TRIUMPH OF SPIRIT IN LOVE, NATURE & ART

Mood Paintings

Water Works #5 and 6

Night Flares

Descent of Night

Etsy.com


Water Works #3 and 4

Grey Day Reflections

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Jupiter

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Water Works Studios 


Water Works #1 and #2

 Magenta Dawndscf9243_edited-1

Summer Wind in Greendscf9237_edited-1

Water Art Studios


Diagnosis: Bipolar Disorder

Kitt O’Malley over at kittomalley.com posted the following information, along with her wonderfully done video in which she discusses her own battle with Bipolar Disorder and offers encouragement to those newly diagnosed.   Watch her excellent video!

Kitt writes: “Healthline launched a video campaign called “You’ve Got This” where we who live with bipolar disorder can make a short video offering hope and inspiration to those recently diagnosed with bipolar disorder.” Healthline also makes a contribution to charity for each video submitted.

This is my contribution.  It is an effort to show one possible “gift” Bipolar Disorder gives– the gift of creativity.  And though it sometimes seems as if the medications for BPD cut down on our creativity, actually they make it possible for us Bipolars to organize our thoughts and execute  whatever creative works we are inspired to do.  You may just have to listen a little harder to the quiet voice within.  Don’t worry.  It is there.  And with medication you actually have a chance of following through on your ideas.

The video at top is a small sampling of my work that would not have been born without my being Bipolar.

 


Dark Night of the Soul

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No words today…


Image

Violet Venus


Bolt of Blue

Violet mood

 blue grace

soothes the beast


White Flowers in Blue Trees

White flowers in Blue Trees

My husband pronounces this a cow

standing among greens

well if it is a cow

don’t eat him

he is a sacred cow

as we all are sacred

I see him standing among the brush triumphant

for no one has turned him into hamburger

but

I say they are blue trees

at twilight

filled with white blossoms

well if they are blossoms

don’t pick them

and extinguish their life of beauty

grabbing Nature

as if She were our own

meant to serve us

when She is there to teach us

about the Great Being

benevolent with His gifts

such as blue cows

or blue trees with white flowers

as Nature whispers in our ears

as She manifests the gifts of the Great Being

and we boorishly

 cut them down

and put them in vases

(if I am right and they are blue trees with white flowers)

where in a day or so they die

having given their lives

for the mundane, bourgeois folly

of decorating our homes

or

(if my husband is right and they are cows)

 we boorishly eat them

despite the disgust of eating flesh

at the expense of deaths by extreme cruelty

a travesty of justice

crimes against Nature

when She is to be untouched

and admired

just as She is

for She is the perfect

creation of our Heavenly Father.


Eyes to Eternity

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At age 35 I found someone who was more afraid of closeness than I was.  I understood him almost from day one.  This understanding came out of years of therapy that followed my breakdown at age 28.  Before the breakdown, I didn’t know that I was depressed.  Before the breakdown, I didn’t know that my failed relationships were due to my fear of closeness.  Before the breakdown, I didn’t know I was Bipolar.  I learned a lot of things in therapy that helped to change the direction of my life.

And then one day Thomas walked into the library where I had been working for 10 years.  He got a job as a library assistant.  He was a graduate student and wanted to work part-time.  I took the first steps towards asking him out because it was obvious he never would.  I had learned a thing or two after a stint at being gay.  We bumbled our way into a relationship and, after 4 years, into marriage.  We didn’t know that either one of us had Asperger’s Syndrome, a neurodevelopmental disorder on the Autism Spectrum, until much, much later.  We just thought we were very, very shy.

After some 23 years of marriage we are still shy with each other.  Our instincts are still to run away from closeness, but now we are able to override the first gut feeling.  We have grown together, becoming very, very close.  So close that now my biggest fear is of losing Thomas.  So close that sometimes we communicate without talking, as if we are on the same radio frequency.  In fact talking often confuses things.

We have pushed each other along life’s path.  Tom became a clinical social worker and I became a writer and artist.  The road has been bumpy in spots.  My being Bipolar has been hard for Tom at times.  Many times.  But there have been many more moments of joy that make it all worthwhile.  We both feel the other is the best thing that happened to us, and the journey continues.  New lessons are learned.   There are still new magical moments and new epiphanies.

It is 3A.M.   I lay beside Thomas in bed listening to his breathing as I watch a silent light show outside our bedroom windows.  This is not a 3A.M. awakening born of despair as some are.  At the moment I feel the Presence and that Presence fills me with love.

The moonlight beckons to me, and I respond by getting up and gazing at the twinkling stars and the hushed light of flickering fireflies. In the quiet stillness of a country night I am stirred by the music of the silence.  My ears hum, the sound of the nervous system according to my husband.

The cool air is intoxicating.  I go to the den to write and sit in a moonlit cathedral, watching the seemingly random flashing flames of fireflies flying in a frenzy of love.  The madness of desire.  Well do I know how love possesses one’s spirit and makes one fly through life, manic with emotion.

Yet sometimes, beneath the energy that stirs one’s blood, lies a silent union—a momentary glimpse of eternity in a loved-locked gaze into the eyes of one’s beloved.  It is fleeting, at least for me.  Gone in a flash, and yet it leaves me wondering just whom I am seeing.   The inner voice says that God has touched my soul through Thomas, for the best of  human love is merely a sampling of the Divine.  Eye contact, so problematic for both my husband and me, is wondrous in this context.  For a second, eternity beckons like the moonlight, whispering of another life, another world, something beyond the here and now.

(Click http://www.independentauthornetwork.com/ellen-stockdale-wolfe.html  for information on, and to purchase my Bipolar/Asperger’s memoir.)


Darkness Falls

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Darkness falls

shoving my precious blues and violets

down the black hole of depression.

I no longer remember

how to smile

or create

or spar.

I wish to disappear

into the darkness

until the light returns.