Tag Archives: medical

The Journal of Dreams 01/27/2010

I started painting the white background on the custom canvases-64 square feet (4-4 foot canvases).  The brush I am using is 1″ and it is clear that I should have used a roller!  This is an absolutely huge painting that gives a lot of time to think about things as you work on it.  I like to keep tabs on what I think about when painting certain things.  Painting is therapy and the huge white canvas(es) are waiting for the artist to spill their thoughts upon it.

Today I imagined the Old Masters and their thoughts while painting some of their best works.  Also, I wondered how much background noises had to do with their thoughts.  In the 1600’s there were probably bird sounds and carriages pulled by horses.  The click-clack of their feet in motion may have kept a beat used to stroke the painting at a certain pace, or maybe the noises threw off the artist’ concentration when trying to do intricate work.

Did the artist paint in solitude or was there an audience watching?  Imagination is a wonderful thing which can take a person into a different realm of existence.  I could turn into someone else while painting, I could find myself hanging by strings like a puppet while I paint, I could go as  far as my imagination would carry me, or that I let it.  In the medical field, an experience like that would be termed psychosis.  I once read that artist view life differently.

What I have noticed is that art and critical care or emergency nursing could complement one another but do not go well together.  There are too many extenuating circumstances that get in the way.  There are too many details that I see which overwhelms me so I try not to see anything beyond the issues at hand.  If time slows down for some reason, it can be an asset, otherwise getting caught up in the details will often get you behind.

A good example is high blood pressure.  A person may come to the emergency room for a completely different ailment.  But as soon as the person walks in they may have a certain tone of color which changes from the neck up, a darker appearance to the skin.  Although the blood pressure may be elevated, if it is not in the danger zone, it is not addressed as rigorously.  The change in skin tone indicates a prolonged battle with high blood pressure sometimes known, sometimes not known.

Most people would not pick up on that subtle change but an artist can see it right away such as in the paleness of lips or especially the lower eyelid that reveals itself in anemia.  It may prove useful for medical students to take classes in painting the human face and becoming aware of the natural colors of the skin when they are not related to diseases and when they are.  Often times things are missed just because someone thinks it is a natural color.

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The Journal of Dreams 01/13/2010

I started finishing up the black horse rider, Martin Luther King Jr., today.  Initially The Revelation Painting was a religious painting but in September 2009 I discovered information on the internet which would change all that.  Upon searching for investment gemstones and gemstone for the painting, I stumbled across information about The New World Order.  What I found devastated me!  Digging deeper into the plan for world dominance, I saw information about concentration camps being built here in the U.S., train cars with human shackles, coffin liners which hold entire families and I felt panic, and sick to my stomach.

I didn’t work for a week, up day and night reading this stuff.  I dug deeper and deeper into truth or lies…I had to know if it was real or not.  Somewhere along the line, I came upon John F. Kennedy’s assassination and the U.S. Treasury.  It seemed JFK had taken the American people’s money away from the U.S. Treasury and created Silver Certificates.  The money was backed by our silver, not the private bankers money of the U.S.Treasury (which is by the way NOT a government agency).  Kennedy signed executive order 11110 and five months later was killed and the money control was given back to the bankers!

It made sense to me.  Money is power all over the world.  I watched video after video of Kennedy’s assassination and how he was shot in the neck, a definite “death shot” and the head.  As a nurse, I knew that a shot to the head or neck would most likely end in death.  On one of the sites I was looking at, it discussed leaders who had been assassinated and Martin Luther King Jr., was there.  I started to read about his assassination and how he was also shot in the neck, and I thought WOW, what a similar coincidence!  Several days and nights passed while I read and researched, feeling all along that the more I dug, the more I uncovered.

After about a week of constant internet, taking naps, barely eating and only getting up to pee, I realized that Martin Luther King represented the black horse in carrying the scales of balance; the balance of equality and justice and that he had paid the last sacrifice for it…his life.  It was a time closer to me than today.  When I was in school, we were the students who were sent into the Africa-American neighborhoods to go to school, housed in trailers and separate buildings.  Our once “white” classes had become black and white.  Anger filled the air from both sides and even within the classes groups segregated.

Teachers spoke arrogantly and drilled equality into our heads while all the time fear permeated in their eyes waiting for a riot or rebellion but it never came.  After time, we blended into one but many straight A students began to fail, some dropped out and it was a high price to pay for the good of the world.  Lives were changed forever and destinies were altered.  It is funny when I look at America today and the subtle separations in the work place and even video stores where “black” music and movies are separated from others, where especially when Obama was elected how it black this and white that was and still is the core of subjects.

Race should never be brought into subjects which include the nation as one, as a whole.  I do not think about those times in a negative way, although I was one of the straight A students who dropped out of school in 12th grade.  As an adult, I look back on that time and feel proud that I had an opportunity to be a part of a changing history, even if a high price was paid for it.  Those students were never mentioned and the effects it had on us as productive members of society were never mentioned either.  We were the ghost of change that no one saw, that no one remembered, yet we never forget.  Subtle segregation destroys our sacrifice and the many years it took to become regrouped into life and pick up where we were left behind.

I wondered about the end of the world, how this New World Order “take over” played a role in the painting.  I saw so many similarities and began to see the Four Horsemen as segments of time, that their colors represented races of people, then from my medical training, I saw that the four primary races were the same colors as the Four Horsemen and that time was passing in the same way as they were ordered:  White (Caucasoid), Red (Australoid), Black (Negroid) and Pale (Mongoloid).  As you can imagine, I thought I was going insane!  Had I uncovered the ultimate mystery?  Was this the meaning of the Four Horsemen?  There is another mystery I uncovered about the world and I realized destiny.

From childhood, this dream and nearly everything I’ve experienced has tied into the painting.  My rebellion, disappreciation for life and learning valuable lessons, to have the humble and sacred opportunity to look into someone’s eyes when they are dying and seeing beyond the physical or material and into the core of a soul.  The two most things that have affected me as a nurse were with old, African-American women.  I worked in a cath lab where they run a scope through the groin and into the heart to see of you have any blockages.  There was an old, woman who had chest pain and needed the scope.  She was afraid, like intuition.  She didn’t want to have the procedure done.  I respect that in people because often times something happens.

I had spent extra time with her trying to ease her fear.  The doctors called for her and I walked over to her bed.  I said:  “The doctors are ready, everything will be alright.”  Her pupils were dialated in flight or fight, the ultimate sign of fear…she didn’t say a word.  I leaned over to kiss her cheek and she grabbed a little gold cross I wore on my neck and held me there, close to her.  She was staring at the cross, still not saying a word.  A tear rolled from the corner of her eye, she looked into my eyes and I knew she trusted me and even more so, she trusted that cross.  I took it off and placed it in her hand and she was wheeled away.  Was that moment for her or me?  Did she teach me about faith that day?

The other woman was in the emergency room, she was old and I mean old!  She was over 100 years old.  I remember thinking of all the things she’d seen in her life, all the changes and what she had to have been through.  It became very busy and she was left waiting for a room upstairs.  After about 2 hours, I was going to look in on her,  I walked toward the curtain pulled around her bed and saw through a crack in the curtain her curled up body, hunched over holding a huge magnifying glass in one hand and something else in the other.  I thought:  “What is she looking at?”  As I got closer, I saw it was one of those little New Testaments.  She was reading the bible and it was one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen!

A smile slowly crept across my face in the middle of a war zone emergency room.  Everything stopped for those few seconds and I stood in awe staring at her.  I imagined how absolutely huge those words were to her eyes with that gigantic magnifying glass.  I walked up to her bedside and read through the looking-glass with her.  She was reading Psalms.  I wished I had paid better attention to exactly where she was reading.  There was probably a message there for me but in my haste I missed it.  But I remembered that day, I remembered her and I will never forget that it was one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen.

The Journal of Dreams 01/07/2010

The black swirls are dry enough to highlight with Interference Blue but I can not find it.  Interference Blue is a white powder that when disturbed turns metallic blue.  For me it seems a color associated with heaven.  Tonight my daughter and I are heading to the craft store, I will look for it there.  In the interim, I will apply the human or synthetic hair to the black horse.  I can’t find that either…frustrating.  Out into the great wide open to find what I need…

We are back after roaming the entire city!  I found a synthetic black hair with silver in it, 18″ in length.  The human hair at that place was outrageous!  When applying synthetic hair you always have to be aware of heat applied.  I usually blow-dry the hair after applying sealer.  The distance is critical or the hair will try to turn into an afro as it shrinks.  I bought human red and blond hair for the red and pale horses.  They are in the distance and the hair can be much shorter.

This hair is different from what I am used to working with.  Usually I work with hair on a track,  This hair is one continuous 36″ piece that requires cutting in the middle.  It is crazy because I absolutely cannot stand for the hair to get stuck to my hands.  It sets off a panic within me as my fingers become intertwined with the binding hair.  After I work on this, I will write more this evening.  It is snowing out, so it is a perfect time to work on inside things.

The hair is in its place but I used far more than I wanted.  It covers the riders chest that I worked so hard on to make it look muscular and in correct anatomy…it was indeed a “pretty” chest.  The swirls within the horse’s body were created by mixing Yes paste (a thick, professional grade glue) and black acrylic paint.  I sealed them with hard wood floor polymer.  I suppose the evaporation of moisture from the glue made them shrink.  I would have liked the swirls to maintain their deep texture.

John, the carpenter said something very inspiring.  I was talking about the small army of black horses under the current horse and he said: “when they x-ray the painting, they will see all of those.  They always x-ray famous paintings”.  He must have been impressed.  I felt my cheeks flush up reminding me of the shyness I used to have before I grew distant and cold in my heart after becoming a nurse.  I should have done art all along, it is my true love.

I worked on the official website some more.  Updating the event board and coloring it is more appealing.  I placed clues to mysteries on some pages.  People keep calling me Sir, I suppose most people think I am a man and leaving it that way might just get me further faster.  The website allows 5 pages, so I purchased 5 extra for 10 total to make a store for prints and associated items.  I saw mugs, hats, t-shirts and all kinds of stuff which can be made.

Well, I work the next two days.  What it feels like is when you start to get the flu or a cold, when you feel achy and a little dizzy.  I’ve felt this way hundreds of times and know I am not getting sick, I am just tired.  This job ends on the 28th.  Twenty days and 12 shifts.  Imagine working a job where you count down the days until you leave several times a year, for years and years.  The gypsy in me misses the freeway I’ve traveled so many times.

I stand outside at work in the middle of the night smoking and listening to the freeway sounds and see the headlights calling me.  Sometimes I feel like just walking away and never looking back, then I stomp out my cigarette, take a deep breath and turn toward the door.  I pulled my shoulders back and say:  “One more year, just one more year.”  When I step through the doors and smell the “hospital smell”, I forget about my dreams…I am a dedicated little soldier.