As you’ve probably noticed, I haven’t blogged much lately. When I have blogged, the posts haven’t been too pleasant. Quite frankly, I should have realized what time of year it is, the effects of added emotional stresses recently, and how it’s all compounding into one rather depressing month.
I figured it out, though. At least, the root of it anyway. For the past week I’ve been preparing for No Toe Day – the anniversary of having my left big toe amputated. Today marked three years since it was taken at Johns Hopkins in Baltimore. I’ve attempted to turn the anniversary into something happy, something pleasant. After all, although having it amputated was no walk in the park, I know that I’m better now because of it. Every year on this date, I create a work of art that somehow involves my feet. It all started when, a week before the operation, I sat in my basement and was painting to try and alleviate my depression. That’s when the idea struck me that I’d better make an impression of my foot while it was still whole. I grabbed a canvas, smeared it with purple and blue paints, and then proceeded to paint the bottom of my foot. Standing up, I stomped my foot down on the canvas and left a permanent mark of my left big toe.
The year after, I repeated that project. I coated a canvas in the same colors, put paint all over the sole of my foot, and again left my mark. Only this time, I only had four digits rather than the usual five.
Last year, I created a series of photographs illustrating how I was finally able to go up on tip-toes after two years of pain and weakness. I created an online photo gallery and opened up my No Toe Art to anyone who cared to see it.
Throughout the past year, I’ve been preparing for this day. All year I’d been looking forward to my sculpture anniversary. Over and over in my head I planned how I would create a mold of my foot using casting material, then put the mold back together so that I could fill it with plaster. I wanted a model of my foot, a work of art, that I could some day put on a plinth and place it in the library of my dream home. It would be something I could hold, and most importantly, a way to look at my own foot from an altogether new angle.
Last week, my friend Neil and I went to Michael’s and I looked for supplies. I found the casting material, I bought a huge bucket of plaster of paris, but then I noticed something else on sale – a kit to create a cement garden stone. It just happened to be the perfect size for my feet, and it was only $10. I debated buying it; it wasn’t what I had been planning on doing. But then something nagged at me and said I should get it ‘just in case.’ Just in case of what? I didn’t know at the time, but I’m glad I did.
Like I said, I haven’t had the best of weeks – my gall bladder’s acting up something fierce and I’m pretty certain it’s infected. Yesterday I went to see the surgeon at Walter Reed to supposedly set up a surgery date, but instead I ran into all sorts of problems because one of the doctors I saw a week ago in the Emergency Room butted in and decided to play God. He canceled my surgery date and forced me to have all sorts of unnecessary tests, one of which he schedule for today, my anniversary day which was supposed to be reserved for relaxation, expression, and introspection. Instead, I had to wake up early this morning, go back to Walter Reed, and have an endoscopy.
In case you don’t know, an endoscopy is a procedure where they stick a tube with a little camera on the end down your throat so they can take a look inside your gut. I had to be put under pretty heavy sedation for it, which is never fun as I always react adversely to it. It’s made me feel ill, dizzy, nauseous, and unstable all day. On top of that, I only got two hours of sleep the night before. By the time I got home at around one o’clock, I was so exhausted I only just managed to get upstairs to my bedroom and collapse onto my bed. I slept until around 5:00pm, but even then I was too tired to do much.
I was determined not to break my anniversary, however. Neil and Mike were kind enough to help me out, so at least I was able to create my cement stone. They both helped me mix the cement, which I poured into the mold. I went back inside while Neil very nicely cleaned up the mess, then we all waited for the cement to set just enough so that I could make my imprint. 15 minutes later, I went back out to the garage, sat on another bucket, and pressed my feet into the center of the stone. It left perfect imprints of my heels, arches, and the nine remaining toes. I wish I could show you a picture, but I don’t want to touch it until it sets. According to the instructions, it will be entirely set in 48 hours. I can’t wait.
But what to do with my feet in cement? I can’t decide, but I have come up with a few options. The first thing I thought of was to create a square table top with a two inch lip on the edge. In the very center, there’d be another lip, creating a square in the middle just big enough for my stone. I could fill the outer ring with candy or rocks or sand or whatever, and then put a big sheet of glass over it. Slap some legs on it and it’s a coffee table, or better yet, a Foot Rest. Hehe, get it? :) Mike suggested it might also look cool hanging on a wall, which I think would be faboo.
After completing another year of my tradition, I was pretty well exhausted. Mike took me to a little diner for dinner – my first meal of the day – then I laid on the couch for the remainder of the evening, watching the Olympics. Now here I am, unable to sleep because it still hurts, but I’m happy that despite that surgeon’s best efforts to thwart my plans, I was at least able to make my no toe art.
I suppose I should have realized that naturally I’d be a little upset and overly sensitive around this time of year. My foot caught on before I did – when I woke up this morning, I had the most intense phantom pains I’ve had in about a year. Then, adding to that a myriad of other events which took place this month, some of which I can’t even talk about yet, it’s no wonder I’m exhausted and rather blue. So, in that event, I hope you’ll excuse my recent disposition.
If I feel up to it, I may make that cast of my foot tomorrow. Then maybe I can get all of this out of my system and all will be well in my little universe.
