birth & death, & everything in between

a grave marker in the beautiful Sierra Vista Cemetary in Taos, NM

"Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing,

there is a field.  I'll meet you there.

When the soul lies down in that grass,

the world is too full to talk about.

Ideas, language, even the phrase each other

doesn't make any sense."

Rumi

It's been an emotional few weeks.  Quite a bit of weeping.

Mitakuye Oyasin.  We are all related.  I do believe that beyond these bodies, we are all one, and the sentiment of this poem by Rumi resonates deeply with me - yet still, the reality of mortality can be hard to deal with.

Two weeks ago today, our dear sweet neighbor and landlord Mr. Bowyer passed away.  I truly miss him and wish that we had spent more time with him.  His presence was comforting, and pretty much every warm day that we had, he would be out in his wheelchair, either in his beautiful big backyard, or occasionally in the front driveway.  Adobe liked to take friends over to meet him, outside or in the house.  He had an open-door policy.  He was a real sweetheart, and I feel that he loved knowing there was a nice family here enjoying this house, which we do, so much.  I wish that we had had him over for dinner sometime, which just seemed like it would be tricky because of his big automatic wheelchair, with both entrances to the house being a few steps up, but I really wish now that we had made it happen, somehow.    
     My heart aches when I'm in the kitchen, where I'd always look out the window and see him across the yard getting fresh air and sunshine.  My heart aches any time I look over at the house, and think about the fact that he (his living body) is no longer there, and his grandson, who's just a couple years older than me, is now there alone, after all these years of living with him, and helping to care for him, and being his buddy.  But I know that he is still here, I feel his spirit around us, over the trees and the grass, and the houses, and I talk to him. 
     I am so thankful that I had the opportunity to pay last respects while there was still breath in his body.  I wept so much on the way to the hospital, going into the room, and when I was saying goodbye to him.  I wish that I had had a couple minutes alone with him, but the room was full of family members and his caretakers.  I wanted so much just to give him a little Reiki, and a kiss on the cheek.  I did whisper in his ear that we loved him and would miss him so much.  And even though he was unconscious, I know he heard me. 
     Yes, he was not a member of my blood family, but I love him, and this is my first experience really of 'losing' someone that I am used to seeing on a regular basis.  The only other family member who has passed on was my grandfather, and I loved him so much, but I hadn't seen him for ten years.  In both cases, there is regret, and things I wish I'd done when they were alive.
     My granddad's funeral is the only one I've been to.  Mr. Bowyer's is delayed until January, because it will be at Arlington Cemetary, and they are booked up.  My granddad's viewing and funeral gave me great comfort & closure - I wept over him, and kissed him, and stroked his hair, and his Buddha earlobes, and talked to him, and told him how much I loved him.  He looked so small lying there, a shell of the big robust man I knew, so full of life, the man who threw great parties on the holidays for his family, who would sing, and tell stories, and enlist me and my cousins to perform for him, much in the way he did with my mother and her sister apparently.

This morning, I am attending another funeral.  Two days ago, my dance teacher (from age 7 to 18), Ms. Sparks, passed on.  More regrets.  I have been talking for years about going to visit her, right here in Arlington, and never did.  I'm so thankful though for the many great memories that I have of her from my childhood, and for the focus she brought to my childhood, the influence she had on my life, and the training she gave me, which along with others, helped me to support myself by teaching dance for many of my adult years.  I did get a chance to thank her, many years ago, but I wish that I had gone and told her these things again, and told her how much I loved her.  Today, I will be doing alot more weeping, I'm sure.

I weep for the pain of our knowledge of our own mortality.
I weep for the pain that causes my father, and for the wish that he will find resolve with this before his time comes.
I weep for the pain and sorrow of loved ones who miss that special person they will see no more.
I weep for the pain of humanity.
I weep for the pain of mothers and fathers who have lost a child.
I weep for the pain of children who have lost their parents.
I weep for all of the suffering in the world.
I weep because change is so hard sometimes.
I weep with gratitude and joy for the gifts in my life, first and foremost being my family.
I weep with gratitude and awe for this amazing baby and my other children who have chosen me as their mother.
I weep with gratitude and joy for life.

good to be back

Yes, I'm back!  I have really missed writing here.  Why have I been gone so long?

Well, two reasons: I had a long, drawn-out pregnancy that I really wanted to enjoy, but it was so difficult (a more detailed story of that and the birth, which went fine in the end, later...) that I couldn't really focus on much other than myself, my body, my family, and the little life that was growing in me, more, and more, and more, and more!

laboring away with my enormous melon of a belly and my sweet supportive husband Atom

Tammi checking fetal heart tones

our boy the moment after he was born, when he still had no name...

Takoda Din was born early March 7, at home in a birth tub, almost a full month after his supposed 'due date', after a very long and arduous labor, weighing in at exactly 9.5 pounds.  It was awesome, exhausting, and so incredibly empowering!  My lovely, amazing, and very very patient midwife, Tammi McKinley, was at my house for over 36 hours and never once made me feel pressured in the least.  Atom kept telling me all the right things just when I needed to hear them, when I was totally exhausted and felt like I couldn't go on. 

Reason 2:  So, after I got that over and done with and rebirthed myself yet again, I came to Blogger, and things were all messed up!  They had changed things, and there were some weird bugs going on, and I was so frustrated!  I thought 'What is goin' on here?!  Am I going to have to switch everything over to Word Press?  Or to iWeb where I have much more control of everything visually?'  But, I guess Blogger was having some growing pains too.  But now, today I came here, and everything's more new and pretty fabulous so far!  So I posted something I'd had in draft for months (the Race to Nowhere post).  Thank goodness they got it together, because I really need to write.  And you can tell I'm really excited, because I usually abhor gratuitous use of explanation points!  :)

That's it for now, just wanted to fill you in, in case you've been wondering what happened to me, or happen to notice the huge gap in time here....

'Til next time.... I promise it won't be another 8 months.

And here he is just two weeks ago!  My beautiful angel, baby #3.

sitting up independently for the first time really, at our friend's house <3

making baby

Wow.  Talk about 'where does the time go?'... and two, almost three more months have flown right on by...

Where have I been?  The garden pic from my last post looks so cute and demure compared to the jungle that is out there right now.  Mother Nature truly is amazing.  Yes, there's been lots of growth going on, outside and in.  And that's where I've been.  Making baby.  I'm preggo with number three!  I'm still in a bit of shock hearing myself say this.  I always knew I would have two, and I guess occasionally I entertained the idea that I might have one more than that, if things were going really well.  After Phoenix was born, I was pretty adamant that there would be no more.  But Atom and Adobe both worked on me for awhile, and eventually, especially as Phoenix works his way out of babyhood, the idea of doing it just one more time started to sound appealing.  And here we are.  I have to admit, I'm a little overwhelmed at the prospect of being a mother of three - already, two is quite a job.  But, I figure that a woman who can manage three children has a different command of the world.

This was the roughest first trimester yet.  I have been exhausted.  And puky feeling.  And generally feeling like a zombie.  Luckily, I have not actually thrown up once.  Now I am starting to see the light of day, although I must admit I'm still pretty worthless if I don't have coffee in my system by about 2 in the afternoon.  I've been totally off my routine.  But I feel so fortunate to be able to just be, go with the flow, and allow myself all the extra rest my body has needed, and really experience what my body is going through.

Making a baby is alot of work!  It is truly amazing if you think about what is taking place in a woman's body during this time.  We all begin, every single one of us (our current physical selves, anyway), from a single cell!  Yes, we all learn about this at some point in biology, but how many times in your life have you really stopped to consider this fact and marvel at how miraculous that is? 

And then, the being grows, and grows, and grows.  As a mother, this is a truly surreal experience.  First there are the symptoms and first signs of change happening with your body.  Then, you start to feel little flutters of undeniable evidence that there is indeed another being coming alive inside of you.  The bump begins to grow, and grow, and grow.  Next thing you know, you have this 'alien life form' completely taking over your body.   I am especially fascinated by imagining (having experienced it twice now) what the displacement of all my organs looks like.  Because, believe me, they move.  Muscle memory is amazing.  I can feel all my womb's fellow internals preparing already, which is much earlier than with the other two.  The body remembers; it has been through this before and recognizes the current state of affairs, and it knows full well what is to come.  I can feel things shifting already. 

From Lennart Nilsson's A Child Is Born

Now, I'm at about 17 weeks.  This is probably a good estimate of what my baby looks like right about now.  I've been able to feel it move a few times.  It's quite exciting.  Last night, the kids and I were playing with the stethoscope to see if we could hear anything.  We heard some sounds, but weren't sure if they were the baby or my own body.

I feel so thankful to be able to take time to connect, with my own body, and with the little spirit who is taking form in me now.  And indeed, I feel thankful to do it one more time.  It is a truly miraculous experience, all of it, the pregnancy, the labor, the birth, and birthing of oneself as a mother, even when it's not the first time. 

When I was pregnant with Adobe, there was so much going on, I was so busy, that I don't feel like I really was able to take much time to connect with myself and the little baby inside of me.  I was finishing my Fine Arts degree at the Corcoran, teaching tap 6 days a week and running my performance company, dcArtistry:tap&drum - basically running non-stop like a chicken with my head cut off.  Plus, there was a lot of turmoil in my personal life.  With Phoenix, things were much more stable, and a bit calmer, but I still don't feel like I really took the time to connect with my self and my baby the way I could have.

Fortunately, with both of them, the labor and birth, despite being quite long, were awesome.  Home birth with both, over two weeks 'past due date' with both, over 24 hours labor with both after a month of practice contractions, and Phoenix was born in water.  All quite hard work, and exhausting, and I thoroughly enjoyed every minute of it.  I'm planning another water birth at home and drawing on some new inner resources this time.  It would be nice if things move along a little quicker this time.  You know what they say, "third time's a charm."

Another thing that will bring me a special connection this time around:  I've decided, with enthusiastic encouragement from local midwife Tammi McKinley, to offer childbirth classes specifically geared toward women/couples who plan to birth either at home or a birth center.  The classes will incorporate body-mind connection, visualization, art, spirituality, and ceremony/ritual, with influences from various resources, as well as my own research and experiences.  I'm developing my curriculum now, and plan to launch this fall.  (See boundlessbirth.com ).  I will continue to offer my photography services, as well as Reiki for women & babies, and individualized art sessions.  More on all that to come. 

extending into heavens

© artis mooney

This is a composite piece that began back in the 90s & has had its most recent incarnation last year as a gift for my husband Atom.  I made the drawing with him in mind when we were dating in our early twenties.  The poem was a separate stroke of inspiration, I believe when I still lived in New York, around the same time, created on an old typewriter.  At some point I combined them using a scanner & photoshop.  I performed the poem in Ireland as part of a show my friend Vivian conceived entitled "In Her Shoes".  Some parts of this were digitally painted, then this version was printed, and finished with watercolor & clear embossing fluid that is shiny and raised.  Enjoy.

there is no religion higher than truth

Aah, the New Year.  The first couple of months are always an interesting time of year for me as I move from the struggle to sort out what's meaningful from the holiday chaos/charades/consumerist whirlwind that everyone seems to find themselves sucked into, in one way or another, from the end of October into January.  If I'm in a cynical mood, 'the holidays' could be seen as one excuse after another to buy a bunch of crap that you or someone else doesn't really need, get drunk, eat too much, overindulge, and get caught up in a whirlwind of empty sentimentality & token phrases that don't actually mean anything.  But I can also enjoy certain aspects to a degree - I have to say, I do actually like some of the Christmas music, the decorations, pretty lights, the spirit of celebration; people tend to be a little more friendly to each other, and exchanging gifts can be fun, if you don't go overboard with it.  When I'm in right mind, I know that this time of year, winter time, is simply a time of rest & renewal, a time to appreciate the beauty & wonder of Mother Nature, to pull close the ones we love & tell them "Thank you.  Thank you for being a part of my life.  Thank you for being the beautiful person that you are.  Thank you for helping me to learn & grow in this adventure as a human being.  Thank you for loving me & receiving my love."
   Thus, my relationship with 'the holidays' is kind of like my relationship with organized religion.  It's just not in my make-up, my fabric as a human being.  I knew from kindergarten and first grade in a Catholic school in rural Indiana that it was not for me.  I felt a lack of questioning around me, incongruities, and I was suspicious of the Story of Creation (On the first day, God created.... On the second day...  and On the seventh day he rested....) that was being taught as a literal occurrence.  And, there was Real Life at that point in life - the reason we moved to Indiana.  My grandfather killed himself because my grandmother was becoming mysteriously ill; just when they were ready to settle into retirement in Florida where they had just bought a house, life took a drastic turn in another direction, and he just couldn't bear it.  Shortly afterward, they discovered that my grandmother had 16 brain tumors, from cancer that had started in her lungs and spread.  Within one year, she deteriorated to the state of infancy before my very eyes, and early one morning, she passed away, as I lay close by sleeping.  The relationships were all complicated emotionally - I could write a whole chapter on that alone - and honestly, only now, 30 years later, do I consider how those particular events must have shaped me.  It was the end of a husband & wife, the end of a father & son, the end of a son & his mother.  And I was just at the beginning.
   So, I found myself feeling total rejection of organized religion and Christianity in particular, for many years.  However, I was decidedly not atheist.  This led me to ask alot of questions, read different things, have lengthy conversations with my dad, my mom, and others, and to arrive at some interesting hypotheses.  At some point, perhaps when I was 18, 19, 20, I began to realize that perhaps I was missing something by my general dismissal of organized religion.  I began to read, alot - esoteric teachings especially, and embrace the good things many of the main religions have to offer.  I read up on certain religions, read some of the Bible and the Qu'ran, teachings of the Buddha, and delved deeper into what was at the heart of each of these teachings.  And a pattern emerged.  I began to feel that in many ways, they were each saying the same things - just in different languages.  Some of the details were different, and all, it seemed to me, were diluted or distorted in various ways from the original teachings, for a variety of reasons - probably first & foremost, no separation of church & state, of religion from law, for centuries upon centuries.  That's a topic for a whole 'nother post. 
   The point is, I realized that it's all about what speaks to you, what helps you find meaning in life, what helps you move forward when the burdens of life seem too much to bear.  So, if Jesus is your homeboy, that's great; if it's Allah that you praise, that's great; if it's the Buddha, Krishna, or whatever other name you choose for the Higher Power, or even if you are an existentialist, atheist, whatever, that's great, if it rings true for you.  We are all seeking balance in our lives, reacting to & interacting with our upbringings, our cultures, our surroundings, our peoples' stories, our own personal stories.... Where religion translates to war is when one people try to force their way on another people, when people try to control one another, try to say that their path is the only Path... We are a people of many languages and many ways, but we are family.
   "There is no religion higher than truth."  And there is no Truth higher than Love.  It is written on my soul.

why do it?

Why do I make art?  Why do I love photography so much?  What inspires me? 

This is a re-post on Inspiration from my photo site & blog that I wanted to share here...

My love affair with photography began when I was a child... with taking pictures of things that captured my eye or caught my breath - a ray of light, a shadow, an abandoned man-made object in a state of deterioration, anything in the process of decay, patterns in nature, textures, symbols of our mortality, metaphors for the passage of time, beautiful representations of life's wonder, and so on... When taking pictures of people, I always appreciated the beauty of the moment and enjoyed catching them just be-ing, doing whatever they were doing. I'd always cringe inside when I went to take a picture of someone and they'd stop, pose, & smile for the camera. It is the essence, not the facade, that interests me.

As an artist, my work deals loosely with the cycles of birth, life and death, which encompass human perceptions of time and space, ‘life story’, imagination, and consciousness of the world around us and the people with whom we interact. Every person lives a journey - some story that takes them from being born some time, some place, to dying some time, some place. In a sense, my work is an ongoing ingestion and digestion of everyday realities, of my experiences & memories - both recent & distant. It is the human experience and the wonder of the natural world that feeds my work more than anything else. As a fine artist, I express stories through visual metaphor. As a documentarian, it is the the moment, or collection of moments - seemingly frozen in time - which speaks volumes. It is my role to bear witness and express what I see through these eyes, in the form of beautiful photographic art.

I am all about bringing back keepsakes and family heirlooms. Especially in this digital age, when everyone has a point-&-shoot or a camera phone, I think printed photographs are really important. We all (myself included) have hundreds or even thousands of pictures that live in our computers, and we rarely see them other than as a flash on the screen from time to time. There is something to be said for an image that is tangible, right there in front of you, that you can linger upon, hold, & touch. I read recently that looking at photographs of loved ones can be a healing experience, especially if they are far away or no longer with you. No surprise there - how could a rush of love not be healing, even if it's mingled with pain? And even if it's someone you see every day - people change, all of us, and there is something really special about being able to remember someone just as they were at a certain moment in time. You see a photograph, and memories come flooding back.

As an artist, I share with you a bit of my story & the beauty I find in life. As a photographer, I help you tell your story. The way I see it, I don't capture the moment, I set it free, so that it can live on, for a lifetime, or more...

What makes you tick?  What inspires you?  What do you love about what you do?