Last day to RSVP

Art Therapy Flyer August 1 2013 Falling to pieces by EHCato 1999 Last Day to RSVP For Artist Talk, hosted by me,Emily Sturgill. This will be a presentation based on real-life experiences living with mental illness. I have been living with bipolar disorder/manic-depression for just over 2 decades. I do not know everything about coping but I do know what’s helped me. Today is the last day to sign up. The talk is on Thursday August 1st in Pontiac MI.

I am not too sure if you know anybody who would be interested, but I am giving an Artist Talk on Recovery in Mental Health through the use of art-making. It is on August 1, 2013 at The Art Experience, 175 S. Saginaw Ste #109, Pontiac Mi from 7:00 pm-9:00 pm. There will be a personal presentation, followed by an Watercolor Resist Art Demo then a watercolor project for guests. Tickets are $20 per person and include supplies. Today is the last day to register. I just thought I would let you know in case you knew of anyone. I am attaching a flyer. I am hosting the event. People can register at :

Sorry for such short notice.

Picture 113 copy Art photos 1.17.13 024 IMG_20121228_161438 imaginary landscape print on linen paper WATERMARKED

Artwork various

old art and new 001 distortion in a compact 1 I want the job cartoon1 old art and new 002 old art and new 007 old art and new 009These are some of the drawings I put together as a last minute portfolio for a job interview at The Detroit Institute of Arts, last week. That was before the huge announcement that the city of Detroit was filing for chapter 9 bankruptcy. I did get an email yesterday saying I did not get the job. It would have been as a studio assistant, helping during art-making workshops at the DIA. I would have really loved it but they said no. All the artwork here-except-the cartoon about wanting a job-was part of my portfolio. there were other pieces too. I think I just do not have advanced enough technical drawing skills.

Depressed slightly

Yesterday, oh how I cried.

Huge horrible torrents of tears.

My husband did not know what to do-

he never really does, when I stumble

backwards into depression again.

My manias are easier for him to understand-

and he’s seen so many more of those-than this.

This black terror fit.

This wave crashing downwards upon me,

crushing me to the bone.

crushing me to my soul.

When I get like this, I cannot help myself;

I collapse in crying fits, jagged waves with razor teeth edges.

I cry so hard,  I barely make a sound-just this gasping breathe-this sobbing mess.

I realize, of course I have so many blessings.

I have a loving husband, for the most part a very happy marriage.

I have many friends. I have a roof over my head, bills are paid, food in the house.

5 lovely fur-pets. A beautiful house and backyard. Our backyard has wonderful

rose bushes.

But despite all the good-the depressions still sneak up upon me.

I cry for the have-nots.

I cry because I cannot find employment.

I have been looking over 18 months.

I cry because I have a history of miscarriages,

and infertility. I cry because I have mental illness, and

no matter how hard I try or which magic pills I swallow

I am still slightly crazy one day to the next.

I feel as though because I have been on disability so long…

that I have no worth as a person. I believe a job or a career

in many ways defines you, and for me? I have nothing but years of blank spaces.

I just recently finished a masters degree. Unfortunately, after I got it, I realized;

it is a slightly useless one. I should have gotten a counseling degree…

instead I got a masters of Education: major in art Ed with a core focus of art therapy.

As lovely as that sounds, nobody will hire me.

I do not even have a teaching certificate.

I owe a fortune in student loans…

This most recent hypomania-back at the end of may-

well it nailed me.

And now I’m spiraling downwards without a staircase.

Frustrations mount.

I struggle with broken-down-hands

to grab the gratitude, the blessings, the happiness

the optimism still there.

There is great love all around in this big beautiful world.

I need to find some deep inside myself, forgive my own

imperfections and share something pretty with the world.

At the edge

I sit here

at the edge.

Realizing that my life

is nearly half-over.

I just turned 39 roughly 8 weeks ago.

My concerns are much different

than the average Gal.

I’m blessed that genetically- i still get carded for things

I could easily pass for 20 something,

yet here i sit on the edge of 40.

Not many wrinkles, or even gray hairs-

none of that concerns me anyways.

My concern, is much more personal.

I feel like I have barely begun.

That I have not done much so far-in my life.

that I have so many dreams still to accomplish,

that I have yet to leave my mark or stamp on things.

that no one will remember me years hence

when I am gone.

It saddens me greatly-to have never had children.

I feel I have no legacy,

besides poetry and artwork,

and in times of twilight

those too will surely fade away.

I will be like the sand at the shore then.

The sand that goes in and out with the tide

disappearing at your feet

like it never was there really at all.

Marriage remains undefined

There is a crack,

in the door.

The door is ajar, slightly opened

and peering inside

two lovers are intertwined.

This is not a scene for mass consumption.

This is between a man and a woman.


However, it could also be between,

two men or two women.

For Love resides both in hearts and minds.

Love is not limited by gender.


A private moment-

a soft caress

a union of two becoming one.


Best in private.


The beauty of the thing,

is in its nature, it is normal and natural,

to Love.

Although some are not ready to open their hearts,

and give much of themselves-

Beyond words,

Beyond Beauty-

Beyond a doubt.

(written in memory of Tyler.)


Too cliche


the good ideas,

ran out yesterday.

How do I spin, something real, something poignant

and true?

It’s like spinning thread-

into gold.

It either works by Magic-

or you are in the wrong fairy tale altogether.

Mother cupboard-

her cupboard is bare, it’s barren, infertile.

bare to the bones-

bare to the touch.

All the good ideas ran out yesterday.

Once i dared, to stick out my hand

BUT in the end, the cliches stampeded me-

to the punchline.

Saving grace,

saving face

saying very little or anything,

original at all!

The purpose of

the poem itself-escapes me,

it eludes me-

it dislikes me.

As I go after it-chasing after it-like a rabid dog,

and nipping at its heels.

–All the good ideas ran out yesterday.

The Write Stuff

I feel like writing today,

yet I have no pearls of wisdom

noting fierce to say

nothing black or white

or in shades of gray…

just feeling the urge to write something today.


A poem begins with description

inscription, a collection of dusty old words

when once heard

flow together like a stream

of undiluted thoughts, like a river basin,

like a cluttered old kitchen sink.


Added together like a mathematical equation,

the simple geometry of saying the right thing

at the right time

slightly haunts me and gives me pause…


I feel like writing today.

I’m not too sure what will come of it,

or what I have to say?


I only know in my heart

that I tried to encompass a wide

range of emotions, fleeting thoughts and

vague imagery

in a small poetic refrain.


Writing poetry is a lot like chasing the Rain.

When the right words come it’s like a flood

of droplets too fast to catch but too many

to simply ignore. It’s enticing this word game,

deep down inside my head,

if I could pinpoint the root of it all-


If only i knew why?

I take so many words,

twist them up together

than toss them in the air-

just to see if they will fly?

Still time to RSVP Artist talk & Art Therapy Workshop

Art Therapy Flyer August 1 2013  On August 1,2013 which is a Thursday evening I will be hosting an Artist Talk on Mental Health and Recovery through Art-making. I will also do a short demo of 2 different watercolor techniques. Then guests will be invited to create their own watercolor artworks. Tickets are only $20 per person and include all supplies. They ask persons to please register in advance. The deadline is tomorrow night.

You can register by going to the studio’s website here:

There is still plenty of room available. Please feel free to leave comments if you would like to attend and need more info. This will be in Pontiac Mi. They will also have some of my chap-books for sale. If you buy one, I will sign it for you at no charge-only if you want though! 🙂

Kali-a Goddess Song

A hurricane sits

upon these hips,

as he watches her

strip-tease in the wildest fashion.


A hurricane sits

upon her lips

as she gazes lovingly

at her man.


With the flip of her wrist

she can unleash thunderstorms

and chaos if she chooses.

Or she can reach in the dark

for his hand

and claim it as her own.


A woman like this

is not easy to love

nor easy to hate


She is a force of nature

Something to be reckoned with

sung to, calmed down, and



She is like a symphony

which starts out slow but then

has a thundering crescendo.

A man like that

who can charm her, surround her with

friendship love life and flowers.

He is the essence of courage-

just as she is the essence of a storm.