Good to be back...

in my studio again! The original is available directly from my website: www.mainenaturepaintings.com or prints from link below. Enjoy, L

Small Friends

I am always amazed these fragile little birds can survive a long, bitter cold Maine winter. I guess they are stronger than they appear. I am now 1 year past diagnosis and surgery for breast cancer, and 6 months past chemotherapy treatments. I am finding that I, too, am stronger than I thought, although I have looked and felt pretty fragile at times this past year. Facing metastasis, however, I know my life remains as tenuous as my little friends here. Though the struggle continues, I see each day as a gift, and look forward to warmer, brighter days ahead.

Christmas Tree Farm

Winter Day in Black and White

I haven't been in my studio in months. Side-effects of chemo have been completely distracting. And I'm waiting to hear results of most recent biopsy. So you can imagine how happy I was to find a little window of opportunity when I felt well enough and coherent enough to paint! This palette knife painting portrays the emotion of a winter day. The original is available.

Surviving Breast Cancer

This picture was taken in October. I look great, all things considered! Alive is good. My hair is finally growing back. Before BC it was long dark brown to the middle of my back, but after surgery and chemotherapy these last 10 months, I'll happily settle for short, pure white fuzz! The problem with breast cancer is that recovery is not like getting over the flu. You don't just stop chemotherapy and are instantly well. I wish that were so, but it's not. Getting back into my studio without health and medical interuptions and distractions, and re-starting my online sales, especially during the recent economic events, is proving very difficult, adding tremendouly to a very precarious and stressful existance. Read my story on my Breast Cancer Journal. Contribute to my Recovery effort, if you can. Any amount is appreciated! Need a gift for someone this holiday season? Check out my website.

I recently went with a new friend I met through the American Cancer Society to Camp Fair Haven in Brooks, Maine. It was a lovely Fall day and we both enjoyed this quiet, secluded spot on a gorgeous lake deep in the woods of mid-coast Maine. If anyone needs a sunny spot on a rock to meditate on, this is it. The original is available on my website, and I have made this watercolor painting available as a print.

www.mainenaturepaintings.com

PTSD?

Surviving #2

Post Traumatic Stress Disorder?!!

As a "Breast Cancer Survivor", I have actually heard people refer to me as brave or courageous, inspirational even! Most days I don't feel that way at all, and some days I'm just lost. Too often it seems any little thing can erode my confidence. For instance, this morning I walked past the bathroom closet, the door ajar. From the corner of my eye I saw a box of hygienic face masks. Instantly, the horror of chemotherapy treatment came upon me. I remembered white blood counts so low I could not risk going into a crowded grocery store or waiting in a line at the Post Office, forget about a friendly hug from a friend, neighbor, or worse, any small children! On certain days, I couldn't even work alone in my garden without a mask to protect me from airborne spores and germy dirt! And perhaps the worse place I had to be on a daily basis for a few months while on chemo was a crowded blood lab waiting room where everyone in there was sick with something! That box of earlobe masks sitting there on the shelf in my bathroom closet just totally decomposed me. I did this digital portrait as a way to help me process the intense feelings of raw fear I was experiencing. And how fortunate a friend showed up just as I was finishing up to pull me out of the past and back to the present! Thinking about it now, several hours later, I suppose since it's true I never showed or even felt any fear while going through chemotherapy, it must have been there on some level because it's showing up now, triggered by a stupid box of masks on a shelf.

See My Breast Cancer Journal