On Gratitude and Grace

Image Credit: Gary Warren Niebuhr

Hello dear friends,

It has been about two weeks since I sent you the health update and admitted I needed help. The response has been more than a bit overwhelming, as you sent me messages via email, messenger, phone calls, texts, and drop in visits to my studio. Even more overwhelming, has been seeing the donations rolling in to the gofundme that my dear friend started  on my behalf, combined with all the notes of why the giver was responding. Notes from strangers, notes from friends, notes from former students and art buyers, studio neighbors and long lost acquaintances.

In the initial outpouring, when the post first went public, I was so taken aback by the things you all were saying to me, and the generosity you were showering me with, that I needed to pull inward to process it. I couldn't read a single message without bursting into tears. I spent days reading and sobbing, feeling my insides receiving it all in a shocked sort of disbelief. I confided to my friend that I was at a complete loss for words. I had no idea what to say. And in her no-nonsense sisterly way, she replied "most people just say thank you."

Thank you. These two little words sound so simple. They easily roll off our tongue to the cashier in the check out line, or after a stranger holds open the door. Such a simple gesture of gratitude we've been trained to offer from the day we first learned to talk. But in that moment all I could think, was thank you felt so inadequate. There just didn't seem to be adequate words to convey how deeply, profoundly moved I was in the receiving of so much attention and praise.

Even now, just now, typing those last words "and praise", made me squirm. So much so, that I deleted them and retyped them twice. What is it about the receiving of so many testimonies about how much my writing, teaching, friendship, or art has meant to you that has me feeling so uncomfortable? Why can't I hear such words and let them have the soft landing you intended for them to make?

Hearing my friend's words "most people just say thank you", spoken so casually that they were hardly a breath, made me sit up and take notice. Suddenly it struck me that it has nothing to do with feeling the profound gratitude that I do feel for this showering of your love, but had everything to do with feeling worthy of it.

It wasn't that the words "thank you" felt inadequate, but that I felt inadequate. It is so much easier to be on the giving side of grace then the receiving of it. In my head, I know people respond because they care. I too have donated to many gofundme campaigns and fundraisers over the years and have never felt anything buy genuine concern for the person or people in need. It is in my wiring to nurture, care for, lift up and encourage others. But I never realized how much of that wiring had gotten mixed up over the years. How much I believed that you deserved it, but I didn't.

I don't say any of this in order to have you reassure me that it's okay. I share it with you because I think many of you can relate. We have catchy little phrases that we quip during the holidays like "it's better to give than to receive" and mostly when we say these things, we mean that the warm fuzzy feelings we get by being kind to another person is in itself a gift.

But there are so many of us who use these phrases like armor without even thinking about it. We grew up never truly experiencing what it was like to expect to receive unconditionally. We approach exciting opportunities with words like "don't get your hopes up" because we don't really believe that hope is a thing that we are allowed to have for ourselves. We take in good news and sit waiting for "the other shoe to drop" because "bad luck always comes in threes."

Recently I read a post by Richard Rohr in which he explained that humans experience transformation in life in two major ways, through great trials and great love. I have done some very hard and very transformative work over the years through the experience of great trials. I've shared much of these things with all of you too, as it is so connected to the art that I make. Yet in this season, suddenly I am feeling a shift - Yes, I've had plenty of transformative experiences through great trials, now thanks to all of you, I am opening to the possibility of a transformative experience through great love.

And the greatest of these things is love.

I guess all that is left to say now, is thank you.  

With so much love and gratitude.

Crystal♥

A Health Update (originally posted to my Facebook account April 26, 2019)

A recent post from my Facebook account, that I'd like to share with you here.  This one was posted April 26, 2019

I want to thank each and every one of you who responded to my post yesterday. The outpouring of love and support has lifted me in ways that I can't begin to explain. It is an extremely vulnerable act to admit the need for help and to show one's weaknesses in such a public way, and the decision to do so was a process.

I've promised you a health update after all the tests and lab reports came in. To share this in such a public way has also been a process to be ready.

The official diagnosis is a rare disease called Systemic Mastocytosis. In a nutshell, Systemic Mastocytosis means the mast cells in my body are abnormally increased in multiple organs including the bone marrow. It's a small couple of sentences for an illness that has had a huge impact on my quality of life. It is a sudden deeper dive into the Chronic Lyme I've been battling since my early twenties, though was only just properly diagnosed with about three years ago.

For me, the genetic lottery of chronic illness begins with a genetic mutation called the HLA_DR gene which prevents my body from properly identifying toxins and eliminating them. So I get exposed to Lyme and I can't recover from it. I get exposed to mold and the mycotoxins stay in my system wreaking havoc. I get an infection or virus of any kind and the toxic load just continues to build. When my body could not handle the assault on its system any longer the mast cells started reacting to everything.

Everything is making me sick. Not just the fore-named obvious toxins, but benign things like changes in temperature, physical labor and emotional stress, odors – be they toxic, chemical, or natural, and foods – oh my god, all the foods I can no longer eat, even simple pleasures like sitting in the sun, or taking a walk, or working late in the studio. The disease has done damage to just about every organ system. The symptoms are wide and varied.

There is no known cure or direct treatment. The disease is progressive, with each major toxic exposure or new virus I'm exposed to creating a new baseline and elevated symptoms. Mastocytosis is graded in stages, from indolent – which means your prognosis is a fairly normal, if not very high quality, life span with slow disease progression, to the other extreme of masto-leukemia with only a few months expected after diagnosis. I will be undergoing more testing to better determine where I'm at, but based on current tests and symptoms, it looks to be aggressive.

Aggressive masto has an average of 4 years. 41 months actually. 41 months.

I'll be seeing a specialist in May and I have another appointment scheduled with THE Specialist in November. One will begin scheduling tests like a bone marrow biopsy and the other specializes in mast cell diseases and is also an endocrinologist, which is important to my case as I have no thyroid.

To add to this already difficult to tell you about story, a few other things are going on in my life that I have not shared with many people. After years and much hard work on our marriage, my husband and I have separated. I won't elaborate on that much right now, other than to say, I am now living alone.

And I am also displaced. 

One of the major triggers for mast cell flare ups is mold toxins and I could tell that I was having a reaction every time I was in the house that I just moved into, so I had the air tested and it came back positive for mold. There is no good way to remediate a house to make it safe enough for a masto patient to stay in that isn't expensive and time consuming. I am staying at a friends house temporarily and had to make the difficult decision in the midst of all of this to ask the landlord to break my lease and move again after only three months there.

That is the long and the short of it. It all seems like a bad dream that I can't wake up from.

Being able to make a living as an artist, selling my work, writing, and teaching workshops has been a tremendous blessing in providing an income. The teaching part has connected me to so many of you. And it has always been something that feeds my soul, the part where we connect. The parts where you light up in class. The parts where you exclaim that you got so much more than techniques from my class. The parts where we have soul deep discussions and I see you get teary eyed in your seat, and the letters and emails you write me afterwards. But it has also been costly to me physically.

It used to be that I could put everything I had into teaching a workshop and then allow myself a day or two to recover afterwards. Over the past few years it started taking longer to regain my strength, and now – it just isn't happening. I am in a rapid spiral. I am spending more and more time in bed, more and more of my life is consumed with pain, twisting muscles, and exhaustion.

Indescribable pain and exhaustion. I've known for a while that I would eventually need to make the shift from teaching in person to teaching online courses, but there never seemed to be enough time to do the work required to produce the content. I no longer have the luxury of that choice.

I am committed to finishing up my teaching schedule for 2019, and have one tentatively booked in March of 2020. I am not throwing in the towel here, but I am no longer beating myself up for not being strong enough to push through this. I've actually made it worse by denying myself in this way. I would never treat a friend the way I have treated my own body and self. Getting mad for not being able to power through. Calling myself names like lazy and unmotivated.

Dammit – when I really stopped, well when this disease stopped me, it took having my wise counselor saying to me over and over “Crystal, stop and really look at yourself. You cannot do this alone.” I kept arguing that I had no choice. I am alone. I just am!

There are full length mirrors on the closet doors here at my friends house and I stood naked in front of them one morning after that session. I could see my front and back in all it’s glory. I am not just thin, I am emaciated. My entire skeleton shows and my skin hangs in big saggy layers where muscle and fat used to be. My chest is sunk inwards and my breasts are completely empty- tiny uneven skin bags. If I were more brave I might take a picture- it is startling to see.

But I don’t need to take a picture to know the truth of what the mirror is showing me and what it means. I can't do this alone. I don't think I was ever meant to.

Those messages can get in deep – the ones that propel us to self deny. It's been a long and slow process of awakening to it for me. I know I have some gifts to offer this world. My writing, my teaching, my art, they aren't going away. But I am entering that place of acceptance, that what I thought it looked like to use them, and what I am actually capable of are not the same. I am leaning in hard here to listen and I have faith that the way will open and when it does, I will follow. But I am in the thick of it, the loosening of my grip of denial and the turning to step into what really is.

For me part of that turning looks like telling you all that I need help. I cannot do this alone. And yes, I know that God is with me. I know that faith can move mountains. I know that He heals and I can give it to Him and all of that. Yes, I do know. But I also know that He did not ever intend for me to do this without other people. Leaning on Him does not mean hiding this from you.

So if you've stuck with me and read this far, first of all thank you. Thank you for just being willing to be a witness to what I am going through. And if you are willing, able, or at all desire to help, here are some ways you might consider:

For local friends and family, I need help packing, I am looking at an apartment on Sunday, but I may have to put my things in storage if I don't find a place right away. Right now I cannot even fathom mustering enough energy to pack and move. I won't be able to begin until mid-May, but if you can spare part of your day when I do, for the first time, I won't say no to that help.

If you've ever considered signing up for a workshop, now is the time. You can find the schedule with links to register for each one on my blog at this link: https://otherpeoplesflowers.blogspot.com/p/my-workshops.html

If you are a fan of my art, you might consider purchasing – I have a series of small works that I'll begin listing over the weekend in a pop up sale online at this link *pop up shop is now live. There are also other small to mid sized pieces listed there: https://squareup.com/store/crystal-neubauer-artist/

Larger works can be viewed on my website at this link and I can assist you in connecting with any of the galleries listed there if you are interested in one of these pieces: https://crystalneubauer.com/home.html

And finally, my dear friend Jana has started a gofundme to raise money to get me in the best position possible to deal with all of this. I weep even thinking about the generosity from Jana and her husband Jeff, along with those who are already contributing. As my medical and related expenses increase, along with my need to drastically change my teaching schedule to allow myself the margin to take care of myself and begin producing online courses for future income, this is beyond a godsend: https://www.gofundme.com/f/support-crystal-marie-neubauer

Thank you Jana Freeman and all of you who have already come forward. And so many others. My friend Rebecca Stahr and her husband for housing me, my beautiful family – my children who have had to rise to so many challenges in their own lives. My mom, NancyandKeith Carter who has her entire church and friends network lifting me in prayer. My dearest friends who are giving me strength to stand here and share all of this with you. Even my husband, Larry who will no longer be my husband, but remains my friend and co-doggie parent. So many people in my life already have stepped up, and spoken up, and shown me how much I am loved.

How could I ever have thought I was in this alone? Seriously I don't know why it took this to prove that I am not. I can't even wrap my head around it right now. And I thank you. I don't know what else to say now, except thank you. Thank you. With so much gratitude. Thank you.

“Our filament of light is carried in the frailest human form, until our acceptance of both storm and silence ushers us into the Fifth Season, where the glare is gone and only the color of things as they are can reach us. Perhaps this is the central work of being human. I’m not sure. I’m just inspired to lean more fully into life, to listen a bit further, to welcome the bareness of being when I stumble into it. But I believe if we can lean on each other from time to time, we can put down all we’re carrying and help ready each other for the Heavenly Pivot.” ~Mark Nepo, 7000 Ways To Listen

I want to thank each and every one of you who responded to my post yesterday. The outpouring of love and support has lifted me in ways that I can't begin to explain. It is an extremely vulnerable act to admit the need for help and to show one's weaknesses in such a public way, and the decision to do so was a process.

I've promised you a health update after all the tests and lab reports came in. To share this in such a public way has also been a process to be ready.

The official diagnosis is a rare disease called Systemic Mastocytosis. In a nutshell, Systemic Mastocytosis means the mast cells in my body are abnormally increased in multiple organs including the bone marrow. It's a small couple of sentences for an illness that has had a huge impact on my quality of life. It is a sudden deeper dive into the Chronic Lyme I've been battling since my early twenties, though was only just properly diagnosed with about three years ago.

For me, the genetic lottery of chronic illness begins with a genetic mutation called the HLA_DR gene which prevents my body from properly identifying toxins and eliminating them. So I get exposed to Lyme and I can't recover from it. I get exposed to mold and the mycotoxins stay in my system wreaking havoc. I get an infection or virus of any kind and the toxic load just continues to build. When my body could not handle the assault on its system any longer the mast cells started reacting to everything.

Everything is making me sick. Not just the fore-named obvious toxins, but benign things like changes in temperature, physical labor and emotional stress, odors – be they toxic, chemical, or natural, and foods – oh my god, all the foods I can no longer eat, even simple pleasures like sitting in the sun, or taking a walk, or working late in the studio. The disease has done damage to just about every organ system. The symptoms are wide and varied.

There is no known cure or direct treatment. The disease is progressive, with each major toxic exposure or new virus I'm exposed to creating a new baseline and elevated symptoms. Mastocytosis is graded in stages, from indolent – which means your prognosis is a fairly normal, if not very high quality, life span with slow disease progression, to the other extreme of masto-leukemia with only a few months expected after diagnosis. I will be undergoing more testing to better determine where I'm at, but based on current tests and symptoms, it looks to be aggressive.

Aggressive masto has an average of 4 years. 41 months actually. 41 months.

I'll be seeing a specialist in May and I have another appointment scheduled with THE Specialist in November. One will begin scheduling tests like a bone marrow biopsy and the other specializes in mast cell diseases and is also an endocrinologist, which is important to my case as I have no thyroid.

To add to this already difficult to tell you about story, a few other things are going on in my life that I have not shared with many people. After years and much hard work on our marriage, my husband and I have separated. I won't elaborate on that much right now, other than to say, I am now living alone.

And I am also displaced.
One of the major triggers for mast cell flare ups is mold toxins and I could tell that I was having a reaction every time I was in the house that I just moved into, so I had the air tested and it came back positive for mold. There is no good way to remediate a house to make it safe enough for a masto patient to stay in that isn't expensive and time consuming. I am staying at a friends house temporarily and had to make the difficult decision in the midst of all of this to ask the landlord to break my lease and move again after only three months there.

That is the long and the short of it. It all seems like a bad dream that I can't wake up from.

Being able to make a living as an artist, selling my work, writing, and teaching workshops has been a tremendous blessing in providing an income. The teaching part has connected me to so many of you. And it has always been something that feeds my soul, the part where we connect. The parts where you light up in class. The parts where you exclaim that you got so much more than techniques from my class. The parts where we have soul deep discussions and I see you get teary eyed in your seat, and the letters and emails you write me afterwards. But it has also been costly to me physically.

It used to be that I could put everything I had into teaching a workshop and then allow myself a day or two to recover afterwards. Over the past few years it started taking longer to regain my strength, and now – it just isn't happening. I am in a rapid spiral. I am spending more and more time in bed, more and more of my life is consumed with pain, twisting muscles, and exhaustion.

Indescribable pain and exhaustion. I've known for a while that I would eventually need to make the shift from teaching in person to teaching online courses, but there never seemed to be enough time to do the work required to produce the content. I no longer have the luxury of that choice.

I am committed to finishing up my teaching schedule for 2019, and have one tentatively booked in March of 2020. I am not throwing in the towel here, but I am no longer beating myself up for not being strong enough to push through this. I've actually made it worse by denying myself in this way. I would never treat a friend the way I have treated my own body and self. Getting mad for not being able to power through. Calling myself names like lazy and unmotivated.

Dammit – when I really stopped, well when this disease stopped me, it took having my wise counselor saying to me over and over “Crystal, stop and really look at yourself. You cannot do this alone.” I kept arguing that I had no choice. I am alone. I just am!

There are full length mirrors on the closet doors here at my friends house and I stood naked in front of them one morning after that session. I could see my front and back in all it’s glory. I am not just thin, I am emaciated. My entire skeleton shows and my skin hangs in big saggy layers where muscle and fat used to be. My chest is sunk inwards and my breasts are completely empty- tiny uneven skin bags. If I were more brave I might take a picture- it is startling to see.

But I don’t need to take a picture to know the truth of what the mirror is showing me and what it means. I can't do this alone. I don't think I was ever meant to.

Those messages can get in deep – the ones that propel us to self deny. It's been a long and slow process of awakening to it for me. I know I have some gifts to offer this world. My writing, my teaching, my art, they aren't going away. But I am entering that place of acceptance, that what I thought it looked like to use them, and what I am actually capable of are not the same. I am leaning in hard here to listen and I have faith that the way will open and when it does, I will follow. But I am in the thick of it, the loosening of my grip of denial and the turning to step into what really is.

For me part of that turning looks like telling you all that I need help. I cannot do this alone. And yes, I know that God is with me. I know that faith can move mountains. I know that He heals and I can give it to Him and all of that. Yes, I do know. But I also know that He did not ever intend for me to do this without other people. Leaning on Him does not mean hiding this from you.

So if you've stuck with me and read this far, first of all thank you. Thank you for just being willing to be a witness to what I am going through. And if you are willing, able, or at all desire to help, here are some ways you might consider:

For local friends and family, I need help packing, I am looking at an apartment on Sunday, but I may have to put my things in storage if I don't find a place right away. Right now I cannot even fathom mustering enough energy to pack and move. I won't be able to begin until mid-May, but if you can spare part of your day when I do, for the first time, I won't say no to that help.

If you've ever considered signing up for a workshop, now is the time. You can find the schedule with links to register for each one on my blog at this link: https://otherpeoplesflowers.blogspot.com/p/my-workshops.html

If you are a fan of my art, you might consider purchasing – I have a series of small works that I'll begin listing over the weekend in a pop up sale online at this link. There are also other small to mid sized pieces listed there: https://squareup.com/store/crystal-neubauer-artist/

Larger works can be viewed on my website at this link and I can assist you in connecting with any of the galleries listed there if you are interested in one of these pieces: https://crystalneubauer.com/home.html

And finally, my dear friend Jana has started a gofundme to raise money to get me in the best position possible to deal with all of this. I weep even thinking about the generosity from Jana and her husband Jeff, along with those who are already contributing. As my medical and related expenses increase, along with my need to drastically change my teaching schedule to allow myself the margin to take care of myself and begin producing online courses for future income, this is beyond a godsend: https://www.gofundme.com/f/support-crystal-marie-neubauer

Thank you Jana Freeman and all of you who have already come forward. And so many others. My friend Rebecca Stahr and her husband for housing me, my beautiful family – my children who have had to rise to so many challenges in their own lives. My mom, NancyandKeith Carter who has her entire church and friends network lifting me in prayer. My dearest friends who are giving me strength to stand here and share all of this with you. Even my husband, Larry who will no longer be my husband, but remains my friend and co-doggie parent. So many people in my life already have stepped up, and spoken up, and shown me how much I am loved.

How could I ever have thought I was in this alone? Seriously I don't know why it took this to prove that I am not. I can't even wrap my head around it right now. And I thank you. I don't know what else to say now, except thank you. Thank you. With so much gratitude. Thank you.

“Our filament of light is carried in the frailest human form, until our acceptance of both storm and silence ushers us into the Fifth Season, where the glare is gone and only the color of things as they are can reach us. Perhaps this is the central work of being human. I’m not sure. I’m just inspired to lean more fully into life, to listen a bit further, to welcome the bareness of being when I stumble into it. But I believe if we can lean on each other from time to time, we can put down all we’re carrying and help ready each other for the Heavenly Pivot.” ~Mark Nepo, 7000 Ways To Listen

I want to thank each and every one of you who responded to my post yesterday. The outpouring of love and support has lifted me in ways that I can't begin to explain. It is an extremely vulnerable act to admit the need for help and to show one's weaknesses in such a public way, and the decision to do so was a process.

I've promised you a health update after all the tests and lab reports came in. To share this in such a public way has also been a process to be ready.

The official diagnosis is a rare disease called Systemic Mastocytosis. In a nutshell, Systemic Mastocytosis means the mast cells in my body are abnormally increased in multiple organs including the bone marrow. It's a small couple of sentences for an illness that has had a huge impact on my quality of life. It is a sudden deeper dive into the Chronic Lyme I've been battling since my early twenties, though was only just properly diagnosed with about three years ago.

For me, the genetic lottery of chronic illness begins with a genetic mutation called the HLA_DR gene which prevents my body from properly identifying toxins and eliminating them. So I get exposed to Lyme and I can't recover from it. I get exposed to mold and the mycotoxins stay in my system wreaking havoc. I get an infection or virus of any kind and the toxic load just continues to build. When my body could not handle the assault on its system any longer the mast cells started reacting to everything.

Everything is making me sick. Not just the fore-named obvious toxins, but benign things like changes in temperature, physical labor and emotional stress, odors – be they toxic, chemical, or natural, and foods – oh my god, all the foods I can no longer eat, even simple pleasures like sitting in the sun, or taking a walk, or working late in the studio. The disease has done damage to just about every organ system. The symptoms are wide and varied.

There is no known cure or direct treatment. The disease is progressive, with each major toxic exposure or new virus I'm exposed to creating a new baseline and elevated symptoms. Mastocytosis is graded in stages, from indolent – which means your prognosis is a fairly normal, if not very high quality, life span with slow disease progression, to the other extreme of masto-leukemia with only a few months expected after diagnosis. I will be undergoing more testing to better determine where I'm at, but based on current tests and symptoms, it looks to be aggressive.

Aggressive masto has an average of 4 years. 41 months actually. 41 months.

I'll be seeing a specialist in May and I have another appointment scheduled with THE Specialist in November. One will begin scheduling tests like a bone marrow biopsy and the other specializes in mast cell diseases and is also an endocrinologist, which is important to my case as I have no thyroid.

To add to this already difficult to tell you about story, a few other things are going on in my life that I have not shared with many people. After years and much hard work on our marriage, my husband and I have separated. I won't elaborate on that much right now, other than to say, I am now living alone.

And I am also displaced.
One of the major triggers for mast cell flare ups is mold toxins and I could tell that I was having a reaction every time I was in the house that I just moved into, so I had the air tested and it came back positive for mold. There is no good way to remediate a house to make it safe enough for a masto patient to stay in that isn't expensive and time consuming. I am staying at a friends house temporarily and had to make the difficult decision in the midst of all of this to ask the landlord to break my lease and move again after only three months there.

That is the long and the short of it. It all seems like a bad dream that I can't wake up from.

Being able to make a living as an artist, selling my work, writing, and teaching workshops has been a tremendous blessing in providing an income. The teaching part has connected me to so many of you. And it has always been something that feeds my soul, the part where we connect. The parts where you light up in class. The parts where you exclaim that you got so much more than techniques from my class. The parts where we have soul deep discussions and I see you get teary eyed in your seat, and the letters and emails you write me afterwards. But it has also been costly to me physically.

It used to be that I could put everything I had into teaching a workshop and then allow myself a day or two to recover afterwards. Over the past few years it started taking longer to regain my strength, and now – it just isn't happening. I am in a rapid spiral. I am spending more and more time in bed, more and more of my life is consumed with pain, twisting muscles, and exhaustion.

Indescribable pain and exhaustion. I've known for a while that I would eventually need to make the shift from teaching in person to teaching online courses, but there never seemed to be enough time to do the work required to produce the content. I no longer have the luxury of that choice.

I am committed to finishing up my teaching schedule for 2019, and have one tentatively booked in March of 2020. I am not throwing in the towel here, but I am no longer beating myself up for not being strong enough to push through this. I've actually made it worse by denying myself in this way. I would never treat a friend the way I have treated my own body and self. Getting mad for not being able to power through. Calling myself names like lazy and unmotivated.

Dammit – when I really stopped, well when this disease stopped me, it took having my wise counselor saying to me over and over “Crystal, stop and really look at yourself. You cannot do this alone.” I kept arguing that I had no choice. I am alone. I just am!

There are full length mirrors on the closet doors here at my friends house and I stood naked in front of them one morning after that session. I could see my front and back in all it’s glory. I am not just thin, I am emaciated. My entire skeleton shows and my skin hangs in big saggy layers where muscle and fat used to be. My chest is sunk inwards and my breasts are completely empty- tiny uneven skin bags. If I were more brave I might take a picture- it is startling to see.

But I don’t need to take a picture to know the truth of what the mirror is showing me and what it means. I can't do this alone. I don't think I was ever meant to.

Those messages can get in deep – the ones that propel us to self deny. It's been a long and slow process of awakening to it for me. I know I have some gifts to offer this world. My writing, my teaching, my art, they aren't going away. But I am entering that place of acceptance, that what I thought it looked like to use them, and what I am actually capable of are not the same. I am leaning in hard here to listen and I have faith that the way will open and when it does, I will follow. But I am in the thick of it, the loosening of my grip of denial and the turning to step into what really is.

For me part of that turning looks like telling you all that I need help. I cannot do this alone. And yes, I know that God is with me. I know that faith can move mountains. I know that He heals and I can give it to Him and all of that. Yes, I do know. But I also know that He did not ever intend for me to do this without other people. Leaning on Him does not mean hiding this from you.

So if you've stuck with me and read this far, first of all thank you. Thank you for just being willing to be a witness to what I am going through. And if you are willing, able, or at all desire to help, here are some ways you might consider:

For local friends and family, I need help packing, I am looking at an apartment on Sunday, but I may have to put my things in storage if I don't find a place right away. Right now I cannot even fathom mustering enough energy to pack and move. I won't be able to begin until mid-May, but if you can spare part of your day when I do, for the first time, I won't say no to that help.

If you've ever considered signing up for a workshop, now is the time. You can find the schedule with links to register for each one on my blog at this link: https://otherpeoplesflowers.blogspot.com/p/my-workshops.html

If you are a fan of my art, you might consider purchasing – I have a series of small works that I'll begin listing over the weekend in a pop up sale online at this link. There are also other small to mid sized pieces listed there: https://squareup.com/store/crystal-neubauer-artist/

Larger works can be viewed on my website at this link and I can assist you in connecting with any of the galleries listed there if you are interested in one of these pieces: https://crystalneubauer.com/home.html

And finally, my dear friend Jana has started a gofundme to raise money to get me in the best position possible to deal with all of this. I weep even thinking about the generosity from Jana and her husband Jeff, along with those who are already contributing. As my medical and related expenses increase, along with my need to drastically change my teaching schedule to allow myself the margin to take care of myself and begin producing online courses for future income, this is beyond a godsend: https://www.gofundme.com/f/support-crystal-marie-neubauer

Thank you Jana Freeman and all of you who have already come forward. And so many others. My friend Rebecca Stahr and her husband for housing me, my beautiful family – my children who have had to rise to so many challenges in their own lives. My mom, NancyandKeith Carter who has her entire church and friends network lifting me in prayer. My dearest friends who are giving me strength to stand here and share all of this with you. Even my husband, Larry who will no longer be my husband, but remains my friend and co-doggie parent. So many people in my life already have stepped up, and spoken up, and shown me how much I am loved.

How could I ever have thought I was in this alone? Seriously I don't know why it took this to prove that I am not. I can't even wrap my head around it right now. And I thank you. I don't know what else to say now, except thank you. Thank you. With so much gratitude. Thank you.

“Our filament of light is carried in the frailest human form, until our acceptance of both storm and silence ushers us into the Fifth Season, where the glare is gone and only the color of things as they are can reach us. Perhaps this is the central work of being human. I’m not sure. I’m just inspired to lean more fully into life, to listen a bit further, to welcome the bareness of being when I stumble into it. But I believe if we can lean on each other from time to time, we can put down all we’re carrying and help ready each other for the Heavenly Pivot.” ~Mark Nepo, 7000 Ways To Listen

Tough As A Mother (post from my facebook account April 25, 2019)

A recent post from my Facebook account, that I'd like to share with you here. I'll be adding a few more throughout the day. This one was posted April 25, 2019

I bought this shirt because it spoke to me about the trials I've endured in my life and the circumstances I'm currently going through. I took this picture with the thought of posting it to assure you all that my outward circumstances won't defeat me. That on the outside I may be weak, but on the inside I am strong. I am a fighter. I wanted to tell you that so you wouldn't be concerned about me. Because I've been wired to believe I'm responsible for how everyone else is feeling, and my innate thinking pattern goes along the lines of believing it is unseemly to call attention to my own needs. That having a need that I can't manage behind the scenes on my own makes me weak, and reads as playing the victim. 

Can any of you relate?

See, I told you all last month that I've rapidly lost a great deal of weight and that I'm working with my doctor to determine the cause. And then this past week, I updated my profile picture to one taken on Easter Sunday with my beautiful granddaughter, who is among the biggest joys of my life, because it made me happy. And then I heard from many of you concerned at the dramatic change in my appearance, and even concerned that I had allowed myself to be seen like this. 

So I thought I needed to reassure you all that everything is going to be okay. Don't be alarmed. Don't worry about me. Look, I'm tough! 

But the truth is, that even now, even yet today, I am learning that what makes us tough isn't hiding ourselves from other people. It isn't the ability to go it alone and not be a burden on anyone else ever. What actually makes us tough is allowing ourselves to be seen in the hard places. In the middle of the storms of life. What makes us strong isn't our determination to power through our circumstances so that no one else is inconvenienced or upset. What actually makes us tough is the ability to say I need you. In our most vulnerable, exposed and raw places. To allow ourselves to stay connected to each other, rather than to close up and wall off to protect ourselves from exposure and the judgement or discomfort of others. 

A health update is coming, but today I am sharing this picture and practicing saying I need you, and I am grateful that you are there.

So THAT'S Why It's Worth So Much!

"So that's why it costs so much?"     "No, that's why it's WORTH so much."

Yesterday I ran across a post announcing a 3-day workshop taught by a collage artist I greatly admire, whose style is distinctly different then my own. As I read the workshop description with interest, dreaming of making room in my schedule and budget to treat myself to study under this artist's tutelage, I came to the registration page and had a little shock. It was close to twice the cost of the average three day art workshop!

My first thought was one of surprise, but then I found myself calculating the entire cost of a trip like that. One where I might be able to rationalize the several hundred extra dollars for the event in relevance to what I was sure I might gain if I went.

And oh how much I wanted to go!

The chance to get an inside glimpse into the practice of an internationally recognized professional, working on a level that I currently aspire to. To learn techniques so different from my own, to have the opportunity to sit on the other side of the classroom table and glean from the instructor’s wealth of accumulated knowledge, and vast experience making art and selling it. Getting to sit side by side with other students who often bring their own fresh perspective and invaluable tips to a class environment like this. And let’s face it, as an artistic introvert, taking a workshop is my idea of a good vacation. It’s structured and organized, I get to enjoy the creative process in a pressure free zone, and still leave myself a few days to go out and explore the area while I’m there.

I didn’t wind up enrolling due to a conflict in my schedule, but the process of researching and mulling it over got me to thinking about some of the questions I’ve been receiving as my own spring teaching schedule draws near. Questions that sometimes directly, sometimes not, imply a lack of understanding of how a workshop fee is calculated and why it can be different from one location to the next, or even from one instructor to the next.

Why, you might be thinking, does it cost so much? 

It feels a little taboo to be talking about it out loud like this. And I could go on and on explaining the things that I'm privy to that the student doesn't necessarily get to see – like the difference in overhead between being hosted by an art center, or a private studio. Or the behind the scenes costs of a major art conference or retreat vs teaching at a small indie shop. I could share how much out-of-pocket is involved for the artist in each situation, for supplies, equipment, liability insurance, shipping, and travel. Students are often surprised when I tell them that my transportation costs are rarely covered by the host, and oftentimes lodging isn't included in my contract either-especially at those larger art centers and conferences. I could share that these costs don't change for me regardless of whether we have the minimum number of students enrolled or the maximum, but that my compensation changes according to the number of seats filled.

And I could share that, like many full time artists, I don't have a safety net or another source of income to support myself, so I carefully plan my budget in advance to be able to offer any early bird discounts or holiday type special offers.

I could even tell you how much work goes into creating a class and marketing it – sometimes well over a year in advance – (my 2020 schedule is shaping up to be very exciting), the number of hours required to apply, fill out contracts, create interesting content, correspond with the host site, student inquiries, record keeping of enrollment, accounting, sending out yet another 1099. Making samples, ordering supplies, keeping up with it all on social media, and last minute exchange of details with the host site, or directly with the students so everyone winds up exactly where they are supposed to be with everything they need to have a great time, all the while starting the whole process over again for the following years schedule. 

In between all of this, as a full time artist, I am also developing new ideas, working on upcoming shows, applying for opportunities, grants, fellowships, learning techniques that I need to help my own practice. When I don't create and grow, I have nothing new to show for it and nothing new to offer you. 

I could tell you all of these things, really I just did. But I know that this isn't the thing that you necessarily need to understand when making the decision to register for a class, parting with your own hard earned dollars, dipping into your own reserves of time, energy, and resources.

Last month I was listening to the radio, when the newscaster exclaimed how much cheaper it was to go see a particular team play this year due to whatever loss they had endured the year before- now tickets were “only selling for about $200 each instead of the usual $500 for a tournament."

Only $200 to sit in the bleachers for a couple of hours watching a game? What a bargain! (read sarcastically). I'm not a sports fan, the cost of these bargain rate tickets sounded astronomical to me. But people pay it everyday. Hundreds of people. Thousands even. Sports stands full of them!

Maybe you aren't a sports fan either. You may be totally tracking with me on that one, but think about the amount of money we humans are willing to spend to be entertained – sports, music concerts, going to the theater or opera, etc. We work hard and we just want to relax and enjoy ourselves sometimes. 

It's a big booming industry, the entertainment world is.

Most of these events are designed for us to participate in a very passive sort of way – cheering for our team, or band, or favorite cast members. We walk away with a souvenir program, a ticket stub, some very fine memories, and if we are lucky, an autograph or two, after only a few hours that went by all too fast.

But when you take an art workshop, you get so much more than passive entertainment.

You get personal interaction with an artist whose style and experience you admire and appreciate. You get to glean from that experience, asking questions while watching their process up close and personal. You make fun new connections in a relatively small group of people. You'll laugh and have fun, you'll walk away with a work of art or two that you yourself get to create, and you will also leave with some very fine memories. The event itself will last several hours, or even days, longer than a football game. And most importantly, you'll leave with a working knowledge of new techniques and a budding confidence in your own abilities to create. A good instructor will inspire you to grow in your own practice, whether you choose to pursue it professionally or as a hobby. There is nothing passive about the value of learning a new skill. 

And THAT, my friends, is why an art workshop is worth so much. ♥

Recap From SOFA Expo Chicago 2018

I wrote the following post last weekend as a post on Facebook and Instagram, where I received an overwhelming amount of feedback and encouragement, a great majority of which was from other artists who could relate to what I shared. It is a raw and honest look at where I landed after the experience at SOFA and how it impacted me. I thought my blog readers might appreciate reading about it too, so I am reposting it here:

"I’m still processing my experience at SOFA Expo Chicago last weekend. On the one hand, it was an experience of a lifetime to be there after a decade of attending the show as a spectator/dreamer. On the other hand, I did not have any sales, nor did the majority of the artists in the area around me. Many of them with years of experience at this particular show with outstanding sales in the years past

There were a number of contributing factors; the show was under new management, the floor plan was not as open, traffic did not flow well on the end of the hall I was on. Our gallery was given individual small booth stalls rather then the single large gallery space they’ve had in the past- which proved most difficult for people to comfortably view the work, and the buzz in the air that tension over the impending election was causing uncertainty in the buying crowd- overall sales across the entire show were down.

All of the above, and more, were factors outside of my control. It’s impossible to plan for all the variables and all had nothing to do with the art. And yet. And yet....

I’ve never participated in a show before where I didn’t at least make my investment back. And usually that investment would afford me a profit plus a career benefit of future opportunities making the risk highly worthwhile.

Many of you have followed my journey preparing for this show, but you may not have realized just how much an artist has to invest of their own resources. Yes, the show is oriented to galleries and being repped by one is the only way to get in, but many of these galleries are unable to foot the 80-100k bill alone, so the artist contributes financially to the space their art will cover. Like most of what we do as career artists, and not unlike any other small business owner or entrepreneur, we invest a great deal up front and work very hard to generate enough income from that investment to keep going.

We not only have to sell our work, but we sell our image, we sell our stories, we sell our love and passion. We polish and refine and practice our statement, and we happily share what we do with you, the interested viewer and potential collector.

Making the art is only a small fraction of what it takes to be an artist.

People are often surprised to hear that our studio time is not where we expend most of our efforts. And somehow never quite grasp the risk involved in doing this job. It all seems so glamorous from the outside.

Much of that risk really is outside of my control. And yet...

In my logical brain, the side that was meant to analyze, and decipher, and process information, I can take a step back and still feel good about what I created and the fact that I was given such a tremendous opportunity to begin with. It knows the variables it can change, and those it had nothing to do with. In my logical brain, it is a business, it’s not personal. But that logical brain is at war with the vulnerable creative brain- The one that poured its whole self into these canvases and feels raw and achy, as if hanging its very soul on the wall for you to judge.

As much as we artists do create because we just need to create. We also need to eat and pay our bills and keep the lights on like everyone else. It can be damned exhausting to do this work. The energy and time and money it takes.

This experience was a little like being drafted into the NFL and then spending the first season sitting on the bench. Okay, I hate sports and have no idea if that’s an appropriate analogy, but it’s what keeps coming to mind. Will there be a next season for me?

Honestly I’m still in recovery mode and right now I feel more than a little discouraged. For the first time in many years, I’ve entertained the idea of going back to a traditional job. And I’m not at all sure my health would sustain it. Not the most encouraging post I’ve shared in a while, but it’s the reality in my life right now.

That picture of the cape wearing baby in the mix? That’s my granddaughter whom I was babysitting during the weekend of the show. I committed to watching her for her momma and daddy before I knew there would be a scheduling conflict. So I even sacrificed my time with her to be at SOFA, spending overnights as Grammy in charge and tag teaming by day with her Yia-yia and Aunties.

As an artist I am always weighing the cost of any particular endeavor compared to the potential benefit. There is always a risk, a gamble involved. Multiple streams of revenue would be my answer to how I manage if you were to ask. But multiple streams of energy and time don’t always match. And multiple streams can have dry spells all at the same time as well.

I’m grateful for all that I’ve experienced and achieved. Grateful for all the love and encouragement I’ve received. And grateful, even, to have a bit of a legacy to leave for my grands, even if it’s just a bit.

But today I have to admit, I am tired.