Pushing at the walls of my cage
Since I got past just surviving and moved into figuring out how to live this new life with MCS, I’ve taken to naming the years of my life since I got sick. Year one was “Sleeping on the couch”, year two was “Defining Boundaries”, and year three was “Anger. Now that we’re half way through year four I think I know what this one’s name is: “Pushing at the walls”.
Living with MCS I often feel trapped in a box or a cage, very much like the Canary we get called. The restrictions on where I can go or what I can do, so that I don’t get sick through exposure, leaving me feeling like a hermit on a good day and a prisoner on a bad day. Recently the walls of my cage have been feeling very restricting and in need of some remolding.
The first push at my walls seems to have come with my writing. After a long dry spell I am back to crafting both short stories and rituals and loving every minute of the process.
The second push came with the glitter clogs of doom ™ 
. These were followed by the realization that I’ve been basically been living in nothing by sweats and t-shirts for the last three years. That so needs to stop. I have some really lovely clothes, things I used to wear to conventions, performances, even occasionally for my day job. While I may not be able to do the same things now that I used to do, I am heartily tired of letting that dictate my clothing choices! So, the scummy clothes have officially been relegated to use only when I am working now (I tend to paint on my clothes), and the fun and shiny stuff is now out front. I still have my worn out and bad days, but I figure that’s what denim is for.
The third and biggest push against my walls began at the end of last month when I started taking a ceramics class. It has been years since I have been in an art class of any kind, and the last continuing ed class I tried taking was right as I was learning just how sick I was, more than four years ago.
Two friends of mine had been taking a ceramics class at a local city college and we started talking about the conditions of the class room, how much dust or chemicals there were in air (turns out there is an amazing air filter system and super high ceilings), class compliment and the styles of the different teachers. Taking my heart, and my lungs in my hands, I leapt, and haven’t looked back.
Class hasn’t been perfect. Like with any location outside of my house, I have to wear my mask and be careful. And with forty students in the class, I have to be very careful about where I actually do my work. The one day I goofed and sat up front for a lecture I was sick for days afterwards because it left me hemmed in by people coated in chemicals. I’ve had to make some adjustments to make sure I can get through the day. One of the friends who is also taking the class does the driving because by the time class is over, I have very little brain left, and I bring meds along with snacks and lots of water to class to boost my bodies ability to cope with what it’s being exposed to during the four hours in the studio. Even with all of that, I still end up crashing hard every day once I am home, which means I have been effectively losing three days a week to ceramics.
On the other hand, class has been amazing and worth every two hour post-class nap, extra pack of vitamins or antihistamine, and whiff of chemicals I have to put up with. I’ve been watching a lifetime of knowledge and experience pour out of my fingers, into a new medium, to form amazingly wonderful pieces of art. I feel like I have found the natural next step in my artistic process. Even more importantly I am getting to talk with other artists about art and process and life for the first time in years. Each conversation inspires me to try new things and look at my own work in new ways. Every day in the studio my heart, mind, and soul are filled with new ideas and an expanding level of hope and passion.
My main project for this semester has been to build part of the base for a Freyr doll that I am doing as a commission piece. The clay portion is a representation of the lower half of the World Tree of Norse from mythology with its three main roots reaching down into the lower realms and its trunk stretching up into the sky.
I think I am completely in love with doing ceramic sculpture, so much so that I haven’t even touch the wheel yet. And I already have half a dozen projects in mind for next semester, several of which are plans for dolls that I am redesigning to do in clay.
I still have walls around my life, but I think the box I have to live in to be safe finally has some breathing room inside.
Tags: canary, Ceramics, glitter, mcs, Multiple Chemical Sensitivity, walls, writing
