I am blogging from A to Z about Helen Burling Ottaway, my artist mother, and other women artists.
My mother loved painting trees and doing etchings of trees, but this is a tree peony. Another etching, and this printed with two colors at the same time. Delicate work, to ink the plate with two colors and gently wipe off the excess without mixing them.
A friend quotes her son, who says that our immune systems are failing because we have been in isolation. I respond that it’s not isolation: it is stress. Anyone who is not stressed by the addition of war to a pandemic needs to have their head examined. Why does stress mess up our immune systems?
We have two main systemic states: sympathetic and parasympathetic. Sympathetic is the high stress, fight or flight, muscles fired up, gut on hold, and unfortunately we have a pretty sympathetic state culture. Add a pandemic on top of that and then a war and no wonder everyone is flipping out. Parasympathetic is the one we don’t hear about: the happy, relaxed one that likes stupid cat videos and laughter.
Without the sympathetic nervous system, we can survive. Without the parasympathetic, we die.
I have written about how we metabolize cholesterol, depending on whether we are in a sympathetic or parasympathetic state. When we are relaxed, or less stressed, we make more sex hormones and thyroid hormone. That is parasympathetic.
When we are in a crisis, or more stressed, we make more adrenaline and cortisol. That is in the sympathetic nervous system arousal state.
A pain conference I went to at Swedish Hospital took this a step further. They said that chronic pain and PTSD patients are in a high sympathetic nervous system state. The sympathetic nervous system is the fight or flight state. It’s great for emergencies: increases heart rate, dilates air passages in the lungs, dilates pupils, reduces gut mobility, increases blood glucose, and tightens the fascia in the muscles so that you can fight or run. But…. what if you are in a sympathetic nervous system state all the time? Fatigue, decreased sex drive, insomnia and agitated or anxious. And remember the tightened fascia? Muscle pain. The high cortisol level also is not good for the immune system, so we are more likely to get sick. High cortisol also raises blood sugar and the immune system is hyperalert. We are more likely to develop autoimmune disorders.
When we are relaxed, the parasympathetic system is in charge. Digesting food, resting, sexual arousal, salivation, lacrimation, urination, and defecation. So saliva, tears, urine, and bowel movements, not to mention digesting food and interest in sex. And muscles relax.
If the sympathetic nervous system is in overdrive, how do we shut it off? I had an interesting conversation with a person with PTSD , where he said that he finds that all his muscles are tight when he is watching television. He can consciously relax them.
“Do they stay relaxed?” I asked.
“I don’t know.” he replies, “but my normal is the hyperalert state.”
“Maybe the hyperalert state, the sympathetic state, is what you are used to, rather than being your normal.”
He sat and stared at me. A different idea….
So HOW do we switch over from the sympathetic to the parasympathetic state?
Swedish taught a breathing technique.
Twenty minutes. Six breaths per minute, either 5 seconds in and 5 seconds out, or 6 in and 4 out. Your preference. And they said that after 15 minutes, people switch from the sympathetic to the parasympathetic state.
Does this work for everyone? Is it always at 15 minutes? I don’t know yet. But now I am thinking hard about different ways to switch the sympathetic to parasympathetic.
Meditation. Slow walking outside. No headphones! We need to listen to the birds and wind, watch the trees, really look at nature. All of the new sensory input relaxes us. Rocking: a rocking chair or glider. Breathing exercises: 5 seconds in and 5 seconds out. Work up to 20 minutes. Massage: but not for people who fear being touched. One study of a one hour massage showed cortisol dropping by 50% on average in blood levels. That is huge. Playing: (one site says especially with children and animals. But it also says we are intelligently designed). Yoga, tai chi, and chi kung. Whatever relaxes YOU: knitting, singing, working on cars, carving, puttering, soduku, jigsaw puzzles, word searches, making bean pictures or macaroni pictures, coloring, a purring cat, throwing a ball for a dog…..and I’ll bet the stupid pet photos and videos help too….
My patient took my diagrams and notes written on the exam table paper home. He is thinking about the parasympathetic state: about getting to know it and deliberately exploring it.
I am blogging A to Z about artists, particularly women artists and mostly about my mother, Helen Burling Ottaway.
I find two copies of her resume. One is from 1991 and one from 1993. I will add the 1993 information, but it’s a LOT. My mother was prolific! She complained about getting ready for shows and I did not realize how very many she did! I am so proud of her. She died of ovarian cancer in 2000 and I do miss her still.
Helen Burling Ottaway
Β Del Ray Atelier
105 E. Monroe Ave
Alexandria, VA 22301
SELECTED SOLO SHOWS
1991 Nov Will have solo show at Bird-in-Hand Gallery, Washington, DC
1989 Sept βCascades: Watercolors of Washington Stateβ, Bird-in-Hand Gallery, Washington, DC
1988 Nov βFantasy Etchingsβ, National Orthopedic Hospital, Arlington, VA
1987 Oct βSpirits to Enforce, Art to Enchantβ, Fantasy Art, River Road Uniterian Church, Bethesda, MD
1986 Mar βPrints and Poemsβ, Poetry by Katy Ottaway, Martin Luther King Library, Washington, DC
1984 Nov βForests, Flower, and Fantasiesβ, Sola Gallery, Ithaca, NY
Apr βBirdland and other Lullabiesβ, Pastels, Gallery West, Alexandria, VA
1981 May βFantastical Bestiaryβ, Etchings and Drawings, Gallery West, Alexandria, VA
Mar βThe Way of the Brushβ, Watercolors, Gallery One, Alexandria, VA
TWO PERSON SHOWS
1986 Nov Two Person Show, βAn Occasional Pair of Clawsβ, Fantasy Art with Omar Dasent, Gallery West, Alexandria, VA
1985 Apr Two person Show, βFigures and Foliageβ, Pastels, Capital Centre Gallery, Landover, MD
1982 Nov Two Person Show, βThe Four Seasonsβ, Gallery West, Alexandria, VA
SELECTED GROUP SHOWS
1990 Feb βVisions 1990β Westbeth Gallery, New York, NY
1989 Feb βYear inβYear outβ, Studio Gallery, Washington, DC
1988 Mar βindependent Visions IIIβ, Metro Gallery, Arlington, VA
May Juried Show, Sculpture, The Art League, Alexandria, VA, Juror: Bertold Schmutzart
1987 Dec Juried Show: βThe Best of 1987β, Martin Luther King Library, Washington, DC, Jurors: Dr.
Jacqueline Serwer, Sandra Wested, Robert Stewart
1987 Apr βIndependent Visions, Fifteen Women Artistsβ, Metro Gallery, Arlington, VA
Feb βPortraits 1987β, The Art Barn, Washington, DC
1986 Oct βJuried Show, βPrintmakers VIIIβ, The New Art Center, Washington, DC
Jan βIndependent Visionsβ, Metro Gallery, Arlington, VA
1985 Dec Invitational, βHighlights of the Yearβ, Martin Luther King Library, Washington, DC. Jurors:
Linda Hartigan and Monroe Fabian
Nov Invitational, βThe Macadam Nueve-Splintergreen Conspiracy Showβ, Gallerie Inti,
Washington, DC. Curated by Omar Dasent and Ann Stein
Oct Juried show, βPrintmakers VIIβ, WWAC, Washington, DC. Juror: Jane Farmer
Mar Invitational, βMama, Donβt Let Your Babies Grow up to be Artistsβ, The Splintergreen
Conspiracy, Martin Luther King Library, Washington, DC. Curated by Omar Dasent
Mar βShakespearean Imagesβ, Hofstra University, Hempstead, NY
1984 Nov Juried Show, βPrintmakers VIβ, WWAC, Washington, DC. Juror: Carol Pulin
July Juried Show, βPrintmakers VIβ, WWAC, Washington, DC. Juror: Jo Anna Olshonsky
Oct Four Person Show, βJust Fourβ, Galerie Triangle, Washington, DC
βThe First Great American Camel Showβ, Gallery West, Alexandria, VA
1983 Mar Juried Show, βPrintmakers Vβ, WWAC, Washington, DC. Juror: Barbara Fiedler
Feb Juried Show, βArtists β Art Historians: A Retrospective 1972-1982β, National Conference, The Womenβs Caucus for Art,m Bryce Gallery, Moore College, Philadelphia, PA
1982 May Juried Show, βWoman as Myth and Archetypeβ, WWAC, Wshington, DC. Juror: Mary Beth Edelson
Feb Invitational, βArt is where the Heart isβ, Gallery 805, Fredricksberg, VA
Feb βThe Printmakers of the WWAC, The Torpedo Factory, Alexandria, VA
Jan Juried Show, βThe Eye of Eleanor Monroeβ, WWAC, Washington, DC Juror: Eleanor Monroe
1981 Oct. Juried Show, βCollage and Drawingβ, WWAC, Washington, DC Juror: Jan Root
Numerous juried shows, the Art League, Alexandria, VA
Numerous group shows, Gallery West, Alexandria, VA
EDUCATION
1967 B.F.A Cornell University, Ithaca, NW
WORK EXPERIENCE
1992-currently Teach Drawing and Watercolor, Capital Hill Arts Workshop, Washington, DC
Teach Art Class for Seniors, Recreation Department, Alexandria, VA
Teach etching workshops and watercolors at the Delray Atelier, Alexandria, VA
1987-1990 Graphic Artist, Al Porter Graphics, Washington, DC
1985 Fall Co-Director of Gallery West, Alexandria, VA
1982 Director of Exhibitions, WWAC, Washington, DC
1982 Director of Gallery West, Alexandria, VA
1981 Chair of Exhibitions Committee of Gallery West, Alexandia, VA
Taught watercolor classes at Washington Womenβs Art Center, Washington, DC
Taught childrenβs art classes for the Arlington Recreation Department
1967-1970 Assistant Curator at the Ithaca College Museum of Art, Ithaca, NY
we are talking about silence
yours deliberate
you don’t want people to know
how you make your money
you are angry, I notice
at how people treat you
you are a self made man
with a lot of money
I don’t much care
about your money
happy for you
& etc
I am more interested in silence
I go silent in Kindergarten
because I am too weird
have no tv
and want to sing
I do not bother to lie
because people don’t listen anyhow
and they don’t believe me
I listen, you say
I read everything you send me
That is not enough, I think
I don’t say it
I think about saying it
I don’t say it
I stopped sending you my poems
months ago
when you got angry
I asked if you would respond
something
a positive
a negative
even just “Read it.”
I don’t understand
why you got angry
and I am not scared
so much as surprised
I guess you brook no criticism
ever
I wonder why you must be perfect
seems tiring to me
at any rate
I am not sending you any poems
any more
since then
you could read my blog
I post some there
selected ones
unexceptional
less personal
though I suppose you could still
be angry
you say you know I am angry
when I go silent
I go silent, thinking about that
you are right that there is anger there
in the room with us
you sense it
it is yours, not mine
the bear chained in the dungeon
roaring
poor bear
I send it love
and it is crying
bitter tears
wet and cold
in a pool of tears
I can’t free it
only you can
for a moment you are aware
that I am silent about my poems
then you slam the dungeon door again
and talk about guns and science
and what you will do next
and what you will do next
with your bear
and without me
The Ragtag Daily Prompt today is referee. I might need one. A referee. Or a keeper.
Yesterday I went for a walk. No big deal, right? Except that I am still jet lagged from a trip and I had to stay an extra eight days because of I got (thankfully mild) covid and my muscles are still a bit weird.
I go with my friend J, who usually walks 16-20 miles on what he calls day hikes. We walk from my house to North Beach and then out North Beach nearly to Glass Beach. I bring water. He brings water and cliff bars. I eat one. We turn back. It is glorious and gorgeous and sunny and he is up visiting from Portland. We talk and talk.
I am pretty tired by the time we get to the parking lot and think, oh good. Then I remember: no, we walked from my house. Two more miles. I am trying not to limp by the time I home. He goes off to work some more and I crash on the couch.
After a bit I realize that I am not hungry and I feel peculiar and my legs hurt a lot. Uh-oh. I get up. I can’t remember the name of the muscle disorder, but I remember what it does. Seriously overdoing can cause muscle breakdown. This in turn can be very bad for the kidneys. I need fluids, right away. I mix 12 ounces of water with a little sugar and salt. Later I add bicarb, baking soda. It doesn’t taste either bad or good. I eat three dried apricots: potassium.
After 48 ounces of this and two hours, I start feeling a little better, and my kidneys start working again. My legs hurt less. I feed the cats and I still don’t want food. Ok, well, I won’t starve over night. More fluids and to sleep.
I finally have a little bit of an appetite this morning. Not much. I am tired and a bit sore but not like yesterday. Whew. I need a keeper.
Today I am soft
Today I am gentle
Today I have a cold, not covid
Today I will stay in bed and read novels
Today I am not intense
Today I am soft
Today we need softness in the world
Today I am soft
_______________
Written last week. For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: soft.
I am blogging A to Z about artists, particularly women artists and mostly about my mother, Helen Burling Ottaway. Today’s post is about my mother and my sister: another woman artist. Christine Robbins Ottaway.
I do not have much of her fine art. She was a landscape architect and historic preservation expert and worked for Caltrans. She also wrote, on her blog Butterfly Soup, and in other places.
The painting is an oil, by my mother Helen Ottaway, done when my sister was 14. This painting seems especially creepy to me, the oranges and blues. I love the painting but it is frightening as well. My sister could write terrifying stories. Here is my poem about one of her stories. The title of her story is “We don’t make good wives”.
Paper over
They are papering over your memory They want the clean version The inhuman perfect version I remember the violent sea serpent Related to Aunt Nessie: me, I think
He stole your skin, you say
But you lure him to, posing
On the shore naked
And let him take you home
And impregnate you
And then you have six daughters
What did he expect? you say
Cold blooded and beautiful
White skin and greenish hair
Who all can swim like fish
and all seven search
Until you find the skin
and then away
You say, he took my skin
Now I have taken his
Let them paper over your memory Let them pretend you were sweet I hold your words in my mind And I love you wholly
you are angry you say
I don’t think those are the right words, I say
not angry? you say
bored, I say
BORED you say
Yeah, I say
Well, you say you don’t love me
You say you won’t change
You say you changed once, in the past
You say you won’t go in a church
You say you did that
You say you won’t go in a casino
You did that
I’m BORED
My first thought about the church
My first thought about the casino
Is that is clearly where I can go
If I want to avoid you
My second thought about the church
My second thought about the casino
is ICK. Why am I hanging around
someone who doesn’t love me
someone who doesn’t plan to change?
My sister and I talk about the people who don’t change about the people who remain the same about the stubborn who bury their heads
We notice them shrinking as the world changes around them the things they are willing to do the people they are willing to talk to the places they are willing to go get smaller and smaller and smaller
You dream of a small cabin in the wilderness
your brother shows up and an attacking bear
in another dream I am well and busy and happy
May all your dreams come true
my love
if you really want them to
Discover and re-discover Mexicoβs cuisine, culture and history through the recipes, backyard stories and other interesting findings of an expatriate in Canada
Engaging in some lyrical athletics whilst painting pictures with words and pounding the pavement. I run; blog; write poetry; chase after my kids & drink coffee.
Refugees welcome - FlΓΌchtlinge willkommen I am teaching German to refugees. Ich unterrichte geflΓΌchtete Menschen in der deutschen Sprache. I am writing this blog in English and German because my friends speak English and German. Ich schreibe auf Deutsch und Englisch, weil meine Freunde Deutsch und Englisch sprechen.
KO Rural Mad As Hell Blog 
You must be logged in to post a comment.