“It’s good to be seen”

My dad loved to make fun of convention. He had some really good lines, but by far my favorite was his response when people said “It’s good to see you”.  His reply was: “It’s good to be seen”.

I always thought he was being bumptious (a great word that means self-assertive or proud to an irritating degree), but later I realized that it IS good to be seen! We need to be seen! We want to be seen! It is a basic necessity for us to be seen, recognized, accepted and loved by others.

nude woman seatedAnyone suffering from negative body image may disagree, at least sometimes. I know I’ve wanted to hide when the focus on my imperfect body, or tired face, or whatever my mind was stuck on at the time, made it hard to go forth and happily be part of the world. And so it became urgent to learn to look at myself with love. Self-portraiture helped me accept myself over time, as well as offering workshops and accompanying others in this process. Drawing others also helps to see the beauty in every body, and the practice of live model drawing is a great way see many other bodies, just the way they are.

With gratitude and respect, I will continue to share some drawings I have done of other people here as well as my self portraits, in order to highlight the beauty of every body.  Lately I have had the opportunity to photograph and draw on commission several women who wanted to undertake the process with direct accompaniment and support. These experiences were very rich, and I am happy to be able to offer the possibility to purchase portraits of your body that I can draw  from your photos. Proceeds from these portraits go to supporting this process of helping people learn to see themselves more lovingly. Perhaps, through someone else’s eyes, you will see your own body differently and agree that you are perfect just the way you are, and, that it’s good be seen.

For those who know how bad it gets

I am posting this in the “Self-love” category because self-love is what self-loathing screams for.  And self-love is possible, at first perhaps only fleetingly, but with time and nurturing, it grows. (…oh yes, and did I ever mention that drawing yourself can help? )

If you’ve suffered from an eating disorder, addictions, a handicap, illness – mental or physical – or any other major emotional challenge that makes you less than glowingly in adoration of yourself (to say the least!), then you know what I’m talking about. Sometimes it gets really bad. But it’s always better when it’s expressed. When kept inside, it rots and festers.

rough sketch of sad nude woman looking down      sketch of nude woman with writing about dissatisfaction with herself and her body

I found this drawing stashed away in a drawer, and just knew I had to share it, not because it’s awesome but because it’s so real. And I am glad to say that this vision of things is not my only reality anymore, there are many more good days than bad ones, but sometimes the bad ones come back to remind me to keep up the good work 🙂

Apologies for the fuzzy cell phone photos, but trust me, you don’t really want to read all the nasty things I was writing about myself… hopefully you’ll get the gist that it was an angry rant against my apparent lack of worth. Not your typical shiny Instagram-worthy content, and yet I post it hoping that someone else who hears these mad words in their mind will see with a little distance how hurtful we can be to ourselves at our worst. And that better days always come around if we can find a little compassion for ourselves and see deeper than the surface. Our bodies are our best friends… it’s our minds we must train to see ourselves more clearly.

Forever a work in progress

In this drawing I see me, about as real as it gets. After I traced the rough outline of my face from a photograph, I spent hours penciling in details and shading. Making hair look somewhat real takes time, but after years of experimenting, it’s no longer a pain, I like doing it. Drawing in great detail has turned into periods of calm contemplation that bring me peace.

I’m still learning how to draw. While I can copy photos with good results, it is something else to learn to sketch freehand, from life, to see the most important curves, lines and expressions that form a person, place or object. I’m also still learning how to see myself with the love and acceptance any human being truly deserves, yet which I would easily offer to someone else.

I’m learning to treat myself and my body with respect. One of the hardest things is committing to feeding myself in ways that give me energy, rather than weighing myself down with the kinds of foods that are really just a temporary escape from my fears; distractions with consequences.

I believe the worst part of an eating disorder is the self-sabotage we consciously and unconsciously inflict upon ourselves that keeps us down. Self-sabotage that goes way beyond what we eat, because it includes self-destructive thinking that keeps us from breaking out of the prison we’ve created and maintain in our own minds.

In this drawing I also see a woman who’s discouraged, exhausted by the self-hate, self-questioning, doubt and disdain she carries for herself. I see too, that at this point, she was starting to get ready to lay down her arms and stop fighting with herself, to finally take some more little steps to work towards freedom. Forever a work in progress…

Anastasia (series) – I

Anastasia and I were roommates only for a few months, but a close friendship grew from sharing about our food and weight issues.

Somehow, we quickly managed to breach a huge taboo by admitting that we both turned compulsively to food whenever we felt overwhelmed by the stress in our lives, and that authenticity created an instant bond between us.

Anastasia1

” We carry a terrible wound: alienation from our embodied life.

Your flesh shall become a great poem. “

                    – Walt Whitman

Bad about ourselves

In French there is an expression, mal dans ma peau, which translated literally means ‘’uncomfortable in my skin’’ or, according to Google translator, “bad about myself”. It’s an easy expression to remember for those who know how it feels to be not be at ease in your own skin; to live with relentless self-criticism, to constantly want to change things about your looks and about your body. For those who know what it’s like to not want to be you.

body image drawing practiceThis discomfort with our physical bodies ravages so many lives! If we seek an outside source to explain the problem, it is at least partially created by, and wholeheartedly encouraged by the beauty and fashion industries, but blaming them won’t change anything fast.

We have a better chance at changing ourselves from the inside out. Not changing our bodies, but the changing way we perceive our bodies. So how do we go about renewing the way we see ourselves?

Hold the plastic surgery, there are other options

It’s a long way home, as anyone with an eating disorder will tell you. It’s a long, slow process. Finding a supportive practice requires alot of outside help, but also a profound commitment to nurturing a new vision of ourselves from within. We have found drawing and photography to be incredibly helpful tools, but they must be practiced repeatedly, just like making healthy food choices on a regular basis, which we all know is a challenge in itself. We can’t reverse a lifetime of self-judgment in a minute; we need support and accompaniment to make lasting changes.

“To draw the body is to really look at what it is to be human, is to find the door to the heart and open it gently, allowing the light of love and truth into the darkest places. To draw yourself is to light a candle in the wind of fear, knowing that you can trust the process and finally let go of that harsh, judgmental, evaluating stare and simply see the beauty in being alive.” – Theresa

¨We’re all just walking each other home¨ ― Ram Dass

Speaking out, for ourselves, and for those who can’t 

One of the hardest aspects of any disorder; whether it be low self-esteem, anxiety and depression, addiction or troubled eating behaviours, is the desire to hide, to disappear, to isolate ourselves from the world and its ideals of beauty and success that we can’t seem to live up to. Learning to look at ourselves more gently, writing about our feelings and becoming more aware of the diversity of bodies that exist are positive ways to start breaking through the walls of silence that keep us trapped in self-loathing.

This invitation to practice photographing, drawing, and to writing about how you feel about your body is a call to arms to fight the body dissatisfaction that is so rampant in our society today, to speak up, out and against the perception that we must change and improve ourselves to become worthy or lovable; to become something we’re not. By denouncing these lies we hope to take our lives back and learn to enjoy ourselves and our bodies and to help those still suffering from negative perspectives.

“I truly believe that every tiny act of acceptance and recognition of what is most vulnerable within us helps the entire world to reconnect to this peaceful place within.” – Marie

The role of a writer is not to say what we can all say, but what we are unable to say.” ― Anaïs Nin

Would you like to draw with us and share this journey of learning to love your body?

Art makes us see

My title today was inspired by a lovely quote by artist Paul Klee who said: “Art does not reproduce what we see. It makes us see”.

mad about my body blog

My attempt at making art today is showing me alot more than just how I feel about my body. It’s giving me insight into where the roadblocks to freedom and happiness exist inside me. I am trying with a respectful amount of sincerity and as much persistence as I can muster to paint with watercolors.

I ditched a beginners’ class years ago because I didn’t like the professor’s approach and am trying to learn by doing. Sometimes I like what I do, but I’m also facing some deeply ingrained reactions like fear and self-sabotage.  Fortunately, I guess, watercolor paper is too thick to ball up and throw across the room, but the very idea of wasting a sheet of paper seems like a failure. My brain is hard-wired in terms of success and failure. What am I learning from the process? That I am too self-critical, that color is beautiful, that a paintbrush is a tool of great tenderness, and that my attachment to results is killing all my fun.

How will I get past these blocks? By keeping on doing it, I guess. By refusing to buy into the self-sabotage in my mind. By taking a break and going for a walk and trying again. By reaffirming to myself that it’s not about results, that the practice is worthy in itself and that I will continue to learn from the process. By not quitting and not judging. Easier said than done; avoidance is much easier. Do you suffer from these types battles in your mind too when you attempt a creative process?

Sincere Self-exposure

If you want to be seen in this world, you have to seek exposure. Those seeking worldly success, fame, notoriety, have to promote themselves and their cause shamelessly to “get out there” and be seen.

But if you are shy, or suffer from self-doubt or low self-confidence and are still searching to find your way in the world, no matter how old you are, you may prefer to hang back or even hide rather than put yourself in the limelight.

No matter what we end up doing with our lives, the most important thing is to learn to be ourselves, accept ourselves and to be kind to ourselves. Easier said than done for someone with body image issues or for those who suffer from disordered eating and all the underlying pain that causes this behaviour.

These self-portraits are me looking at myself. Exposing myself to myself. Really looking closely for a change; not hiding from my perceived flaws. Sometimes seeing ourselves frankly staring back at our own bare face is even more confronting than seeing our unclothed bodies.

Although the drawings may appear pretty raw, this exercise was extremely liberating. I took the photos fresh out of the shower, unsmiling, when I was going through a rough period. I was very harsh on myself then, and I think the first drawing reflects that harshness.

But after putting in hours outlining and shading the first illustration, I was happily surprised to see how much softer the second drawing came out. Perhaps because I am not glaring at the camera like in the first one. It’s gentler; the gaze is more inwards and less confrontational. The first one seems to be challenging me looking back (at me!) with an attitude of “I’m ugly and I hate myself so what do you care?!?” whereas the second drawing reflects the mollifying effect of the artistic process.

In the second drawing I see myself with a rawness that is also very pure. It’s me at any age, at every age, me as a child, a woman, a mother. It’s me both weak and strong, both wonderful and worthy and ridiculously insecure.

It’s just me, and there is nobody else quite like me, so wouldn’t it be better if I learned to get along with myself?

In my face I see my children and I see my parents, and I also see the future vulnerability of old age, which I truly hope to reach, gently and peacefully. I see a life that deserves to be loved, just like every other human life.

The beauty in vulnerability

People say I draw well, and of course I appreciate hearing that. I love to draw, and I have put in alot of hours doing it, and we get better at anything we repeat. But being good at drawing is not the point of this blog. It’s about the process.

It’s about slowing down, taking the time to really look at the human body, your own or someone else’s. It’s about feeling what you feel and contemplating what you see. The overall picture, the details, and all that’s unseen. So many functions keeping us alive are completely invisible!

Drawing the body is the complete opposite of looking at yourself in the mirror and believing the fourteen critical thoughts that pop up in the first three seconds.

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In this image I see many things. This time it’s not a self-portrait, it’s of a friend. I was taking the photos. I remember the room we were in, the mood, her discomfort yet absolute determination to face her fears and do this, our laughter, and the sense of accomplishment we both had when the camera was put away and she dressed.

I see strength in this body, and I see light. In that frozen moment, I see something pure and tender that is not trying to hide or cover itself up or embellish itself in any way. I see the humility, the trust and the courage required to be vulnerable and be seen. While drawing, I did not see my friend’s ego, her personal issues or her health struggles, I just saw her, very simply, and I felt love and compassion.

I know that if she were to see the actual photograph, she would probably wince, like I do when seeing images of myself, and she would probably find something wrong with her body. I hope that when I show her the drawings made from that photoshoot, she’ll see the simple beauty that I saw as I drew.

Write to us at madaboutmybody@gmail.com if you’d like to try this practice.  We can correspond to coach you on how to do an easy photoshoot, or supply silhouettes of bodies similar to yours that you can trace from and then draw, colour, or paint. Everyone can get something out of this process, even if you have never drawn in your life.

Better, but forever in recovery

Recovery is a hopeful word, but it remains a distant destination in my mind. It is neither an achievement nor an arrival. At least not for me.

I have been working on my “stuff” for many years, but I cannot honestly say I am recovered.  I still fall back into my eating disorder. I still fall back into the false visions I have of my body, of myself. Not as often as I used to, not as violently as I used to, but I still fall.  I still fail. But I keep getting back up and trying again. It is simply what my life is, and if I want there to be an underlying purpose, then that’s why I’m here, to share what helps me, just in case it can help you too.

Drawing myself, my face, but in particular my body, brings me peace. Why is that? Because part of my problem is an off-the-charts striving for perfection as well as an inability to clearly recognize my  own strengths and weaknesses. Drawing my face, unsmiling, unmade-up, and drawing myself (or another person) nude connects me to what is vulnerable, to what is fragile and tender, to what is raw and real. It brings me back into contact with the frailness of humanity but also to a very pure animal-like strength. It moves me closer to myself in an unaccessorized, unromanticised way. It helps me to see myself as I am. Both strong and weak, resilient and vulnerable. Not all one or the other, but a mix of many shades in between. It brings depth to my shallow desire to appear impeccably put together.

In the past I have been ambiguous about sharing this work and these drawings, but not any more. I share the work in case it can inspire just one other person to pick up a pencil and give it a try, and perhaps find some peace there too. I share these drawings freely now because they don’t really belong to me, they just kind of come through me as I hold pencil to paper. As I draw, a sense of detachment grows in the translation from photograph to drawing. As I work on the image, there comes a point when it’s no longer me, my body, my scars, my curves. It’s just a drawing, of a woman, at that age, at that weight, with that attitude or composure or lack thereof. This erasure of identity brings a universality to the image that allows me to step back and have compassion for the person I see, even if it started out as me and everything that was wrong with me.

I ate much too much of too many of the things that don’t make me feel good today, and yesterday as well. I guess because I am struggling inside, because I am not aligned enough with myself to find  inner peace. Sometimes I think this sense of imbalance can’t be avoided or even controlled; as if the disordered eating swings the pendulum back, because when I am doing well, I start to think I am invincible. It’s as if falling backwards is somehow simply a quest for true balance. I could do without these ups and downs, but until I see clearly both my flaws and my finesses, I guess it will keep me drawing.

No artistic talent or experience are required for this process, just a willingness to face yourself and see something different than the you you are used to judging so harshly.

If you would like to draw with me, please let me know. We will find ways to do it together.  Write to me at madaboutmybody@gmail.com.

Hating my body until I choose to love it

…again, and again, and again.

It’s so easy to hate. Myself. It’s an ingrained habit, my baseline, my norm. Why? WTF???

What is there to hate? I am human, I am healthy, I am here in this world with a strong enough body that has served me immensely and was able to bring children into the world! I can see, hear, smell, taste, touch, sing and DANCE! So really, what’s there to hate? Yet I so easily fall back into the noisy criticisms about my looks, my weight, and my fears of what people think of me.

When I’ve really had enough, I get down on my knees and put my forehead on the floor  and stretch out my arms in the wonderful position that yoga calls “the child pose.”

Bodyinchildpose_raw

And I say a prayer and try hard to let go of all the ridiculous accusations coming from my mind that are making my life miserable. Sometimes drawing helps, sometimes it doesn’t. But I must admit, that most times, it does. Sometimes, I write on my drawings. I talk to myself through my writing, to change my ideas about my body. I affirm life and beauty and love. I don’t want to live in self hate-anymore. Enough.

Bodyinchildpose_writing

Really, what is there to hate… other than the painful disconnect between my thoughts about how things should be, about how I should be, and the reality beyond thought that can only be experienced by getting out there and living, rather than waiting until I’m good enough?