Turn away

I’ve seen several pictures of things that have really disturbed me recently, and rather than just turn away again, I’ve decided to meditate on exactly what I find repulsive about these pictures. This is part of my recent decision to be more mindful. It is not an easy practice, but it is necessary for being fully conscious and aware of my actions.

These images aren’t things that people normally would turn away from, such as violence or abuse for instance. Those are abhorrent as well, of course. What I’m writing about here are images of people who are in ICU, hooked up to machines and tubes. I never gave it a second thought as to why I was repulsed until I saw a video about a machine that can keep a heart alive outside of the body in preparation for transplant. That tipped the scales.

What disturbs me about it is not exactly the same as what disturbs me about the ICU pictures, but it is a good thing to start with. The donor was dead, as far as doctors could determine. The brain had ceased functioning. The heart had been removed, and rather than keep it on ice as was normally done in a transplant situation, it was hooked up to a machine that replicated the environment inside the chest. It was kept humid and warm, with blood circulating through it. This heart was beating just like a normal heart, but it was inside a plastic box. There was no person attached.

I also saw a video of two mothers who had a strange connection. Mother A had a young child who had suddenly died due to trauma. She had decided to donate his organs. Mother B’s child had received his heart. They met three years later and mother A used a stethoscope to hear the heart of her son beating inside the chest of Mother B’s daughter. It was supposed to be a touching video, but I was really disturbed. Something seemed deeply wrong about this.

I kept being triggered by these images. I decided to examine the original related triggers – images of people in ICU. I don’t seek these out – people share them sometimes on social media as part of a story.

One was about a new mother who had been in an accident and the nurse brought her child to her so she could breastfeed her child. While the person who posted it was pointing out the value of breastfeeding, it was very disturbing. The mother was not present in any form other than her body. She was not being helped to breastfeed. The nurse put the child to her breast and that was it.

I look at a sketching website every day, and today there was one of a man in ICU. The sketcher even commented about it, wondering if it was ethically correct to sketch such a thing. He did not mention if he’d thought about the ethics of sharing it online as well.

I read something recently that speaks to all of this in a useful way.

There is a Jewish belief that it is improper to have an open casket. To do so is to violate the privacy of the person. It is also putting focus and attention on the wrong thing, as the “person” is not there – their soul has left. When there is just a body and not a soul, it is not a person. It is a shell, a husk. An open casket is an insult to the person who had inhabited that body, because they have no say over how they are seen. They have no control over what happens to them. They are fully exposed for the world to see and cannot do anything about it.

I think this is at the center of it all. To show pictures of people who are not at their best (to say it lightly) is to violate their rights. It is an invasion of privacy. It is embarrassing. To focus on body parts rather than the whole is equally unethical.

The lady’s son was no longer present. His heart was just a piece of muscle, doing a job. The heart in the box for transplant was moving as if it was alive, but as it was not attached to a person, it was simply the illusion of life. There was no soul in it. It was the same as looking at a machine.

Being mindful and considerate of others’ feelings also applies to not sharing pictures of people who have passed out from being drunk or are intoxicated to the point that they are unaware of their actions.

Remember the story of Noah and his sons?

Genesis 9:18-27
18 Noah’s sons who came out of the ark were Shem, Ham, and Japheth. Ham was the father of Canaan. 19 These three were Noah’s sons, and from them the whole earth was populated. 20 Noah, a man of the soil, was the first to plant a vineyard. 21 He drank some of the wine, became drunk, and uncovered himself inside his tent. 22 Ham, the father of Canaan, saw his father naked and told his two brothers outside. 23 Then Shem and Japheth took a cloak and placed it over both their shoulders, and walking backward, they covered their father’s nakedness. Their faces were turned away, and they did not see their father naked. 24 When Noah awoke from his drinking and learned what his youngest son had done to him, 25 he said: Canaan will be cursed. He will be the lowest of slaves to his brothers. 26 He also said: Praise the LORD, the God of Shem; Canaan will be his slave. 27 God will extend Japheth; he will dwell in the tents of Shem; Canaan will be his slave.

The son who saw him in his drunken state, unable to control himself, was cursed, along with his children. The two sons who covered him and made sure not to see him exposed were blessed.

This is the core teaching. To look at someone who is dead, or like dead (in ICU, or passed out due to intoxication) is an insult to their very being as a person. It is disrespectful. It is a violation of their privacy. It is the same as stripping someone naked. One might even go so far as to say it is equivalent to rape, as the person is treated as a thing and not as a person.

Lost time

Lost time 012016

Inspired by/things that came up during the creation –
Fungi, soy/wasabi leftovers, debris, passage of time, look close you might miss it, beauty in ugliness, things passed over.

(Close up)
Lost time 012016 close

Materials used –
6×9 piece of “Pacon” watercolor card stock
Glue stick
White crayon
Distress Ink – Rusty hinge, crusted olive
Dr. PH Martin’s Bombay sepia ink
“thirsty brush” technique
Toothbrush with water to spatter
Used salt (previously used in watercolor painting, reclaimed)
“Crushed glass” glitter
Water/paintbrush
Holographic nail polish
“gelly roll” white pen
Light blue “super gel” pen
Poured white acrylic paint mixed with water
Decoupage glue
Tim Holtz “idea-ology” clock pieces
Glamour glitz crystal

Made 1-19 to 1-20-16

Tiny things

I have a fascination with tiny things. I love studying the intricacies of beads, especially Botswana agate and ocean jasper. I love coming across flowers smaller than my fingernail, especially wildflowers of any sort. I love finding bugs that have amazing detail and are just as small.

Big and flashy things seem rude to me. They call attention to themselves. They overdo it. Huge baubles and immense flowers virtually yell “Look at me!” Now I can certainly respect a peony or a hydrangea, but I’ll never plant one. Oddly, I do like crepe myrtles, but perhaps part of that is they are part tree and part flower. Perhaps partly I love them because they are uniquely Southern. But when I think about it, their flowers are big bunches of tiny flowers. It isn’t one big flower getting all the attention.

I wonder if part of my love of tiny things comes from the fact that I have very bad eyesight. I see things better if they are right up in front of my nose. Perhaps part of it comes from beading, where I’d see amazing swirls and details on the sides of beads while creating a necklace. Sadly, the details were obscured once the design was created. Only I knew about the hidden beauty.

It is amazing to me to come across a tiny insect. Sometimes I’ll find a flying bug that is smaller than a quarter of my fingernail. It is intricate and perfect. It is hard to believe that it can even exist. When I find such a bug, I think God must be showing off, saying “Look what I can do!” This creature has a brain and eyes and stomach and wings all in such a small space. Tiny flowers are amazing, but tiny bugs are magic.

Perhaps it is human nature to compare everything to ourselves. It if it that tiny, it can’t possibly matter. It can’t possibly be important. But it is, and it does. And maybe there is something in that which needs to be noticed.