It started by nearly missing the judging portion altogether.  There was a mistake on the exhibit times – to the tune of being an hour sooner than what was printed!  Luckily my mom was going too, and had a different time on her printout, so I called PAC to clarify which was correct.  We rushed and got there about 15 minutes before judging. 

When David and I arrived we were greeted by “You’re Jennifer, aren’t you?  I am so glad you made it in time – where’s your mom?”

I was then shown where my entry was hanging.  There was a red dot on the title card.  “Do you know what that means?”  I was asked.  I said, “no”.  “It means your piece SOLD!”  She almost yelled, as excited for me as I was about to be.  “— it sold?!?”

“Your mom was so excited, she wanted to tell you – but I can’t wait any longer and she’s not here.”  (I am sorry I don’t know who it was who told me, I was in shock from the great news!)

It turns out an older gentleman came in, loved Triumph, and purchased it as a gift.  OMG!  Now it’s not like I haven’t sold things, lots and lots of them actually – but not at a show like this I haven’t.  The thrill is altogether different than it was in my brick and mortar store, on line, or in an outdoor art festival setting.  It is even more affirming to have someone come in, admire and ultimately purchase it.  David had been off admiring an abstract oil canvas that depicted a pool of swimming koi.  The shape of their orange backs just discernable within the choppy oil waters attracted him. 

When I told him his jaw dropped.  Yep, just like in a book, “his jaw dropped.”  !

This thrill carried on and when my mom finally arrived she was beside herself for me.  She had known Triumph sold for over a week and kept it secret.  Oh the strength that must’ve taken!  During the judging, we stood around applauding for the honorable mentions, 3rd place, 2nd place – all going to canvas after canvas of wonderful, beautiful fine art. 

“And 1st place goes to Jennifer Swan Hopkins!”  Now it was time for MY jaw to drop.  And to fight a very tearful reaction.  Mom and Terry didn’t bother fighting it, they cried and David grinned.  The show of support from them and those strangers all around me was even more of a high – uplifting and heartwarming.

My work "Triumph" took 1st Place in the Pasco Arts Council annual exhibit!  The judge said,

"This tapestry works on so many levels… The mixing of cloth and paper, the great layering, the use of different stitching patterns. In this body, it stands out as very original."

How fabulous it is to be recognized and have something you love to do appreciated – thank you God, mom, PAC and that unknown judge, so very much!

This piece is especially meaningful to me from its Theda Bara Cleopatra image, to the ornately wrought collage work and 1920’s pull incorporated into it.  Its saying (also from the play “Cleopatra”), “I will not be triumphed over”, signifies the core of iron in my own middle, my will to overcome my limitations, to excel.

Let me recap – My piece sold AND I won 1st prize.  Whooo Hooo!

*Day 3 ☼ This is not my first adventure with shoulder surgery, God willing – it is my last!  The first was 6 years ago, and entailed an open-rotator cuff repair on my left shoulder, meaning they cut my shoulder wide open.  I don’t remember the pain of surgery as being any more than expected.  However PT (physical therapy) was excruciating and lasted forever, or so it seemed.  The agony was so intense I thought (as I bawled in front of a room full of strangers) I should suggest it to captors in need of new torture regimens.  I’m sure they are always on the lookout for alternative methods of making prisoners cry… and break.  Shoulder PT would bring even the most resistant to their knees.

Despite the pain, I persevered and regained 100% of my range of motion in the shoulder, and it was as good as new.  Successful and with the torture securely behind me, I highly (and blithely) recommended this surgery to family, friends and complete strangers that crossed my path and who were in search of options and personal experiences.  So, even though I knew what I was in for, when my right shoulder began its familiar bad behavior about a year ago, I began preparing mentally. 

Decisions, Decisions ☼ The right shoulder had always been the trouble-maker, which was why I was so surprised when the left one “went” 6 years ago.  20-odd years ago I was rear-ended at 40 miles while at a stoplight.  I was holding onto the steering wheel of course, and the resulting jolt tore something (in addition to giving me a nasty whiplash) in my shoulder.  Thus began years of PT, cortisone injections, remission and recurrence of the symptoms.  I guess over time it finally just gave up and grew a bone spur out of spite or something, leaving me with a tear, a spur and eventually, a frozen shoulder. 

In September, I knew full-blown shoulder-shut down was immanent – I could literally feel it in my bones.  I kept trying to move, stretch, and use my arm to try to stop the ravages of the inevitable, to no avail.  In November I gave up.  I researched and found a surgeon.  In December, as a reaction to a yearly insurance deductible, I changed my appointment to January.  A day before the surgery it was moved up a week. 

‘sigh.  I can’t tell you what a drag it is to be “ready” for the dread experience of surgery, (which you are willing to endure just so the months of sleepless nights and the pain due to your stupid shoulder, will end) just to have it cancelled.

Finally last Thursday, after a year of more misery, I had my right shoulder repaired.  Athroscopically this time; here begins a new journey for me.  A little late to think of this, I am mostly struck with the enormously difficult task of doing things left-handed.  I wield a fork like a 1-year old, dumping scrambled eggs down my front and forgetting my right arm doesn’t work so well.  Imagine the painful shock of unconsciously reaching with the right for the remote… an explosively offered “SHIT” is an oft-heard word lately.  It us usually preceded by “OW OW OW, DAMMIT, CRAP, OHHHHH!!!!” in a high-pitched screech. 

As I venture into the world of the south-paw, I have an uncomfortable feeling this recovery is going to be much more challenging.

Arthroscopic Rotator Cuff Repairs

By Jonathan Cluett, M.D., About.com Guide

Image © Medical Mulitmedia Group

A tear of the rotator cuff is an injury to the tendons of the shoulder muscles.

Arthroscopic rotator cuff repairs cause minimal trauma to the tissues that surround the shoulder and the rotator cuff. Because of this patients have smaller scars and less damage to these nearby structures. Most important of these surrounding structures is the large deltoid muscle over the outside of the shoulder. One potential complication of an open rotator cuff repair is detachment of the deltoid; this potential problem is avoided by the arthroscopic technique. Some surgeons also believe they can see the rotator cuff much better through an arthroscope, and can maneuver throughout the shoulder joint without the limitations of an incision.

See More About:

• rotator cuff tear
• rotator cuff repairs
• shoulder arthroscopy
• partial rotator cuff tear

Sweet Morpheus ☼ The things that “get to” me because of my experiences or fears, most likely aren’t the same as yours.  My doctor opts for the “shoulder nerve block” method of anesthesia during shoulder surgeries.  When I told Dr. Anesthesia “I don’t want that.”  She dispassionately explained the harsh reality of getting knocked out to me.  As I agonized over them using their usual method, versus using narcotics to sedate me, I tried to assimilate the information. 

No block meant narcotics (necessitating “protecting my airway” by intubating me).  Narcotics make me nauseous at best, and produce uncontrollable vomiting and depression for days afterwards at worst.  The block and its anesthesia have the benefits of non-narcotic knock-outs and pain relief for 24 hours following surgery as your entire shoulder, and arm, are numb.  For me the down side of this method is the freaky way I feared I would feel from said numbness (valium, please!)  I envisioned 24 hours of nails screeching down a chalk board.  After anxious contemplation I surrendered and said, “go ahead with the block”.

Upon arrival at home I felt positively crawly and weirded out.  When I would move, this alien appendage would flop like a great, hot, limp, fish; and lay their kind of tingling and swollen, silently mocking me for succumbing to the block.  As I walked it would swing eerily with flailing, pendulous, heavy movements – apparently of its own accord – making me doubt it was actually attached at all.  When I would grab it to try to stop it (as it was freaking me out no end) I wondered in alarm “WHOSE IS THIS???”  I was tempted to let it go – It sure as hell didn’t feel like anything of MINE.  When I would roll on my side, it remained dead, just laying there back behind me, “it can’t be good for it to be at that angle, right?” I thought, as I called David to come pick it up and place it in some semblance
of normalcy at my side.

Add to that the fact that my neck and face were numb too, and that my eye kind of drooped – well, it’s over now.  Thank God.

*Please forgive typos and lapses in grammar, logic, etc… it’s really hard to type and I am still recovering!

It wasn’t intentional, but I finished this piece yesterday and here it is Pink Saturday!  Don’t you love a happy co-inky-dink?  I do!  As you can see, this Mermaid Miracle shrine is PINK!  In person it looks absolutely magical, and it is.  Happy Pink Saturday (Thank you Bev, I’m unofficially – officially participating!)

 

Miracles DO happen, they are attracted to us when we know in our hearts they are already ours. Delicate and intricate, this shrine shines with the inscription "Faith, Hope, BELIEVE". As she hangs on your wall, she will beautifully remind you of your miracle.

Theme:

• ☼ Miracle
• ☼ Mermaid
• ☼ Believe
• ☼ Pink

Size:

• ☼ 6x4x1.25 inches

Materials Used:

• ☼ Acrylic, Foil, Metal, Paper, Wood, Fabric

Shipping:

• ☼ US: Included
• ☼ International: Additional Charges Apply, By Location

Now for Sale in my FaceBook Shop: SHRINES – they are so fabulous: ) I just love this assemblage stuff!

• Mermaid Miracle Shrine
• Where Your Treasure Lies Shrine

I was going to write a post for today, January 21, 2011, and wanted to find the picture of us kissing that first night we met.  I found this post and also found, well, I couldn’t say it any better.  So in lieu of new – REPOSTING:

♥♥♥

Our Wedding Day

Immediate and first recollections: The day we got married in Minnesota, 16 years ago today, it was about 15 below zero, raw and grey.  I remember I was having panic attacks at the church I was so nervous.  The basement where I got ready was freezing and it had the typical church-basement feel and smell.  It was all so strange and unfamiliar.  My “bouquet” of calla lilies was almost as tall as me.

After the ceremony, we stopped for a toast at a little bar down the road on the way to the reception (which was held at Spanky’s, a bar where there were pool tables, dartboards, foosball, and so on).  Strange venue for a wedding reception, maybe – but it was relaxed and fun (and inexpensive, hey, I paid for this myself!)  We had a caterer, a DJ, kegs and a bunch of uncomfortable older relatives who probably thought, “a reception in a BAR???” or “this will never last”.  Ha.

A Bar for a Wedding Reception?

In our defense, not only was it what we could afford, (other than the church hall and we were NOT about to have a reception some place where you couldn’t drink, smoke, listen to rock, and dance!), it was what we were into at the time; we were in a couple’s dart league out of that bar.  Spanky’s was the place my daughter dragged me off to that first fateful night so I would get out of the house. She was trying to pull me out of my depression caused by the devastating break up nearly a year earlier from my almost-priest, the first “nice” guy I had ever gone out with. 

It is where we met, my David and I.  In front of God and everybody, this is where on that first night I fell unconsciously, completely, hungrily, wantonly into an all encompassing David-kiss before climbing into the backseat of the car to be driven home by my daughter and her then boyfriend, Doug.  That kiss was needed for way too long.  Earlier that evening, before many light beers and dancing with strangers, Spanky’s is where I spotted my David and turned to my daughter and said “that is the kind of guy I want.  I want him.”  But I thought he was taken, all the more compelling, and safe.  Did I mention he was wearing a purple tux and that he had just been best man at his friend’s wedding?  I conversely, had been hanging curtains when my daughter spirited me away without even allowing me a chance to change.

The Dating Game

After that initial night came a time of excruciating first and early dates, the ‘getting back into the game” and “getting to know you’ stage.  Going bowling with the insulating group of friends in tow, or clinking glasses of wheaty visen and slamming boots of beer (down thirsty throats and on wooden planked tables) in between shouting out “HOI HOI HOI!” at the Northeast Minneapolis German restaurant called Gasthof zur Gemütlichkeit.   This landmark is where we over-indulged in shots of sweet Apfelkorn and snuff snapped at high velocity up our noses off the ingenious, spring-loaded, wooden snuff board.  These were loud rowdy nights of screaming laughter, polkas, and drinking games, in a convivial establishment where the guy who made me ring the bells while he sang “My Ding-a-Ling” strolled amongst the tables and dirndled waitresses offered endless drinks of fun in a shot glass or who were more than happy to hit you up yet again with their menthol or regular nose-burning snoose. 

1. Please leave license and credit card for deposit.
2. Das Boot can never touch the table until it is empty.
3. After drinking, you must flick the glass with you finger before passing Das Boot.
4. Always drink Das Boot with the toe facing out.
5. If you get splashed in the face, you must drink again.
6. The person who drank from Das Boot immediately preceding the person to empty Das Boot must purchase the next fill.
7. If you break rules 2-4, you must drink again.
8. Never clink Das Boot with other glassware or slam it on the table.
   IT WILL BREAK!
9. If you break or lose Das Boot you will be charged $50.00!

Arrested Development

Let me try to explain this wild behavior at age 40… I had Adrienne, my darling daughter, when I was 16.  I married young and had two more children, my wonderful sons Collin and Jesse, by the time I was 22.  It didn’t leave much time for growing up normally or doing the things one would do at that age. 

Those first years with David were like a gift I never imagined receiving.

Back then it was like I was able to make up for my lost youth, my lost love, my lost time.  This was a hazy almost frantic period of nearly-nightly mini-celebrations at favorite establishments followed by harrowing drives back to St. Paul from Northeast (or Nordeast if you’re a native) Minneapolis for late night/early morning burgers and fries, then home to my house, or to his, then up for work with a blinding headache and no clean clothes.  The later was sometimes remedied by jauntily wearing a man’s suit jacket over a plain, white T – jacket sleeves rolled up.  Pair this with the work-skirt from yesterday (as well as from last night’s revelry), hastily aired out in the dryer and smoothed against my alcohol poisoned, quaking legs, this was the strange and slightly desperate ensemble sometimes worn to my job at the Archdiocese. How did we survive???  Improvisation and luck, apparently.

Of course inspiring mornings like these are what lead to bringing a change or two of clothes over, “just in case”.  They are what precipitate absconding not only with his heart, but a drawer, a section of the closet, a place in the holder for one’s toothbrush, and the space for one’s car in the drive.  Soon you are cleaning and simultaneously reorganizing his house, therefore redecorating a bit – small things at first, like getting him to move the cat litter box out of the dining room (EWWW!)  Larger things (like his roommate) came later…

That sounds sneakier that it was.  Throughout our nearly 2-year dating period I told him right out loud I wanted to marry him.  You see, I had no doubt about him or us, none.  For me, upon seeing his sweet face, his tall lanky form, his blonde, blue-eyed self with the neat clothing and short, military haircut, for me truly it was love at first sight.  When I saw him in uniform (he’d been in the Army, then enlisted in the National Guard) I honestly thought I’d swoon I thought he was so hot.

I realized I’m not mentioning the other times. I could write a book of my early memories and the activities surrounding them there are so many, bear with me while I reminisce a while: 

Going to his parent’s house that first Christmas – they gave me a watch and Mackie perfume he’d picked out.  Our first drive and stay up to the cabin (whoooo son!), playing endless rounds of “dirt” or other games with various friends, my mom, Adrienne, Doug, Steve…; all of us going to the Brown Derby Blues bar, singing karaoke at his mom’s 50th, him getting his “Clam” ice fishing shelter, excitedly setting it up in the dining room and then making plans to go on my maiden ice-fishing escapade.  Him teaching me how to bowl or fish, how to drink beer in tomato juice for breakfast while fishing, being introduced to bachelor food like pizza rolls for the first time; Steve, David and me listening to head-banger music as we drove down to Mankato for the routine and designated Guard weekend.  We had overnighters in St. Cloud (with his long-time Westside Lanes teammates from the Masters league) for a bowling tournament, his 300 game, his 300 ring.  David explaining what a birdie, eagle, or bogie is, showing me how to hold a golf club, how to drive a boat for a skier, how to drive a golf cart; how it is to be included, how to trust and how to recognize love.

This was us these 16 years ago.  I am crying for the joy of it as I write, remembering how I felt when we got married that day.  I knew I had finally WON something, in fact, I knew I had won the grand prize.  Maybe that is why I was so nervous on my wedding day, afraid the fates would be jealous and snatch it all away.  But they haven’t, I think they are rejoicing too.  Happy anniversary David, I love you.

Our Wedding Dance

 

I’ve seen the seven wonders of the world.
I’ve seen the beauty of diamonds and pearls.
But they mean nothing,
Your love amazes me.

I’ve seen a sunset that would make you cry,
And colors of the rainbow, reaching cross the sky,
The moon in all it’s phases,
Your love amazes me

Don’t you ever doubt this love of mine,
You’re the only one for me.
You give me hope,
You give me reason,
You give me something to believe in -
Forever faithfully.
Your love amazes me.

I prayed for miracles that never came,
I got down on my knees out in the pouring rain.
But only you could save me,
Your love amazes me.

Don’t you ever doubt this love of mine,
You’re the only one for me.
You give me hope,
You give me reason,
You give me something to believe in -
Forever faithfully.
Your love amazes me.