i miss you, love you












 






















These are cyanotype prints / lumen prints on photosensitive paper (traditional darkroom paper). So essentially, there are two emulsions on the paper: silver gelatin on the paper itself, and cyanotype chemistry on top of that. 


I like using this technique because it's messy. it's not concerned with details. it's just about the process of seeing what develops. (insert stupid metaphor about life)


but honestly, these are very symbolic right now. It's june, and june always sneaks up on me like a fucking tsunami. i was listening to music tonight, just wanting so much to cry, to just wipe it all out and clear my mind and heart. i'm so cluttered right now. i'm tired of caring so much and being wrung out every day. i'm tired of fighting so much and being so angry all the time. 

i've had two friends completely back away from me in the past few weeks. it boils down to this: my capacity for bullshit is low. i have very firm boundaries with people, meaning that i cannot bear passive aggressive people and their sideways communication. i've ignored red flags with these two people for years, but because it felt good (secure) to have them as friends, i stuck around. i kept quiet when they ignored my limits. i have not had conflict with friends since high school, until the last couple months. so that's fun at my age. nothing like re-kindling that insecure little 10 year old girl who just wanted people to like her. anyway. fuck em

it's work: it's stupid. it's ridiculous to get so invested in work and the people i try to serve in my profession. but there's real tragedy in this life, and i often cross paths with people who are on their path to healing physically from some unthinkable medical trauma. i realize that this almost always re-ignites my own medical trauma, especially this time of year. 

i've been thinking a lot about writing about it. the event itself (the day my daughter died during birth). the moments that stick out in my mind like bookmarks in time, marking the awful realization that i was utterly powerless.  i think i need to do it. i'll warn you, so you don't have to read it if you don't want to. it's graphic and fucking awful and i've been asked (by non-family members) to not write about it....i know now that was their own attempt to not face it or talk about it. funny how people project their own fear onto our  immense unimaginable pain. i'm tired of carrying it for other people. so, i might write it out here. 

about 3 years ago i started EMDR (eye movement desensitization and reprocessing) therapy. i was desperate because the symptoms of PTSD were getting worse. i went through this therapy for six months, and it did help, but it was like running a marathon each time. so physically and emotionally exhausting. i think it works because of that. the process of going back over the trauma and desensitizing yourself to those awful moments in time just file you down from a jagged edge to a less jagged edge, a more exhausted version of yourself that has repeated the story so many times that it starts to feel more real. less detached and horrific. i must have repeated those bookmark moments at least 50 times in that six months. it doesn't sound like a lot but it is....50 emotional marathons. coming home with nothing left, unable to offer anything to anyone. unable to hold any pain or problem for anyone else. feeling so thin and fragile. 

anyway, things have gotten somewhat better since then, but it waxes and wanes. i honestly wish i could file it away and truly let it fade...not her, but the horrible moments that are stuck in my neural pathways.

so here i am. feeling like the wheel keeps turning, and i'm wrung out and needing some beauty in my life. it's what seems to light that spark and wake me back up. beauty in whatever form it presents itself. i'm seeking it everywhere. i'm trusting that i have learned to respond to life as it unfolds. 

ugh too heavy. 


i miss you guys. i know this is somewhat depressing and heavy, but i guess it's where i write my thoughts and try to let them go. i think about yall often and it's really something how much you have helped me develop my better traits over the years. xoxo

i'll tell you about the good things next time, the growth, because it's just that time of year right now. this is what's on my heart...it'll pass, gently, hopefully. 


Comments

Sorry for your pain. Even purloined letters arrive at their destination. They may not heal you completely, but they do allow much of the trapped traumatic energy to burn-off/ escape. And yes, repetition and persistence reflect the remaining neural energy surplus still trapped as "desire"
...and there is so much beauty in the prints you've posted. The intricacies are truly fascinating.

Thanks you for sharing.
I probably shouldn't reveal this (being a non-Christian) but your cyanotype prints also serve as a kind of Rorschach test... and when I look at them , I see angels, halos, and other heavenly objects. I learned recently that "repression" is a condition that exists only in the mind of the analyst.... and so I'm likely repressing things which I hide from myself and cannot admit.... which I suppose speaks to the advantages of occasionally free-associating.
...also, I see a wonderful tribute to the memory and love of a lost daughter.
Jen said…
Ah thank you, friend. I've wanted to write about it for years but feared it would just be too much. There's something powerful about writing/speaking about the moment itself in an openly public space. And even though there are only a few of us that visit this space, it still feels vulnerable.

Jen said…
I actually love that you shared your own interpretation of these prints. I feel the same way when I look at them and see hidden meaning. I think that's exactly why I love a loose process.... It gives symbolic results that are so much more meaningful than me predetermining the end result. Damn what a metaphor. Stop obsessing over every detail and trying to control the outcome so much.

See the beauty and meaning afterward...
See the beauty and meaning afterward..

I see the primary beauty in your impulse to create. The post-creation contemplative "meaning" is for me merely a "surplus" residue... :)

The Truth of the Impulse, on the contrary, is the agency of desire ["phallic you!"], the force that 'nudges/ sustains' desire [fellik fellik]. This 'active' (not pure negative) [causative] status of impulses in the sense of pre-symbolic 'libido' led Lacan to develop the myth of 'lamel'.
Jen said…
For once you attain the objet petit 'a, it changes into something else.... like Apollo's Daphne.



Did you attain objet petit a?
It's not possible... hunger, thirst, reproductive system status, body temperature, exhaustion are but a few of the "physical" aspects influencing "desire" and serving as an influence and underlying 'cause' or 'causes' of desire... and these too are "changeable" and ever-changing.
I think that the "stoic" approach is to minimize you arbitrary needs/ wants/ desires through philosophy, but as Diogenes the Cynic once lamented, "you can't just rub your belly and make hunger go away" (like you can make the sex desire go away via masturbation). He was known to masturbate in public and that was his response to criticism of it.
Jen said…
If only desire could be ended at will.
Jen said…
This comment has been removed by the author.
Jen said…
But then again...
The Truth of the Impulse, on the contrary, is the agency of desire


I believe this to be true.

And I would never want to do away with that creative impulse.

God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference.

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