Beautiful. Your artwork actually reminds me of my wife's. The landscape of hers you saw is not typical. She does a lot of expressive stuff like yours. Sorry it took me so long to check out your Substack, Beth! 🩷
No problem, Don! Thanks for checking out my Substack; I really appreciate you. I would love to see more of your wife's work. She's really talented. I do paint a fair number of landscapes, too. I just enjoy the flow that art evokes, no matter what I'm painting.
Beth, another brave and bold essay. Thank you for sharing here as always. I can't imagine what it must be like to live where guilt is haunting your joy of living--stealing away precious moments of thriving fully. Thank you for articulating it here and for sharing your powerful painting! May you continue to prosper and go forward sharing your talent, your words, your paintings, your vision, your powerful and beautiful essence. May you always be blessed.
Thank you so much, Gerry, for your kind comment and your beautiful wishes for me. I admit, I don't feel guilty 24/7, but I do have bad moments. I am very glad to be alive and generally live a joyful life, but when I think about the vibrant people lost to this disease, I do feel guilt pangs. And I need to feel this, as it helps me cope with the tragedy that is cancer.
I so appreciate your comment, and I appreciate you!
I'm wiping away the tear that fell on my cheek as I read this. Thank you for sharing your experience with us.
My mom had cancer and people told her the stupidest things. It's amazing how thoughtless people can really be, how the lack of empathy is rampant. I'm sorry you had to hear those things.
The dumb comments you shared elicited an audible 'Oh My God' from my lips. And I love the painting. The cooler colors are gorgeous against the blue fabric. Your heart led your hand to create exactly the 'right' brushstrokes. I see a lot of symbolism in the painting, but I'm keeping it to myself because it just seems more tender.
I'm so glad you love the painting, and I savor how you put it, "Your heart led your hand to create exactly the 'right' brushstrokes." I think it's fine that you are keeping your interpretation of the painting to yourself. With this series, I'm trying to keep it so people can see whatever symbols they see fit.
As a former oncology nurse and treading through the backside of severe burnout/moral injury, I feel this. Thank you for sharing your vulnerability and truths. It is truly the fabric that holds us together as community and as humans trying to maneuver these messy meat suits. ❤️
Thank you for your comment, and I'm glad you found my blog. I have heard from other former oncology nurses about burnout, and I cannot imagine how so very difficult such a profession is.
Just know that you and other oncology nurses have helped so many cancer patients, and we so appreciate all of you. My oncology nurse was kind, humane, and approachable. She knew I was doing chemotherapy alone, and she sat with me through so much of my chemo treatments -- despite how busy she was with other patients. She made me feel special.
Well, by now you know how I feel about those annoying platitudes. I've written about that topic many times. I get that people don't know what to say. But...
I'm sorry you've experienced all those losses and have suffered from survivor's guilt. I relate. There have been so many losses in the online breast cancer community. Our hearts get broken over and over again. I remember your earlier beautiful piece about your dear friend Faun. What a special friendship and painful loss.
For me, there is, of course, my mother. My diagnosis was very similar to hers. So yes, I've asked the question more than a few times - why did she die and not me? It all goes back to that randomness. Cancer is randomly cruel.
And yet, I don't deal with a whole lot of survivor guilt. The words I included in my book, EMERGING, are words I truly believe and live by: "All we have is today. We have to make the most of it. After all, living our best lives is how we honor those who don't survive."
Those words have become one of my mantras.
And your painting - I love it. The blue fabric looks fabulous, yes. But the figure is haunting, mysterious, and beautiful. You've captured something really special, so it's no wonder you just knew it was finished. Great job!
Thanks for yet another honest, raw article. Same goes for the painting, too.
Ah, those annoying platitudes. Horrible stuff, for sure. I like the way you frame cancer as "randomly cruel." You are completely spot-on.
I'm sorry your mom died of this cruel, horrific disease. Cancer robs us of our loved ones. And, yes, those losses of our online friends just keep adding up.
I really love Emerging. It is a fantastic book, and thank you for reminding me of that quote. Yes, living well is definitely how we honor those who lost their lives to this disease. I will do my best to re-remember these wise words.
And thank you, thank you, thank you for your kind words about my painting. This means a lot to me. The blue fabric was a real miracle. Can't believe I did that, and I'm pleased. I so appreciate your feedback, my friend.
I am so sorry that you’ve had to endure all this loss with the burden of knowing it could be you. That is a heavy load to carry. I don’t think people who have never had cancer can fully grasp what that is like to live with survivor’s guilt. Expression of those feelings are clear in your artwork.
The floating in space and without facial features captures so much about that uncertain feeling, the lack of hands reads to me as powerlessness, or having the inability to steer the ship in a direction of certainty. I love your paintings in this series. They are powerful and beautiful.
As far as the fabric, it looks great! No you are not a one hit wonder. The more you do this, the better and easier it will become!
Hi Alene, thank you so much for your supportive comment. Survivor's guilt is definitely an aspect of trauma.
I love your interpretation of the painting. Yes, she can certainly be feeling powerless and uncertain in this world. And thank you for your high compliment about my art series.
And thanks for the kudos on the fabric I did. I will continue trying.
As I approach 20 years as a survivor ( including one recurrence) I get what you are saying in this post. I used to have a list of women of teal on my blog. It reached the point that too many women I knew diagnosed with ovarian cancer were in the Remember column and not in the Honor column any longer that I dropped that page all together. I love the painting with the blue blanket .
Thank you for your kind words about my painting. I so appreciate them.
I can understand why you dropped the page with the list of women of teal. It is so difficult psychologically to cope with the loss of so many women. I find it so painful to hover over the list of the deceased. I often feel so powerless.
I am grateful you survived almost 20 years. Thank you for your thoughtful comment.
As an almost 14 year survivor, I so get your post. It totally resonates with me and thank you and I like your art I came to your site through my friend Alene.
I love the depth and comfort that the blue blanket lends to the painting; as if the woman found that perfect place to rest upon something that could soothe the edges of her suffering. And I love your courage, Beth-- by that I mean taking the pain of survivors guilt and letting it lead you back to your painting, your desire to make meaning with art that feeds the soul. Forever will you inspire my heart.
I love your interpretation of the painting, that the woman is resting to somewhat ease her suffering. I can totally relate to reaching for whatever comforted me during diagnosis, treatment, and the post-treatment emotional and physical fallout.
I started writing about survivor's guilt in my journal (you are inspiring me to make journaling a daily habit) and felt the topic needed more treatment on my Substack. I had no idea it would lead to my revising this painting. Thank you for saying I'm courageous. I never thought of it that way before.
I so appreciate your readership, as well as your beautiful writing.
Outstanding painting, Beth, and yes, the blanket looks terrific. I know what you mean when you say you're not sure if you can replicate it. I do that in my cooking -- I try a little bit of this and that, I don't make notes, my husband loves it, and asks for me to make it again sometime. Oops, I'm not sure if I can.
I'm so glad you enjoy my painting! I felt really good creating the blanket; it fit right into the vision I had for the painting, and oddly, I didn't struggle with it. And yes, before I consider myself a fabric-painting expert (LOL), I'd better do some more paintings of fabric.
Wow, you sound like an awesome cook. I totally understand that if you don't make notes, a dish might be difficult to replicate. It seems you have a natural cooking sense, though. I bet your attempt at the same dish will be successful!
"Why am I glad I lived?" That question you posed, Beth, chills me. It's a sentiment so human, yet so taboo. It’s the flipside of survivor's guilt, a tangled knot of conflicting emotions. I appreciate you putting it into words because it’s something I think so many survivors must grapple with but feel they can't voice. We’re “supposed” to be simply grateful, purely joyful, but your honesty peels back the layers to show the complex emotions beneath. It's brave to admit that joy can be laced with a feeling that is almost betrayal. And by putting that feeling into words, you give others permission to do the same and to confront their inner battles, which makes you more relatable than you know.
Thank you so much for your thoughtful comment. Yes, when I think of it, that chilling question seems like it shouldn't be in my thoughts, but truthfully, it is. You describe the feeling as "almost betrayal," and you totally get what I am experiencing. I feel horribly selfish when I raise that question of why I'm glad that I lived.
But it's the truth.
I so wish I could be completely joyful to have lived through and past cancer. But it's fraught with so many emotions hitting me all at once. It's hard to grapple with all of this, but I live each day one day at a time. That helps. That, and of course, art.
I just love this painting. You know I love this whole series and it made me so happy to see this new one. It’s beautiful.
Here’s my interpretation. Floating on the blanket, she has been exalted as some kind of otherworldly goddess figure simply for having survived cancer. Of course, this is a burden, for she is not truly seen as her authentic human self. People do not see her face because they choose to see a mythical heroine rather than her true self. Her face is downcast because she feels unseen.
Thank you so much for your high compliment. This means so much to me, and it means a lot to me that it resonated with you and that you are loving the entire series.
Your interpretation is simply wonderful. I love it. And your interpretation has so much truth to it. I believe that so many people think of breast cancer survivors as having done something heroic, when all we did was try to save our lives.
Thank you for your thoughtful comment. You are absolutely right; people use platitudes, perhaps, because they are uncomfortable and at a loss for what to say.
Beautiful. Your artwork actually reminds me of my wife's. The landscape of hers you saw is not typical. She does a lot of expressive stuff like yours. Sorry it took me so long to check out your Substack, Beth! 🩷
No problem, Don! Thanks for checking out my Substack; I really appreciate you. I would love to see more of your wife's work. She's really talented. I do paint a fair number of landscapes, too. I just enjoy the flow that art evokes, no matter what I'm painting.
Beth, another brave and bold essay. Thank you for sharing here as always. I can't imagine what it must be like to live where guilt is haunting your joy of living--stealing away precious moments of thriving fully. Thank you for articulating it here and for sharing your powerful painting! May you continue to prosper and go forward sharing your talent, your words, your paintings, your vision, your powerful and beautiful essence. May you always be blessed.
Thank you so much, Gerry, for your kind comment and your beautiful wishes for me. I admit, I don't feel guilty 24/7, but I do have bad moments. I am very glad to be alive and generally live a joyful life, but when I think about the vibrant people lost to this disease, I do feel guilt pangs. And I need to feel this, as it helps me cope with the tragedy that is cancer.
I so appreciate your comment, and I appreciate you!
I'm wiping away the tear that fell on my cheek as I read this. Thank you for sharing your experience with us.
My mom had cancer and people told her the stupidest things. It's amazing how thoughtless people can really be, how the lack of empathy is rampant. I'm sorry you had to hear those things.
I'm grateful for your writing.
Hi Sam,
Thank you so much for your comment.
Yes, people say the dumbest things to those who have/have had cancer. I'm sorry your mom had to hear these things, as well.
I'm grateful for your readership. Thank you!
The dumb comments you shared elicited an audible 'Oh My God' from my lips. And I love the painting. The cooler colors are gorgeous against the blue fabric. Your heart led your hand to create exactly the 'right' brushstrokes. I see a lot of symbolism in the painting, but I'm keeping it to myself because it just seems more tender.
Hi Dawn,
Isn't it amazing the stupid stuff people say?
I'm so glad you love the painting, and I savor how you put it, "Your heart led your hand to create exactly the 'right' brushstrokes." I think it's fine that you are keeping your interpretation of the painting to yourself. With this series, I'm trying to keep it so people can see whatever symbols they see fit.
I appreciate your comment!
As a former oncology nurse and treading through the backside of severe burnout/moral injury, I feel this. Thank you for sharing your vulnerability and truths. It is truly the fabric that holds us together as community and as humans trying to maneuver these messy meat suits. ❤️
Hi Tonya,
Thank you for your comment, and I'm glad you found my blog. I have heard from other former oncology nurses about burnout, and I cannot imagine how so very difficult such a profession is.
Just know that you and other oncology nurses have helped so many cancer patients, and we so appreciate all of you. My oncology nurse was kind, humane, and approachable. She knew I was doing chemotherapy alone, and she sat with me through so much of my chemo treatments -- despite how busy she was with other patients. She made me feel special.
Hi Beth,
Well, by now you know how I feel about those annoying platitudes. I've written about that topic many times. I get that people don't know what to say. But...
I'm sorry you've experienced all those losses and have suffered from survivor's guilt. I relate. There have been so many losses in the online breast cancer community. Our hearts get broken over and over again. I remember your earlier beautiful piece about your dear friend Faun. What a special friendship and painful loss.
For me, there is, of course, my mother. My diagnosis was very similar to hers. So yes, I've asked the question more than a few times - why did she die and not me? It all goes back to that randomness. Cancer is randomly cruel.
And yet, I don't deal with a whole lot of survivor guilt. The words I included in my book, EMERGING, are words I truly believe and live by: "All we have is today. We have to make the most of it. After all, living our best lives is how we honor those who don't survive."
Those words have become one of my mantras.
And your painting - I love it. The blue fabric looks fabulous, yes. But the figure is haunting, mysterious, and beautiful. You've captured something really special, so it's no wonder you just knew it was finished. Great job!
Thanks for yet another honest, raw article. Same goes for the painting, too.
Hi Nancy,
Ah, those annoying platitudes. Horrible stuff, for sure. I like the way you frame cancer as "randomly cruel." You are completely spot-on.
I'm sorry your mom died of this cruel, horrific disease. Cancer robs us of our loved ones. And, yes, those losses of our online friends just keep adding up.
I really love Emerging. It is a fantastic book, and thank you for reminding me of that quote. Yes, living well is definitely how we honor those who lost their lives to this disease. I will do my best to re-remember these wise words.
And thank you, thank you, thank you for your kind words about my painting. This means a lot to me. The blue fabric was a real miracle. Can't believe I did that, and I'm pleased. I so appreciate your feedback, my friend.
Yes! Thank you for calling out those infuriatingly empty phrases. I've heard them all, and they truly miss the mark.
Yes, they absolutely miss the mark. I think we who have had breast cancer have heard it all, for sure. Thank you for your comment, Marie!
I am so sorry that you’ve had to endure all this loss with the burden of knowing it could be you. That is a heavy load to carry. I don’t think people who have never had cancer can fully grasp what that is like to live with survivor’s guilt. Expression of those feelings are clear in your artwork.
The floating in space and without facial features captures so much about that uncertain feeling, the lack of hands reads to me as powerlessness, or having the inability to steer the ship in a direction of certainty. I love your paintings in this series. They are powerful and beautiful.
As far as the fabric, it looks great! No you are not a one hit wonder. The more you do this, the better and easier it will become!
Hi Alene, thank you so much for your supportive comment. Survivor's guilt is definitely an aspect of trauma.
I love your interpretation of the painting. Yes, she can certainly be feeling powerless and uncertain in this world. And thank you for your high compliment about my art series.
And thanks for the kudos on the fabric I did. I will continue trying.
As I approach 20 years as a survivor ( including one recurrence) I get what you are saying in this post. I used to have a list of women of teal on my blog. It reached the point that too many women I knew diagnosed with ovarian cancer were in the Remember column and not in the Honor column any longer that I dropped that page all together. I love the painting with the blue blanket .
Hi Dee,
Thank you for your kind words about my painting. I so appreciate them.
I can understand why you dropped the page with the list of women of teal. It is so difficult psychologically to cope with the loss of so many women. I find it so painful to hover over the list of the deceased. I often feel so powerless.
I am grateful you survived almost 20 years. Thank you for your thoughtful comment.
As an almost 14 year survivor, I so get your post. It totally resonates with me and thank you and I like your art I came to your site through my friend Alene.
Carla,
I'm so glad you are enjoying my art. Alene is a wonderful person and a terrific artist! Thank you for visiting my Substack.
Congratulations on 14 years of surviving, and I'm glad the post resonates with you. Survivor's guilt is a real thing that can plague us to no end.
I love the depth and comfort that the blue blanket lends to the painting; as if the woman found that perfect place to rest upon something that could soothe the edges of her suffering. And I love your courage, Beth-- by that I mean taking the pain of survivors guilt and letting it lead you back to your painting, your desire to make meaning with art that feeds the soul. Forever will you inspire my heart.
Hi Stephanie,
I love your interpretation of the painting, that the woman is resting to somewhat ease her suffering. I can totally relate to reaching for whatever comforted me during diagnosis, treatment, and the post-treatment emotional and physical fallout.
I started writing about survivor's guilt in my journal (you are inspiring me to make journaling a daily habit) and felt the topic needed more treatment on my Substack. I had no idea it would lead to my revising this painting. Thank you for saying I'm courageous. I never thought of it that way before.
I so appreciate your readership, as well as your beautiful writing.
Outstanding painting, Beth, and yes, the blanket looks terrific. I know what you mean when you say you're not sure if you can replicate it. I do that in my cooking -- I try a little bit of this and that, I don't make notes, my husband loves it, and asks for me to make it again sometime. Oops, I'm not sure if I can.
Hi Nancy,
I'm so glad you enjoy my painting! I felt really good creating the blanket; it fit right into the vision I had for the painting, and oddly, I didn't struggle with it. And yes, before I consider myself a fabric-painting expert (LOL), I'd better do some more paintings of fabric.
Wow, you sound like an awesome cook. I totally understand that if you don't make notes, a dish might be difficult to replicate. It seems you have a natural cooking sense, though. I bet your attempt at the same dish will be successful!
"Why am I glad I lived?" That question you posed, Beth, chills me. It's a sentiment so human, yet so taboo. It’s the flipside of survivor's guilt, a tangled knot of conflicting emotions. I appreciate you putting it into words because it’s something I think so many survivors must grapple with but feel they can't voice. We’re “supposed” to be simply grateful, purely joyful, but your honesty peels back the layers to show the complex emotions beneath. It's brave to admit that joy can be laced with a feeling that is almost betrayal. And by putting that feeling into words, you give others permission to do the same and to confront their inner battles, which makes you more relatable than you know.
Hi Alex,
Thank you so much for your thoughtful comment. Yes, when I think of it, that chilling question seems like it shouldn't be in my thoughts, but truthfully, it is. You describe the feeling as "almost betrayal," and you totally get what I am experiencing. I feel horribly selfish when I raise that question of why I'm glad that I lived.
But it's the truth.
I so wish I could be completely joyful to have lived through and past cancer. But it's fraught with so many emotions hitting me all at once. It's hard to grapple with all of this, but I live each day one day at a time. That helps. That, and of course, art.
I just love this painting. You know I love this whole series and it made me so happy to see this new one. It’s beautiful.
Here’s my interpretation. Floating on the blanket, she has been exalted as some kind of otherworldly goddess figure simply for having survived cancer. Of course, this is a burden, for she is not truly seen as her authentic human self. People do not see her face because they choose to see a mythical heroine rather than her true self. Her face is downcast because she feels unseen.
Hi Eileen,
Thank you so much for your high compliment. This means so much to me, and it means a lot to me that it resonated with you and that you are loving the entire series.
Your interpretation is simply wonderful. I love it. And your interpretation has so much truth to it. I believe that so many people think of breast cancer survivors as having done something heroic, when all we did was try to save our lives.
I think people don't know what to say, then use redundant platitudes. Sending much love. 💞💞💞
Hi Rea,
Thank you for your thoughtful comment. You are absolutely right; people use platitudes, perhaps, because they are uncomfortable and at a loss for what to say.