The Reset Button

Aleathia says:

I had the pleasure of camping with my friend Annette this week. She is a wonderful woman who brings out some great qualities in me and helps me to stay true to the important things in my life like yoga, meditation, a good diet, tea, and being aware of the world around me. Earlier in the summer we took a road trip together...13 hours on the road each way and not once did we want to kill each other. That is a good traveling partner.

Life has been stressful in the last few months and the both of us are settling into defining how we want to live life right now and learning what our dreams hold for the future. On a whim I had asked her if she wanted to go camping for a few days and she was excited to. Neither of us had camped in a long time and a nature reset was just what we needed.

Annette is a raw vegan. I am a swarthy meat eater. We get along because we don't make it political. It is just life choices. I decided that this trip I would eat her diet for several reasons. I was having stomach trouble and eating raw meant that I didn't have to bring the usual 10 tubs of cooking gear to manage outdoor meal time. I was leery about whether or not I would feel like I was starving, but even with over 25 miles of walking and hiking, I wasn't weak or dizzy once. This really showed me what my body is made of and what it can do with different kinds of fuel.

Now this wasn't a teetotaler sort of trip. We drank rum like it was going out of style and indulged in some fancy s'mores. We had deep conversations as we walked and drank. We laughed by the fire and even had some tears. We looked at stars and waterfalls and everything green. What we did was get to know each other outside of work just a little better.

In the mornings, we did yoga by the waterfall. This was an other worldly experience to have such a connection with nature and do our individual practices. The sound of rushing water like a mantra that spoke to us in different ways.

We made a dedication to hike the entire gorge loop starting with the Gorge Trail  up to Lucifer Falls and back down on the Rim Trail which overlooks the lower falls. This hike was full of steep elevations and crazy sets of stairs. One false move and over the cliff you could go to a most certain sort of death. We met so many people along the way each of them in different stages of physical health and hiking ability. The great thing was that both Annette and I have the same hiking pace. What a rare happening to find a hiking partner on the first try!

When we reached the bridge to the Rim Trail I had doubts as to whether or not I wanted to climb more stairs to Lucifer Falls. I was getting tired, my hips were hurting, and I was feeling a little defeated. I said fuck it and up we went. If I didn't get to the top I would have regretted it greatly. Once up there we looked at the falls and had a snack. We rested for about 20 minutes and then I felt great again. We made our way down the other side of the gorge and what a glorious feeling to breech that last gate and know that you've accomplished something you had tried to do several times before but could not.

This camping trip was good for the soul. It truly was a reset button for me. It has given me new direction in my life and a more positive perspective about my future and all the dreams it holds. Always reach for the distance. It's so beautiful when you get there.

The Meaning of Love

Aleathia says:

The last few months have made me acutely aware of the need to redefine the meaning of love and the body people called family. My life has been spent seeking love without knowing really what that means to me. The love I received as a child had so many strings attached to it as well heavy influences from my environment and the social circles around me. I had no control over the love I received or how it was given. I had little control over the love I wanted to give because in order to give love, someone has to want to be on the other end of it.

Love is abstract at best. We "love" pizza. We "love" going to the beach. I "love" you. In our language and in our time, it feels as if love is just another verb without much weight or meaning. To understand this is pretty disappointing especially if it has been your life's work trying to find a love that feels true.  In my experience that initial chemistry between two people is so very intense and over time fades into what most people label as "comfortable" and then is further transformed to mean "love".  I have been in a series of committed relationships over the last 26 years in which this very scenario has played out. In the end of each of them, love is the farthest thing from what was felt or experienced.

My existential crisis comes from trying to understand why it is socially acceptable for the fading of that chemistry between two humans into banality that is then labeled "love" or "they are good together"? Why do people stay together when they no longer have that fire in their belly for the other? What makes us settle for less than what we want or desire out of a relationship? Are we truly honest with our inner selves about what love means to us or what it looks like?

I have been listening to a lot of music lately and my friend turned me on to Alt-j. A line from one of their songs has really weighed heavy on me:

"I want to love you in my own language"

How significant is that? I say this line to myself every day in an attempt to wrap my mind around its meaning. If I love someone in the language of my own heart, it may not be a language their heart understands. Maybe love is finding another person whose heart speaks the same language as yours. I feel like that chemistry should not fade. I should be able to look at someone I love and it fill me with a certain joy that is only attainable with love. I feel like my body and my skin should respond to their unique touch and that if the love is there the other person would be observant enough to feel and read the response of the other. I know, you are saying, she is a dreamer. I have been called much worse in my lifetime, but it is not such a tall order to want to feel electrified and comfortable at the same time. Love should make you feel free.

Having made this definition of love for myself I found another line that has touched me. I was recently watching Sense 8 and one of the characters said:

"Art is love made public"

This idea has transformed my approach to art...the way I look at it, the way I respond to it, the way I make it. So if art is love made public then art is the feeling of being free in the face of strangers. This idea is profound to me and it is the place that I want to be...living in a free and open way; loving in a way that sets my skin on fire and brings me a comfort that allows me the freedom to be my own true self.

These last few months after the fallout of my relationship has given me boundless opportunity to connect with new people, reconnect with old friends, and connect with the true nature of my being. My perspective of the world is changing. I am growing into my own after living a life meant for others. I am reaching. I am taking it all in. I am finding joy in places where none existed before. I am placing no boundaries or judgments on people and things. I have never felt more alive as I do right now.

Kava tea and Musings on Mara

Aleathia says:





Last night my good friend Annette asked Chloe and I to go to Ithaca to visit a kava tea bar. I had never really investigated this place though I had seen people come in and out of there on nights when I drove there to go to a concert on a nearby street. The kava tender was very knowledgeable and gave us some history on the drink as well as the properties and what it was used for.

This stuff tastes like bitter dirt even when mixed in chocolate almond milk.  We shared a large bowl which was about 3 coconut half shells worth. This was enough to feel the effects of it which make you very relaxed and euphoric.  It was like being on a cross of Xanax and Ecstacy while also making your tongue and lips numb. This worked for the show they had going called Harmonic Temple which was a sort of band/DJ trance hippie sort of sound with a light show.

There were the usual types of very energetic hippie dancers...some all over the place, some spastic, some doing dreaming moves on the periphery and a few others scattered about. This was very entertaining to watch and we all felt like we were in a nice place. After a few hours, Annette got up and started dancing and I soon followed as did Chloe. We danced for a few hours letting the beats take us over, letting loose so many things. It was an enjoyable time and something I had not done in years.

The morning after is another situation. Both Chloe and I, who tend to have very high anxiety personalities, felt sluggish and irritated and clumsy today where as Annette who has less anxiety had a fabulous day. My theory is that the contrast between natural state and kava root induced state was just too wide for me and my kiddo. I sort of enjoy the frenetic nature of my soul and today I have felt like a shell of a human. I am accomplishing all the things I set out to do but not with any fervor or desire. I feel like an automaton. I can't say that I will ever drink that again, but I will go and enjoy regular tea and some booty shaking.

Earlier in the week I was approached by a younger man who had some interest in getting together. It was an intense day of flirting which put me on top of the world and made me feel desired. I had not felt this way in a long time even in a committed relationship. I practically floated on air. We were supposed to hook up today, but it never happened. He never called. I never called him either. I feel like this was a test.

In Buddhism, there is a figure in the literature called Mara who is a demon that in the stories sends his most beautiful daughters to lure Siddhartha from his path. This young man, under most circumstances, would have tempted my pants off...literally. But because I had time between the flirting and the possible get together, I realized that fulfilling the temptation would come at physical and mental costs I was not willing to pay. I chose self worth over self pleasure. This is a turning point for me because most of my life I have felt like I had no worth and that the worth I did have was rooted in whether or not someone chose to have sex with me.

This is an interesting time in my life where I am open to the lessons being placed in front of me and able to truly make decisions about the direction of my life. I am speaking truth to myself. It is kind of refreshing.

Aleathia

Kidnapper's Art Book (deux) and Lynda Benglis

Aleathia says:

Kidnapper's Art Book x 2

"Welcome to the middle of nowhere: open 9-6"

"Sophisticated Metropolis"

Today's artist from the SF MOMA text is Lynda Benglis!

This time I simply put in the work "knot" and she was sent my way with a beautiful piece called "Lambda"

Kidnapper's Art Book, SoundCloud, and Charles Strong

Aleathia says:

Hello fair friends!  Today's art book was a long one for me. I usually have them done in fairly quick order, but I ended up spending almost 2 hours on this one. I feel like it is getting back to the style I was deep into before with several layers and more mixed media with markers, paint, and rubber stamping which lends it to be more original than simple collage. It is interesting to see the progression over the last few months and how distinctly each page depicts my day.

Kidnapper's Art Book. 7-11-2017. Impossible Deepest Night

Today's SF MOMA artist is Charles Strong who was an abstract expressionist who recently passed away. In the art generator I asked for "green" and they sent me a painting by him called "Hemlock".

Charles Strong, Hemlock, 1962

Enjoy your daily art bits. Learn something new whenever you can.

I am currently enjoying playing around with recording stories and poems that I have written. I am not sure how far it will go, but you can find me at Sound Cloud under Aleathia Drehmer.

Yay.

Aleathia

Kidnapper's Art Book and Gabriel Orozco

Aleathia:

Oh yeah, I have been doing something called the Kidnapper's Art Book since the end of May which has been helping me through my recent transition from being coupled to single but more importantly it has lead me back to something I love so much....collage. This is a daily project and I will start posting them here along with a new found artist (new to me).

Kidnapper's Art Book 7-10-2017 "Handled Properly" by Aleathia Drehmer

A FB friend of mine so kindly posted a cool thing that you can do through SF MOMA by sending them a text to 57251 with the words "send me___________" and you fill in the blank. It can be any reference, color, word, etc and they will pull you a painting generated by the request from their collection of over over 32,000 pieces.

I put in "collage" and they sent me Gabriel Orozco who not only does collage, but a wide variety of painting, photography, sculpture, and installation art which you can see some pieces at the SF MOMA site.  This is what they sent me:

Light at the End of the Tunnel

Aleathia says:

It's been 5 months since I posted to this blog and that seems to be the fate of blogs in general, doesn't it? Daily maintenance is difficult and ambitious for even the most fastidious person. So much has happened in my life in this time both good and bad.

This post is a little recap and then I am moving forward. In the past I would have shut this blog down and started a new one to signify big changes or a "new" life, but I see no need to burn the bridge. My hope for this blog is that someday all the folks that wanted to be a part of it will somehow find time to contribute or that new folks will inquire to do participate. Though we all experience this journey of life in different contexts and pull from it different meaning, we can't deny that we are on the journey together.

The recap:

April sucked.  Seriously sucked. I lost my grandmother suddenly, though she was 84, but previously in decent health. My boyfriend/best friend cheated on my just shy of our 6 year anniversary and the week he moved out, I had to put my dog down. My kid was diagnosed with Lupus. Did I mention April sucked?

I'm not going to draw out the details of this embittered break up because in the end it was the best thing that could have happened to us. It was painful and I worked very hard to not fall into a deep and encompassing depression that I had already spent 3 long years in. This betrayal came on the same day that I felt like I "woke up" from the long, aforementioned depression. I realized that I had been isolating myself from everyone after my mother's death. I had tried counseling and the woman I saw checked her watch the entire session and then asked "do you think you need to see me again?" She never probed for more information or gave me any suggestions and I fear this is because I am smart and articulate and therefore it is assumed that I will just figure it out. If anyone knows me well, they know it is very difficult for me to reach out and ask for help. This woman was a disgrace to therapy.

I have to give props to my friends who held me together in so many ways. To Vicki, Annette, and Stephanie for being my village when I never thought I was part of one; when I never thought I could love a group of women as much as I love them. They made sure I didn't fall down the dark well, they let me cry, they let me propose poor decisions, they fed me, they made me get out of the house and smell fresh air.  Most of all, they stood like pillars as I cycled through poor choices (hold my beer emotional moments) knowing that in the end I would arrive at the right decision. You ladies are the rock I anchor my boat to. I love you.

To Brian and Michelle who I should pay large sums of money because they were my therapists for the last few months giving me the male and female perspectives on life and keeping me to my moral convictions. They were there for me at any moment of the day and their love and advice has been key to my mental, emotional, and physical survival. I owe them a sincere debt of gratitude and lots of hugs. I have a real therapist now so they are off the hook.

The fallout of my life has shown me some wonderful things. I realized that I had not really started living in my house since my mother died a month after I bought it. It was filled with stuff, but it wasn't lived in like I cared to be here. The transformation has begun...art is going up, curtains being made, and the stamp of my personality starting to shine through. I learned that I love living alone and that I am more than capable of doing it. I have been given a new opportunity to rediscover my art, Buddhism, yoga, cooking, and travel. It isn't to say that my relationship kept me from these things, but I have found that when I am in a relationship I give up all the best parts of me...probably the parts they fall in love with and eventually it all goes sideways. I am not getting in another relationship until I understand why I do this to myself over and over again. I have done it for 26 years. There is a lesson I'm not learning.

I want to thank my darling daughter Chloe for suffering the task of watching me pace the house in anxiety and crying my face off in depression. Your shoulder was always there and I hated to use it because this burden wasn't yours to carry, but your love has given me strength to move along this road to find solutions and better times.

Ok, enough of this mushy shit.  We all have better things to do with our life, right?  On the forefront will be art and book reviews (I'm reading again), spiritual discovery, and any manner of creativity I can get my hands into. If you are reading this, thanks for sticking with my inconsistent and wholly depressing life for the last 3 years. You all get a merit badge, a hug, and a kiss.

Aleathia