This time last week I was one thousand miles away basking in the heat of the Corsican sun enjoying a much longed for holiday. Today however although I’m back home and on much more familiar turf, mentally I’m in a very strange place. I suppose it’s only natural to feel a little deflated when you come back off holiday but I’m really struggling to lift my mood, it could be the lack of sunshine…or heat….or that illuminated salt water swimming pool I’d got just a little to used to.
Alternatively it could simply be due to the fact that even 2 years after my op my post craniotomy brain dictates more than ever whether or not I can focus enough to work. This week it’s been ‘or not’. With a brief break for Tuesday night’s Stitch & Bitch I’ve been in a ‘pre migraine’ state since Monday morning which has made me touchy, anxious, achy and low. I’ve had to accept that the project I’d planned to knit on holiday just didn’t get done …..and you know what, that doesn’t matter. Instead I’m going to let myself off the spinning classes I didn’t do this week and allow my brain to do what it needs to come back to ‘normal’.
Whatever that is.
I’m hoping the re-set will happen by Monday as I’ve got quite a lot of knitting and writing to do. In the meantime I’ll chug along with the sock I’m knitting and catch up on some good drama on the iPlayer. Just as well it’s Slow Fashion October.
Sorry for the whinge hope your week’s been better
It’s been a stressful couple of weeks.. first the fridge/ freezer gave up the ghost within a whiff of the builders arriving to start the kitchen renovation and then the full on days and nights of knitting up my denim design. Life really is back to normal. It’s now nine and a half months since my craniotomy and I’m still incredibly grateful that life is so normal and that this is all I have to worry about. Those little ‘problems’ are easily resolved; we have a new fridge/freezer (it’s amazing how keeping the milk in a cool box for a week makes you appreciate modern appliances) and the beautifully finished garment has been carefully wrapped and dispatched.
Last Monday I dipped my toe back into serious waters with a visit to see my neurosurgeon for my second post op check up. It’s more than a little bizarre that I’ve met him only four times and yet he knows my brain more intimately than I do. The fantastic news is that the MRI scan that I had before Christmas shows no sign of tumours (or lesions as he refers to them) and although he can’t give me any answers as to why I still suffer from migraines and occasional dizziness he’s happy with the scan results and won’t need to see me until next year. I may have an awful memory and occasional migraines but I’m truly grateful that he’s given me the ‘all clear’ and whilst I’ve been sweating the seemingly small stuff I have to remember that this is what really, really matters.
Pre op MRI showing the larger brain squatter (white mass in tpp right)
Post op MRI showing all clear
(The pre op MRI is on the left -the white mass in the top right is the larger tumour and the post op MRI is on the right showing all clear).
Thank you to everyone who has supported me over the last 9 months. Have a fantastic day
I know we often say this but the last 6 months have literally whizzed past. It now seems a little surreal that I had a walnut sized tumour removed from the left side of my brain (and it’s smaller sibling removed from the right side). Now that life is calmer and we’re coming out the other side I have to admit to being just a little disappointed that the scar isn’t a bit more “Nightmare Before Christmas” or generally more Tim Burtonesque. After all, my poor head has been through hell to get rid of the two squatters and all I physically have to show for it is the smoothest and subtlest of scars. Yes it’s long, running ear to ear over my head like the palest ghost of a slightly bizarre Alice band and don’t get me wrong it’s wonderfully neat (credit where it’s due Mr Norris). I’m truly, truly grateful that it isn’t keloid thanks to Aromatherapy Associates’ Intensive Skin Treatment oil and the many hours massaging it has helped it to heal beautifully – thank you so much darling Katie Light for introducing me to it . But I still have ‘those’ moments – well it is still early days – when my brain reverts back to being ‘wonky’ or I become ‘unfiltered’ saying something I shouldn’t. (My sister will no doubt read this and say ‘no change there then’). A couple of months ago I could point at my battered head and be guaranteed a pass but 6 months down the line that move gets me NOTHING! Because life is re-adjusting to another ‘new normal’ my friends now tell me I can no longer use it as an excuse. How quickly they forget! And you know what? I love them for it.
So a couple of days ago I took my first unaccompanied trip into London to see the Georgia O’Keefe exhibition at Tate Modern with my very, very good friend Wendy. After meeting her at Southwark tube ( I wasn’t sure I could remember the way to TM from the station – and I was right) we booked 2 for 1 tickets for the 3.30pm show. I’m not a fan of queueing to read info at galleries and the rooms were absolutely mobbed but it was definitely worth it. If the mention of her work makes you think of phallic symbols and snigger at the thought of all those ‘lady gardens’ you should really see the show. It provides great insight into the times in which she lived and worked, her creative and personal relationship with Alfred Stieglitz for whom she was both muse and wife and introduced you to subject matter beyond the iconic flowers including her time spent living in New York painting cityscapes, her skull paintings and the later abstract skyscapes inspired by the plane journeys she took in her later years.
I remember having a calendar of her work as a textile student but none of the images ever conveyed either the scale of her work or the wonderful depth of colour. You need to stand in front of her work to really, really appreciate them and once you do any printed catalogue looks flat, pale and boring by comparison. (Certainly the case with the show’s catalogue – which is why I didn’t buy one). I always thought of myself as a fan of her work and back in my art college days she was generally referred to as ‘the one who did the fanny paintings’. She didn’t however take kindly to comments that referred to her work as having sexual connotations saying:
“Nobody sees a flower – really – it is so small – we haven’t time – and to see takes time… So I said to myself – I’ll paint what I see – what the flower is to me, but I’ll paint it big and they will be surprised into taking time to look at it – I will make even busy New Yorkers take time to see what I see of flowers…Well – I made you take time to look…and when you took time…you hung all your own associations with flowers on my flower and you write about my flower as if I think and see what you think and see of the flower – and I don’t”.
This woman really was a force to be reckoned with and many of the photographs in the exhibition taken by Stieglitz show her as a strong figure who stuck to her creative principles, basically stuck two fingers up at anyone who read sexuality into her paintings.
As someone now coming to terms with my more ‘unfiltered’ days I admire both her attitude and her work and once I read her words I saw them only as rich, beautiful, detailed, abstract, exotic but certainly not erotic. 6 months on from my op I’m doing a lot more stopping, looking and taking time to appreciate the beauty of small things.
If you’re in or around London it’s more than worth a visit but get there quickly. Georgia O’Keefe runs at Tate Modern until Monday 31st October.