Recently, I saw somewhere on social media, probably Instagram, a little saying about which I could completely relate — a new term, scanxiety. Scanxiety is the apprehensive uneasiness or nervousness in anticipation of an upcoming scan or test to determine cancer growth or remission. Let me tell you, scanxiety is real. To live in a body that has betrayed me once before, and to learn to trust it again is the only healthy way forward, but in order to do it well, I  really put in the work, a big slice of it being telehealth therapy sessions through the Flatwater Foundation. It’s been life changing. My therapist and I had been specifically preparing for me seeing the oncologist for my semi annual check-up, and having a mammogram and ultrasound. (I had found a small lump in my armpit.) All of my coping strategies were in place — prayer, mindfulness, tactile distraction (sticky tape), color awareness, deep breathing — and still my blood pressure was high (for me) at the appointment. I honestly thought that even with the high-for-me blood pressure that I was doing all right until my oncologist mentioned at the very end of the appointment that she was ordering bloodwork. My therapist and I hadn’t prepared for that! I started to freak out (internally) a little bit….ok, a lot, because because because it all reminds me of getting blood work done ad infinitum during chemo, and radiation, and before surgeries, and, it, well, I hadn’t considered the possibility of needing to have more bloodwork done. As a good Christian girl, I started audibly calling on the name of Jesus as the phlebotomist started prepping my arm. Also as a good Christian girl, I felt the need to tell the phlebotomist that I was indeed calling on the name of Jesus and not just swearing over and over. She said, “I know.” 

God bless her. 

It just so happens that it was one of the easiest blood draws of all time. (Thank you, Jesus, and thank you, best phlebotomist ever!) 

And, then I cried. 

Without further ado, it is a great relief to report that for my semi-annual oncology exam, I “passed” the mammogram, the ultrasound, the bloodwork. The lump I felt was a leftover surgical clip. Officially, I can declare there is no evidence of cancer in my body. Amen and amen. 

Three years ago, mere weeks before I was diagnosed with breast cancer, in a focused flurry of activity, I painted several paintings, but because of the stress of life at the time, never wrote about any of that work. Girl With Apple is one of those paintings. It’s 16″ x 16″ oil on board. 

Yesterday, I found out that Girl With Apple was accepted into Visual Art Alliance‘s 37th Juried Membership Exhibition by juror Shana Nys Dambrot. She is an art critic, curator, and author based in Downtown LA, and also the Arts Editor for LA Weekly. Out of 276 submissions, she selected 71 works for the show, so obviously I’m pleased to be in such good company. In the age of covid, this will be an online exhibit only, with the opening on Sunday, November 29th, at a to be determined time. I’ll be posting again with updates as the day approaches. 

FYI, there are still paintings available in my art fundraiser for breast cancer related expenses. For those of you who have already contributed, if you live in Houston, let’s make arrangements for pick up or delivery. For those of you who live out of town, I’ll start shipping soon. Please send me your address if I don’t have it already. 🙂

When I was diagnosed with breast cancer in the summer of 2017, my first action was to ask for prayer.  People I’ve never even met prayed for me. The shared burden that prayer encapsulates comforted me that whatever happened, good or bad, I was at peace with my life, content. I wrote about it here. After chemotherapy, radiation, and six surgeries in three years, I’m more than ready to be finished with everything. To that end, I’ve been working hard on a return to health which involves taking specific supplements, stretching, using specifically formulated creams and lotions for lymphedema, pneumatic compression an hour a day, occasional cold therapy, physical therapy, psychotherapy, reducing sugar intake, running or walking daily, and temporarily switching to a plant based diet to help reduce inflammation in my body. I’ve even started painting again, which is a big deal, because for the longest time I didn’t even have the energy, mental or physical, strength, or range of motion to stand at the easel and paint. It’s so rewarding to again find such delight and enjoyment in creating art. I love it!

Unfortunately, breast cancer comes with a price tag. Besides the obvious changes in how my body looks and functions, there is the added stress of paying medical bills. Perhaps seventeen years of acquired artistic skill could offer a win/win for those who might be inclined to share our burden once again. (?)

Art is what I would like to present and use as a fundraiser to raise money to cover our medical bills. To do this, I am offering original copies of my own work. 

So far, I’ve painted sixteen landscapes which were copied from one of my paintings that my parents own, and the sixteen paintings of oranges and apples are copied from  one of my paintings that some dear friends of ours own. These paintings are all 10″ x 10″ oil on board (plywood). There are twenty of the path with crepe myrtles painting, eleven of which are 10″x10″, and nine of which are 8″ x 10″. (Don’t remember who owns the original painting of this.) 

For a donation of $1 per square inch, you get an original piece of art created by yours truly (win) and the Amazing Reese and I are blessed by your donation which goes toward the deficit in our budget created by breast cancer related medical expenses (win). That means a 10″ x 10″ painting is a donation of $100 and an 8″ x 10″ painting is a donation of $80. (and so on — I have some 6″ x 8″ = $48, 5″ x 7″= $35, and 4″ x 6″ = $24 paintings in the works – coming soon.) 

To create an assembly line of paintings is not an original idea. In the fall of 1998, Rice Gallery brought artist Stephen Keene to Houston for a show/exhibit. Keene created an assembly line of plywood surfaces and would then paint the same stroke on each board over and over, until an entire work of the same painting was created multiple times. It was a fascinating exhibit, to this day, one of my favorite exhibits of all, not because it was “fine” art, but because it was accessible. 

Of special mention for this art fundraiser project is Art Supply on Almeda — they very generously donated almost half of my art replenishing supplies. I’m ever so grateful. 

Please feel free to share this post and/or another prayer on my behalf. Thank you!

One of my absolute favorite things about being alive is enjoying the profound beauty of otherwise ordinary moments. This was one of those moments for me — two little (2nd) cousins meeting for the first time. 

After a prolonged breast cancer induced hiatus from painting, it’s exciting to be back in the studio, and consequently, catching up on projects that have remained dormant for too many years. That my mind, body, and soul are all in agreement that painting is what I should be doing with my time these days is nothing short of a miracle — to me, at least.

This is another project that has been on hold for a few years. It was incredibly complicated. At first I painted it free hand, but finally had to get out a ruler to help with all of the straight lines of the porch railing.

It’s 18″ x 24″ oil on canvas.

The Next Move, 18″ x 27″, oil on wood

Full of gratitude for this second chance at life, and keenly aware of not wasting time, gifts, or talents, I’m working working working on projects that have been on the back burner for a while. This return to health (for me) includes standing at the easel for extended periods of time to paint. The Next Move is what I worked on last week.

Another thing that a return to health (for me) includes is running….and Daisy. The newest member of our family and great running partner is a sweet, spunky standard poodle named Daisy. She’s a fun little dog with almost endless energy and enthusiasm. Taking her on daily walks/runs is an integral part of my overall fitness, tremendously enhancing my physical, mental, and emotional health. God bless Daisy. (Instagram and twitter followers have already met Daisy.)

photo by Nash Baker

 This is me actively pursuing health. I can’t do everything, but I’m doing everything I can.

Trying to get back in the swing of things with regard to painting — working through my available art supplies and using old photos I’ve kept on hand (for years, in this case) for inspiration. This is a 9″ x 12″ oil on linen.

Girl and Bunny

Painting this was a happy struggle. The happy because I’m so grateful to be back in the art studio. The struggle because my body and soul ostensibly took the same beating from breast cancer, and I honestly wasn’t sure if either my body or soul could handle the work required to paint. (Both can!)

It is always a boost of confidence when a loved one likes the portrait of their loved one. I’m pleased to say that is the case here.

This is a 20″ x 24″ oil on linen.