bars, with a force so powerful that even muscle power was not strong enough to melt the iron impediments. Only light and love could do that. As I progressed, one panel at a time, I moved to become the flower I had wanted to be. And even at the end of the painting, I still have much blossoming to do.
Eternal Faith
In my quest for peace of mind, I realized the importance of understanding my heritage and its relationship to the broader world. For centuries, Jews have not been treated well and have endured continual oppression. Even the greatest scholars can’t explain the exact reason why Jewish people have been persecuted so much. As a people, most of us are smart, studious, compassionate, family-oriented and persevering in what we set out to do. We want to make the world a better place. However, the cycle of interning others continues, both Jews being interned, and Jews interning others. This cycle is based on fear of “ other. “
Ultimately, we are all alike in that we need self-care, a dwelling to live under, the love of family and friends and a higher power to believe in. We just use different paths to get there. There is no right way. In my painting, eternal faith, I find a way to marry ego to the soul. Without this marriage within, a person is unable to understand the "other." The ego alone believes that the ego is only way, And the soul is so passionate about spirituality that it can’t concern itself with the practicalities of every day life .The marriage of the two tempers both. Ego is ruled by the soul, and therefore steps back to think more clearly, and thoughtfully and the soul is ruled by the ego, remembering to bring spiritual matters into every day life.
The German holocaust is the theme of this painting, emphasizing in the first panel the label of the Jewish star forced upon Jewish people by Hitler in many countries besides Germany. The talit, a Jewish prayer shawl, is torn in the first panel, and as we move from panel 1 to 3, the talit turns into barbed wire, which gives way to an olive branch, the ultimate symbol of peace. The second panel affirms with a large star of David how proud I am to be of Jewish heritage. In the last panel, I give up my ownership of Judaism being the best and only way of showing faith. This panel champions four cultural backgrounds through four languages: English German Hebrew and Arabic. In essence, we all need to breathe deeply into our soul and find compassion for each other, respecting our individual decisions regarding our spiritual paths.
A Woman's Flight
I walked onto the metro in Paris. Like oil that spills into water we were all trying to find comfort, jostling for the right angle against a metal rod or wall of steel, and for those who were quick on their feet, a lightly padded seat. I was one of the lucky ones. As I sat comfortably I looked upward , and in my field of vision were two friends engaging in fluid conversation. One of them was like a quintessential rose. She looked like she had been raised with all the care of just the right soil, the warmth of soothing, nurturing sunshine to invite her growth and delicate aroma. Her skin was flawless and her hair the color of light honey. "She must be the model for my painting," I mused. Without thinking, I interrupted my reverie,“ Excuse moi,” my eyes pointing directly to this beautiful flower. I gestured to my camera, using my imploring eyes to ask if she would mind if I took some photos of her. This newly formed rose of about 17 years old curled up on her self, allowing her eyes to settle on me after a few seconds of shyly scanning the scuffed up floor. She reluctantly nodded, and then continued to talk with her friend. I realize later that I had been very insensitive to her lovely, though not as comely companion.
Back at my studio in Berkeley, I poured over the photos of the young woman. She wore a combination of innocence and reticence that I had harbored at one time. She looked like she wanted to fly, but wasn’t sure how to yet. Her petals felt the breeze but had not seen and could not understand much of the world at large.
Over the course of many years, four to be precise, I painted the five panels, 36 x 48“ each, of my own story, using the face of this young woman as a starting point. Ultimately I entitled the painting A Woman’s Flight, spanning a woman’s journey from young and innocent to older and wiser.
As I was growing up my world was very sheltered. As if an only child after my brother and sister left for college, my life was easy in many ways. To a fault, my parents made sure I had everything I needed and wanted. It was when I became aware of the real world after college, that it’s challenges smacked me in the face, like a flower being smacked in a rain storm. The tornado of real life caught me by surprise. Through the years I found my wonderful partner Michael and I shifted my life slowly, as though noticing and eventually discarding the hard pebbles caught in a colander of shifting sands. In my painting I struggled with the torrential moments that seemed to be ebbing and flowing. From the time I was a young woman, up until my early 50’s. I suffered from an inner angst that mushroomed into intense anxiety attacks. Only later did I learn that I was carrying within me the strong residue of past life traumas, including loosing my mom to cancer when I was 27 and feeling a resonance with my father’s traumatic childhood victimization by the German Holocaust.
I simply couldn’t finish the old woman in the painting. She didn’t look right. She didn’t feel right. She wasn’t happy and she wasn’t wise. Not being able to understand my full flight in the painting and in real life, I was told that I had cancer, even though something deep inside knew it was true before they gave me the news. After deep soul searching, and learning about a past life in which I lived with a fear of dying during the Holocaust, I eventually finished the painting. Because of this I embraced too much fear, still feeling like a victim, not putting my art out in public as much as I wanted to, not speaking my mind about what I really wanted in my life, and not really acknowledging my fears about being Jewish. Before I contracted cancer I couldn’t see myself growing old. My fears were going to kill me. Once I saw the exhibit of my fears through cancer, I could take a deep look at my childhood, my middle years, and my potential future as an older person. Only then could I finish the painting. And I did.
In this artwork I wanted to illustrate my ability to move out into the bigger world with mobility, action, and confidence. The first panel starts with a young woman representing myself, who is over protected from the outside world and not able to develop maturity and confidence in her own power. Although I had many wonderful enriching experiences growing up, I needed to find meaning in my life not simply because I wanted to make a living, but through deep connections with others and an understanding of psychology in the broader society. From panel one through five a woman is getting older and moving through hard times, eventually becoming an elder. The final panel exhibits a calm onlooker reflecting back on her life. She is young, ghost-like, gliding with a swan. The birds change with every panel, a parallel story of being imprisoned as a bas relief sculpture, learning to fly, falling from grace as life became challenging, and ultimately gliding on calming waters.
Now that I’m looking back the painting process , I can understand why I couldn’t finish this painting until after I moved through and beyond cancer. The fourth panel is about an elderly woman, and I was too afraid that I would never make it to that stage in life. I moved to a peaceful feeling within and a peaceful image showing that I had slayed my dragons and was ending my life in a very peaceful state. Once I felt clear about healing from cancer, I could finish the painting, having the confidence that I would live to a ripe old age. What really matters here is not that I do live until that age, but more that I feel I will.
Writing
Tree of Life
“It is a tree of life to them that hold it fast, it’s supporters are happy, and all its paths are peace.”
- a proverb from the old Testament.
From the time I was very young, I have felt spiritually connected to trees. I enjoyed singing this beautiful proverb a cappella at my synagogue when I was 11.
At the turn of the century, fast forward to my mid 40s, I felt an inner anxiety. Would I follow my mom’s life track and also get cancer? Sure enough, a mammogram indicated that I could have breast cancer and that I would need to have a surgical biopsy. I was petrified. Taking a deep breath, I used my artistic nature to find a way to cope with the uncertainty. What came to me were sketches of one of my favorite trees at point Pinole, where Michael and I have been walking for over 30 years. The strong intoxicating Eucalyptus scent, The bark patches of striated earthy colors, winding limbs climbing To the sky, and curled leaves twirling in the wind -these images and scents comforted me. As I patiently waited for the biopsy report I worked through this anxiety in three panels. I indicated the long, painful path to the answer in the first two panels, and these panels eventually gave way to a much shorter path after I learned that the biopsy was negative, a road leading to a tree gleaming in the sunlight.
Tranquil Mind
The answer to my cancer question was 'no' for quite a while, but this answer didn’t mitigate my anxiety level. Building continually, for reasons unbeknownst to me, the anxiety blossomed into breast cancer when I turned 52. Through a long journey of inquiry and self discovery, I used painting once again to find a path to peace. I used conventional and unconventional methods to heal, and foremost, I got to the heart of my anxiety. I was on the healing path, though upset about not speaking up for myself enough, claiming my true self in a family having many strong opinions about how I should be. I Painted tranquil mind, a three panel work which started as a stormy, violent sea, moving to a more relaxed second panel and eventually dropping into a wash of great Calm. As this was on a large scale, each panel 48”x 36”, The impact on me was great. It led to more paintings, each one uncovering and discovering my hidden agendas that had brought on cancer.
No More Prisons
I went to Tyler Texas for alternative healing to breast cancer. After long days at the clinic, where I engaged in talk therapy, and a host of alternative treatments, I walked through a beautiful park almost every day. While meditating in this way, images came to me. Once I returned home, I started a five panel piece called No More Prisons. Knowing I had much more to contribute in the world, I needed to get beyond my own prisons. and paint the prison I had made for myself. Acknowledging the metaphorical bars I stood behind, I could visualize moving past them. The image of a prison made out of thorny Rose stems entered my consciousness. As a rosebud, my light was small at first. However, I grew, emanating light through the prison walls until I had flowered fully, becoming all that I wanted to be. The first panel was the hardest to paint as it represented my fears of dying of cancer and sharing with the larger world my Jewish heritage. Ultimately, this painting represents not only my own prisons melting, but my views on the prison system that often unjustly holds too many people who don’t deserve to be behind bars.
I worked on it for about five months. I thought I would never move past the first panel, as there were so many thorns on the prison bars. But alas, even within the darkness, I found pairs of thorns that comforted each other in a tickle, a kiss, or a hug in the way made contact. The small white bud would find its way through these bars, with a force so powerful that even muscle power was not strong enough to melt the iron impediments. Only light and love could do that. As I progressed, one panel at a time, I moved to become the flower I had wanted to be. And even at the end of the painting, I still have much blossoming to do.
Eternal Faith
In my quest for peace of mind, I realized the importance of understanding my heritage and its relationship to the broader world. For centuries, Jews have not been treated well and have endured continual oppression. Even the greatest scholars can’t explain the exact reason why Jewish people have been persecuted so much. As a people, most of us are smart, studious, compassionate, family-oriented and persevering in what we set out to do. We want to make the world a better place. However, the cycle of interning others continues, both Jews being interned, and Jews interning others. This cycle is based on fear of “ other. “
Ultimately, we are all alike in that we need self-care, a dwelling to live under, the love of family and friends and a higher power to believe in. We just use different paths to get there. There is no right way. In my painting, eternal faith, I find a way to marry ego to the soul. Without this marriage within, a person is unable to understand the "other." The ego alone believes that the ego is only way, And the soul is so passionate about spirituality that it can’t concern itself with the practicalities of every day life .The marriage of the two tempers both. Ego is ruled by the soul, and therefore steps back to think more clearly, and thoughtfully and the soul is ruled by the ego, remembering to bring spiritual matters into every day life.
The German holocaust is the theme of this painting, emphasizing in the first panel the label of the Jewish star forced upon Jewish people by Hitler in many countries besides Germany. The talit, a Jewish prayer shawl, is torn in the first panel, and as we move from panel 1 to 3, the talit turns into barbed wire, which gives way to an olive branch, the ultimate symbol of peace. The second panel affirms with a large star of David how proud I am to be of Jewish heritage. In the last panel, I give up my ownership of Judaism being the best and only way of showing faith. This panel champions four cultural backgrounds through four languages: English German Hebrew and Arabic. In essence, we all need to breathe deeply into our soul and find compassion for each other, respecting our individual decisions regarding our spiritual paths.
A Woman's Flight
I walked onto the metro in Paris. Like oil that spills into water we were all trying to find comfort, jostling for the right angle against a metal rod or wall of steel, and for those who were quick on their feet, a lightly padded seat. I was one of the lucky ones. As I sat comfortably I looked upward , and in my field of vision were two friends engaging in fluid conversation. One of them was like a quintessential rose. She looked like she had been raised with all the care of just the right soil, the warmth of soothing, nurturing sunshine to invite her growth and delicate aroma. Her skin was flawless and her hair the color of light honey. "She must be the model for my painting," I mused. Without thinking, I interrupted my reverie,“ Excuse moi,” my eyes pointing directly to this beautiful flower. I gestured to my camera, using my imploring eyes to ask if she would mind if I took some photos of her. This newly formed rose of about 17 years old curled up on her self, allowing her eyes to settle on me after a few seconds of shyly scanning the scuffed up floor. She reluctantly nodded, and then continued to talk with her friend. I realize later that I had been very insensitive to her lovely, though not as comely companion.
Back at my studio in Berkeley, I poured over the photos of the young woman. She wore a combination of innocence and reticence that I had harbored at one time. She looked like she wanted to fly, but wasn’t sure how to yet. Her petals felt the breeze but had not seen and could not understand much of the world at large.
Over the course of many years, four to be precise, I painted the five panels, 36 x 48“ each, of my own story, using the face of this young woman as a starting point. Ultimately I entitled the painting A Woman’s Flight, spanning a woman’s journey from young and innocent to older and wiser.
As I was growing up my world was very sheltered. As if an only child after my brother and sister left for college, my life was easy in many ways. To a fault, my parents made sure I had everything I needed and wanted. It was when I became aware of the real world after college, that it’s challenges smacked me in the face, like a flower being smacked in a rain storm. The tornado of real life caught me by surprise. Through the years I found my wonderful partner Michael and I shifted my life slowly, as though noticing and eventually discarding the hard pebbles caught in a colander of shifting sands. In my painting I struggled with the torrential moments that seemed to be ebbing and flowing. From the time I was a young woman, up until my early 50’s. I suffered from an inner angst that mushroomed into intense anxiety attacks. Only later did I learn that I was carrying within me the strong residue of past life traumas, including loosing my mom to cancer when I was 27 and feeling a resonance with my father’s traumatic childhood victimization by the German Holocaust.
I simply couldn’t finish the old woman in the painting. She didn’t look right. She didn’t feel right. She wasn’t happy and she wasn’t wise. Not being able to understand my full flight in the painting and in real life, I was told that I had cancer, even though something deep inside knew it was true before they gave me the news. After deep soul searching, and learning about a past life in which I lived with a fear of dying during the Holocaust, I eventually finished the painting. Because of this I embraced too much fear, still feeling like a victim, not putting my art out in public as much as I wanted to, not speaking my mind about what I really wanted in my life, and not really acknowledging my fears about being Jewish. Before I contracted cancer I couldn’t see myself growing old. My fears were going to kill me. Once I saw the exhibit of my fears through cancer, I could take a deep look at my childhood, my middle years, and my potential future as an older person. Only then could I finish the painting. And I did.
In this artwork I wanted to illustrate my ability to move out into the bigger world with mobility, action, and confidence. The first panel starts with a young woman representing myself, who is over protected from the outside world and not able to develop maturity and confidence in her own power. Although I had many wonderful enriching experiences growing up, I needed to find meaning in my life not simply because I wanted to make a living, but through deep connections with others and an understanding of psychology in the broader society. From panel one through five a woman is getting older and moving through hard times, eventually becoming an elder. The final panel exhibits a calm onlooker reflecting back on her life. She is young, ghost-like, gliding with a swan. The birds change with every panel, a parallel story of being imprisoned as a bas relief sculpture, learning to fly, falling from grace as life became challenging, and ultimately gliding on calming waters.
Now that I’m looking back the painting process , I can understand why I couldn’t finish this painting until after I moved through and beyond cancer. The fourth panel is about an elderly woman, and I was too afraid that I would never make it to that stage in life. I moved to a peaceful feeling within and a peaceful image showing that I had slayed my dragons and was ending my life in a very peaceful state. Once I felt clear about healing from cancer, I could finish the painting, having the confidence that I would live to a ripe old age. What really matters here is not that I do live until that age, but more that I feel I will.