Sunday, 27 January 2019


Something of a cri de coeur here ... a page that arose out of an appointment with my arthritis specialist.  She told me that the drugs I'm on were working, and I asked why in that case I was still in so much pain?  Oh, she said, I can't do anything about your pain.  She repeated this forcefully about three times, just in case I hadn't understood it the first time.  I wanted to scream and shout "what use are you then?", but what I actually did was cry, real gut wrenching sobbing from a deep place of despair.  Maybe it was necessary that I got that out.  Then, there being no alternative, I picked myself up and got on with life again ... and gradually made my negative feelings into this page.

I think the prickly cactus actually represents the ever present pain, but I put it down in the corner where I can make it smaller and more manageable.  The butterfly is about rising above that reality, and my attempt to live a vivid and colourful life despite it.
I was thinking about the way I'd cried from the depths of my being that day, and how healing it had (eventually) been, so I made my lady into a clown of sorts - the kind who presents a smiling face, which is what I do.  The doodles across the corners represent the layers of my life that most people never get to see or understand.
But then the words came, and the cry from the heart that SOMEONE has to see and understand my pain, believe in how hard this journey of 26 years has been and is.  That's all I wanted; acknowledgement.  Its OK to say you can't fix it, but I need someone to recognise its importance and how it dominates my life.
The painted face and the bright colours are the face I show to the world - let's face it nobody loves a Moaning Minnie, so I try very hard not to be one.  That can be TOUGH.
So this page isn't just for or about me, its also for and about all those who suffer chronic pain but try to put a brave face on it to spare the people around them the realities of their daily life.  Its a cry from the heart to just now and again be seen, heard, and sometimes even briefly understood.

You have to have that to make it possible to continue ...


Artyjen said...

Seems a weird thing for your doctor to say to you! I hope somehow, something can be done to help. xoxo Sioux

Lynn Kelly said...

Rosie you are extremely talented to be able to express the life you live this way. I hope you continue from strength to strength. Lynn

Connie Blackburn said...

I wish that some people could listen and have compassion for others who suffer through whatever obstacle they are facing. I’m so glad that you can express yourself through your art on your better days. I enjoy your creativity. Love and prayers sent to you, sweet one.

Marylaure said...

Om Namah Shivaya Om Mani Padme Hum
c'est le mantra de la Grande Compassion, je le réciterai pour toi.
Et je salue ton grand courage, j'aimerais que mon soutient soit plus grand, plus "palpable".
J'aime ton art et tout ce que tu exprimes, si beau, si vrai, si touchant.
je t'embrasse de cœur.

Sarah Peck said...

Dear Rosie
I have followed you for a number of years now. I love your art. It's so beautiful. I love your words. They are so beautiful. They always express deep thoughts and feelings and give the world a glimpse of how things are in your life. I wish I could do what you do. I try very hard not to judge, to accept that how things are for others are very different from the way they are for me. I certainly do see your pain. I have to admit that there have been a few times when what I saw and read made me feel so sad for you. Then I have thought "Why doesn't Rosie express her joy and gratitude in this way too? It might make her feel differently." Today I had an 'aha' moment and realised that expressing your feelings in this way gives you a big opportunity to work through them and let them go. Maybe those cruel and heartless words from your doctor were just the trigger you needed to release some deeper stuff too. Maybe it's a prompt to seek out alternative ways to control your pain? (ie. accupuncture?) Keep doing your beautiful art and know that there are many out here sending you love and prayers for healing.

alexa said...

It has taken me a little while to know how to reply to your heartfelt post, Rosie. I know from working with people who have fibromyalgia and related conditions that the pain is very exhausting and debilitating, can really grind one down, and is so very invisible and therefore often kept hidden; and that it's impossible to really appreciate its effects unless you actually have it yourself ... And the effort of not making it visible to others and putting on a mask is another layer of tension which is in itself painful. I hope that being able to touch and express the depths of it within yourself, and just be yourself, will be a release of some kind, and that your honest, touching and visually detailed pages will ease things a little for you. xx

Monica said...

Oh Rosie I am so happy to find your blog again. You inspire, you give hope and love. Now diagnosed with Myasthenia gravis I am terrified. Well I was at first. Now will again follow you and feel each day is a gift. thanks