You can borrow all the flour you want but you have to bake your own bread. ~ unknown

So, it has been a while since I posted. I have been up to my ears in it to say the least! As you know, when last I blogged, I was about to have surgery - a mastectomy with immediate reconstruction using natural tissues. I was up for it, I was mentally prepared to lose the breast, to expect a certain amount of pain, immobility, but I knew I could deal with it. However, I was not prepared for what was to actually follow.

The day after the surgery, a second emergency surgery due to a hematoma that burst inside of me, causing me to lose too much blood, too fast.

The day after that, my partners heart failed, and he ended up in hospital for a total of 3 weeks, being tested every which way, in preparation for having the aortic valve replaced in his heart. He'd known he had a congenital defect in his heart. Doctors said that the stress of what I was going through, pushed him over the edge, and his heart failed. Luckily, he was able to get to the hospital early enough, and they were able to fix it with surgery after multiple tests.

Then just 3 weeks after my second surgery, the doctors said that the skin around the reconstructed breast was failing, and I might need yet another surgery, for skin grafts this time. We were in a wait and see mode. Sure enough, 2 weeks later, they booked the surgery, putting me back into hospital exactly 6 weeks after my fist surgery, for surgery number 3.

Through all of this, I have done my level best to focus on recovery, and to live as normal a life as may be possible. Naturally, I focused in on my painting. I had started a series of paintings before the surgeries that were to be in an exhibit called "Almost Edible". The idea behind the exhibit: evoke a sense of taste, or smell, or texture of food. Make the viewer look at the piece and think, "Mmmmm".

Here is a look at the pieces that were eventually accepted into the exhibit.

Inspired by Lindt

10" x12" Acrylic on canvas

Taste & Sensation

16" x 20" Acrylic on canvas

Champagne Dreams

12" x 16" Acrylic/mixed media on canvas

Brie Nice To Me

10" x 10" Acrylic on canvas

Party Time!

Plastic sculpture, now mounted on gold colored canvas Approximately 10" tall

Cookware Bouquet

Plastic sculpture, approximately 18 inches tall.

Here is a very short video walk around of it:

Food of the Gods

Sculpture: ceramic/mixed media approximately 24 inches tall

Here is a very short video walk around of it:

Lastly, there was another painting that was included in this exhibition, though not originally created for this specific exhibition.

Owed to My Father

11" x 14" Acrylic/mixed media on canvas

These pieces are all still on exhibit at George Brown College, in the Hospitality building, until the end of January, 2011. The paintings are available for sale on my Artfire site, as well as through the exhibit. You can see the original blog post about this piece here.

And, I will resume more regular posting now that I am over the hump, so to speak.

To send light into the darkness of men's hearts - such is the duty of the artist. ~ Schumann

Over the past couple of months, as I have been going through this whole ordeal of being diagnosed with breast cancer, and now approaching my surgery date on November 1st, one of the things that has been repeatedly said to me, is that people are surprised how positive my attitude is.

For the most part, I agree. Once I got over having heard that I have cancer, and got over the thought of losing a breast, the only real option, in my opinion, is to focus on what happens after. I refuse to live my life in misery because of this, and I do have that choice.

Do I have some fears about this? Sure. I am more afraid though of the actual surgery, than I am of dying of cancer. I am not even that afraid of pain after the surgery, though no one likes pain. Pain is temporary, as is the cancer. It's the actual surgery itself that scares me. My grandmother died on the table when I was 17 years old, and even though I know intellectually that they were operating on her heart, whereas they won't be going anywhere near my life dependant systems, I have that fear. Irrational, I know.

Once the surgery is over, I need to move on, and I need to live my life. I have prepared myself as best as I can, finding photos of post operative reconstructive surgeries, and reading about various patients' experiences. I have looked at the scars, I have cried, and then I have told myself that I can do this.

I have previously joked in this blog about how my paintings have had boobs showing up in them. Of course, I have had the surgery very much on my mind. Keeping my sense of humour has helped me keep things in perspective.

Somewhere along the line, when I was doing the found objects projects, I found some of those plastic egg containers that you can put toys or treats inside of, and once again I was thinking boobs.

I started a painting - one that was my way of saying goodbye to my breast. When my teacher saw it, he suggested a different approach, saying I didn't need to be quite so literal. He suggested "lots of feathers". So, I have done the art pieces both ways, because I really wanted to express this the way I originally saw it in my minds eye, but also thought that the other approach was worth trying as well.

Using the egg cups as breasts, but also as symbols of renewal, I gave them golden wings using gold leaf. 

With Golden Wings To Fly

16" x 20" Acrylic and plastic on stretched canvas

Next, I used found feathers from the lakeshore, and the remaining pink egg cups to create another way of saying it.

Thinking Beyond Pink

16" x 20" feathers and plastic on stretched canvas

It has been suggested to me that I should put myself in a place where I can be an example to other women going through this. To help them to have the same positive attitude that I have. I am not sure how I can do that, or even if I am the greatest of examples. I cannot choose their attitude for them. But I hope that maybe my work can show them at least one way of dealing with it. Maybe in this way, I can help send light into the darkness of someones heart, somehow, somewhere.