hyster-y

Home and Away

2009-08-11T19:04:00.000-07:00

I feel like I have been away for ages.

Away from my body that is. Away from my psyche and spirit. From my heart.

And away from this blog.

I return to this blog to begin a sort of chronicle of my life in recovery from illness. The healing path can be a difficult one but also has its rewards.

"Home and Away" is a book I am writing about my personal healing journey. Its about being a woman and not only rediscovering my power but also accepting that I am a "delicate flower" as my friend and ex-acupuncturist Michael called me. Not delicate in "I let people walk all over me" but delicate in "I am sensitive to the energies of the Universe" and thus I need to begin to take care where I put my energy, how I use my energy, who I share my energy with, and what energy I take in.

I hope my weekly stories help all women who are on the healing path to rediscover their own faith in the process, and to rediscover their bodies, psyches, spirits, hearts....

Thanks for listening and reading.

Leah

Taking Back My Body. Taking Back My Life.

2008-12-27T17:00:00.000-08:00

My guess is that every woman on this planet has dealt with sexual harassment in one form or another.

The American Heritage Dictionary: Third Edition (1992) defines it as:

n. Unwanted and offensive sexual advances or sexually derogatory remarks.

My guess is also that most women don't realize they are being sexually harassed until after its happened. This may seem an odd statement coming from a progressive woman in her 40's....so let me explain.

When I was a teenager, I was shy and uncomfortable with myself. My self esteem was entwined with wanting to be good and wanting everyone to like me. I had no idea what an incredible "being" I was. I was convinced that i was not enough which included being unintelligent, unattractive and unable. As a 40 year old I find that this condition, although it is not as prominent as before, still persists.

Someone once told me that the Dalai Lama does not understand the Western dis-ease of self hatred. In fact it perplexes him. The first time he was taught the concept of self esteem , he could not understand it because unconditional self love and care was a given. It (unconditional love and care of the self) did not have an opposite, so therefore the word "self-esteem" simply did not exist.

As a teenager that suffered with this western dis-ease, I allowed myself to fall into bizarre relationships with boys and men who had no interest in my heart, soul and general welfare. I became a target for their anger, sadness and loneliness, which ultimately was expressed through both subtle and non-subtle sexual harassment.

1. Here's an example of subtle: A male teacher asked me to be his assistant in one of his freshman English classes. Instead of paying attention to his students, during the class he'd pass notes to me which he had torn into individual words. It was my job to find the order of the words, and once I discovered their order, it was my job to respond in the way he desired: by blushing and smiling shyly. What did these torn pieces of paper spell out? I can't remember exactly, but I do recall that they always spoke about my beauty. Being who I was at the time and being a girl, I accepted these small torn puzzles as flattery and thought them to be honorable. I visited him during class breaks and he gave me a small children's book he had written with a very sweet and personal message written in it (just for me). Eventually, because I forgot to get him a birthday card, the male teacher moved onto to harassing other teenage girls.

2. Here's an example of not so subtle: At a sleepover party at the reform synagogue I attended I was engaged in seeking attention from some boys. One of them decided that he would grab one of my breasts. After he did this he declared that it was about the size of an orange.

3. Here's a more recent example of not so subtle: On a recent Friday night I went to an art opening to support a friend in his endevour to show his art. All kinds of people flowed through. At one point a man came in with his friend and we all chatted about my friend's artwork. They left the room and I continued to chat with people flowing in and out of the space. About ten minutes later the man came back and asked if I wanted to dance. Since I did not want to stand around all night I figured I'd dance. We made our way down a hallway to the room where the music was playing. As I walked across the room to an open spot I realized how uncomfortable I was feeling. Before I could assess my discomfort, this man had decided he wanted to slow dance with me. Without my permission, he placed his hands on my shoulders and pulled me towards him. After this incident, we talked. The entire conversation was coated in sexual innuendo. He commented on my body several times, and after telling him about my art, he figured I must be coming on to him. Now, don't get me wrong. This man had a few intelligent things to say. He was not an idiot. In fact he even mentioned that he was ready for the Feminine Archetype to take back its power in our overly Patriarchal culture. But instead of conversing with me intelligently he continued his sexual commentary. At one point he even suggested I take my sweater off because "wasn't it hot in here?"

A couple of days ago I was on facebook floating around and looking at photos posted by an old high school friend. As I was perusing, I came upon one particular photo from my high school yearbook. It was a photo of the Culver High School Newspaper Staff. I recognized most of the people including the teacher who ran the paper. This teacher was the harasser I mentioned in the first example above. Then I proceeded to read the comments my old high school friends had made in regards to the photo. After a few sentences commenting on their clothing and hairdos (it was the 80's after all), they began to refer to the teacher as "perv" and commented on how he seemed to harass the entire female population at Culver High. Upon reading this, something clicked inside of me. It was as if years of feeling a sort of unease and confusion lifted and suddenly there was an opening. I had been the victim of harassment, and over 30 years after the incident I was coming to terms with it.

But then something strange happened. Even with this knowledge and this "opening", two days later I went to the art gathering, mentioned above in the third example, and let it happen again. In fact, as it was happening I had a dialogue going on in my head that went something like this: "I am really uncomfortable and this guy is pushy and controlling and inappropriate and I really don't like him and I really should just walk away....but jeeze he seems smart and interesting and he dances and is educated and has passion but I am really really uncomfortable and really need to walk away, etc. etc. etc."

This leads me to question what I believe about myself.

Do I....
inherently believe that the only way to get love is to allow men to harass me?

Do I...

inherently believe that if I say that I am uncomfortable and do not want to engage in such sexual advances that I will be rejected?

Do I...

inherently believe that if I am true to myself and walk away from harassment that I will considered a BITCH and unlovable, unlikable and hyster-ical?

Do I...

inherently believe that I must make my body available to men whether I want to or not?

As I write these questions down I wonder why it is so difficult to be the powerful woman that I know and feel I am.

Perhaps it is because I am untangling years of social and cultural constructs. I was trained well by western culture...and so undoing that misguided education may take another 40 years.

Imagine that...an 80 year old woman sitting on her porch rocking and knitting and finally feeling free...

I don't think it will take another 40 years...in fact I think that perhaps I am closer - to taking back my body and my life - than I think.

In fact all of the words and thoughts above are testament to it.

Thanks for listening.

Leah

Slowing Down

2008-07-27T23:15:00.000-07:00

It is late...and i should be sleeping but instead I am eating, crying...feeling sweaty and gross from a very emotional weekend.

I will spare you the details.

Simply put, I am way in over my head trying to hold down a job, be an artist, live in a crazy part of downtown Seattle, have friends and a boyfriend...while trying to handle and remedy the dis-ease in my body. I am very very stressed out to the point that I am dizzy most of the time...and now headed to more doctors to get things checked out to make sure they are not hazardous to my health.

List of things to let go of that stress me out and do not make me feel good: staying up late, eating wheat, dairy and sugar, making art for exhibition, building websites, worrying about my career, parties with junk food, parties with too many people, loud events, worrying about my current living situation, worrying about anything and everything....

List of things to add to my life that make me feel good: good nourishing food and herbal infusions, sleep, hot baths, yoga, long walks, sunshine, slowing down, hot tea, fun playful sex, easy funny movies, cooking, nature, leisurely bike rides, breathing deeply, naps, tending to my green friends (plants :), talking to my green friends, spending sweet time singing with my boyfriend, sunsets on the sound, good sweet acoustic music, reading poetry, painting with color, laughing, clowning...

I was going to say goodbye to this blog but instead plan on using it as an outlet for really sharing my healing journey...at least for now and until it becomes a stressor in my life....

I am going to retire my website...its time to let the monster that's never finished go....and to focus on other more pleasant things like growing herbs on my balcony...

also, I am letting go of wombanproductions.com for a bit....tucking it under my pillow until i have the strength to take it out again....

if I am going to transform the world...I must find my own strength and health....

Recently a woman singer song writer wrote that she was finally taking a break to take care of herself....

She has inspired me to do the same.

I am completely exhausted with trying so darn hard....

so letting go into emptiness and silence and peace...

Loving Womyn

2008-07-18T22:59:00.000-07:00

I love womyn and it is my path to help guide them through various stages of their lives...ones which provide the challenges of loving and rediscovering their bodies, creating connections between the heart and womb, and re-enlivening their spirits.

Tonight I met a womyn who does yoga for fertility. I told her that I was a creative midwife and was just beginning to formulate ideas on working with womyn. She suggested yet another population of womyn to work with - those who have had miscarriages.

I sighed a long sigh and said YES.

Whether its literal or symbolic, our bodies, our lives deserve the time to nurture and massage the metaphors and stories that shape us. We need time to heal so that we can continue to love and nurture the world around us.

I am introducing my organization "Womban Productions" at the end of this year and in the beginning of the new lunar year....

Womban Productions will offer nurturing services including workshops and one-on-one sessions, healing foods (including herbs) cooking classes and womyn created products.

Stay tuned....

Chutzpah

2008-07-08T21:25:00.000-07:00

I went out for a walk on this very hot evening in Seattle and immediately sensed that my neighborhood was especially crazy. Its not the full moon...in fact its quite the opposite. Tonight a cop said that perhaps "a bad batch of dope" was circulating.

Yes, I spoke with a cop tonight because I was harassed and accosted by a white male. He didn't get very far in his "accosting" because I saw it coming. I recognized him from just an hour or so earlier where, from my balcony, I saw him messing with a man on the corner of 4th and Washington. So I knew it was my turn as soon as I saw him. as soon as I saw his body from 15 feet away move me towards the wall of windows along the building I call home. By that time I had my key pointed towards him like a weapon and I screamed "Get the fuck away from me" over and over again. He managed to touch my arm but got the picture that I meant business.

I proceeded to call 911, the cops came, then they gave me choices....I decided to id him if they found him...and they did. They called me down the street one block and from a distance of 50 feet I said "yes, that's him". Then they gave me more choices. Send him to jail tonight and go to court...or press charges and leave it to a prosecutor to decide whether or not to send him to court. I decided to press charges. I left with a business card with the officers name and the incident number and the possibility of having to go to court to defend myself and to mark this man as an oppressor. The officer kept asking me whether or not I wanted to file as a "victim".

The word victim brings up all sorts of stuff for me. I've spent my life a victim to circumstance and people....and have only just begun to peel off that heavy dark coat.

The one thought that kept circling in my brain was "but what if in pressing charges, he comes after me again?"

I want to protect myself, my neighbors, all women and men, and children from this man...but does taking action mean that I am and will always be a victim?

As a woman with a small frame and injuries that disable me in some ways (e.g. I can't run), I feel vulnerable. This vulnerability is something that I like most of the time because I think it is true for every living thing. We are fragile. Life is precious. And out of this delicate nature we birth beautiful things and appreciate the sacredness of life. But in the culture and society we live in today...it is also something that makes me more of a target.

I am in the process of getting my body back to a stronger more stable and balanced place but this process is frustratingly slow. And what if I am always a delicate flower? How then to protect myself from other harassers?

So where does this leave me?

One thing I know is that I will be purchasing a mace key chain to take with me wherever I go....and another thing is that I am signing up for a self defense course...long, long overdue....

I can blame this incident on my crazy neighborhood but only last year in a neighborhood considered "nice" a woman was stabbed to death by a vagrant....So, the universe does not always make sense....its not so black and white.

So, I will take this incident as a sign to proceed with the necessary steps to protect myself, to take time to ponder, question, discuss and write about why women still feel threatened when they leave their homes, to think about other neighborhoods (with less harassment possibilities) to live in...

And....to celebrate my chutzpah and strength, which I believe kept the harasser at bay.

May we all find our power and strength...and may we use it for the good of this universe.

On the Road #2: Om

2008-07-04T15:22:00.000-07:00

It is 5:30am and I am too sleepy to go into details about my travels...they will come later after some time to let the whole experience of friends, family, sun and returning to a place I called "home" for over 12 years simmer in my pot.

I am still on the road, or rather I am on the last leg of my travels.....(funny, I just spelled the word "on" this way :"Om")....

The misspelling that led me to "Om" seems appropriate here considering the complex path I have traversed over the last 7 days.

It feels like a month has passed by...

I can't say I passed the family test with flying colors. In fact, earlier this week I told a friend that I had earned about a C- in that category. But, after experiencing and participating in the wedding of my younger brother yesterday, I think I may have moved up to at least a B.

I am off to join Patty (a family member on the Bride's side) for a ride to the Oakland airport...and then to Seattle.

Stay tuned for a introspective and detailed travel log.

On The Road #1: Away and Not Away from Home

2008-06-30T08:46:00.001-07:00

I am on the road.

Left my current "home" for my old "home" to visit old friends, luxuriate in California hot springs, and witness my brother's marriage.

Travelling always shifts things for me. I enter a space that reminds me that I can create my life continually minute by minute. The freedom from work and the daily errands at "home" allows me to reenter a more liminal or ethereal space. the space inside myself. the space outside of what we call time. the space outside of how we organize our lives around the material world.

Within the first few hours my friend Hank took me into his community's beautiful garden to show me the bee hives. He coaxed me over to one in particular and pointed to just underneath the hive. I bent my knees and practically sat underneath it and there it was - a clear plexiglass wall allowing me to view the inside of the hive.

Just a few years ago I began my journey with honeybees, collecting dead one's from Hank's windowsills. One of my performances at school included rubbing fresh honey on a gallery wall, throwing dead honeybees into the honey, and watching the honey and bees slowly drip down the wall. As I stood there, in the nude, and watched the golden and dense fluid carry their bodies, I discovered that what I was looking at was the inside of my Womb. I had begun this performance with the idea that I would be giving new life to the bees but also with a sense of mystery around my compulsion to do so. I ended up with a mirror into my Being.

Now here I was 6 or 7 years later, again at Hank's home... again staring into the belly of the Womb. This time however, I was witnessing the actual occurrence as opposed to only experiencing their symbolic powers, imagining what occurred inside the darkness of the hive.

The image: hundreds of dusty black and yellow bodies layered upon each other vibrating to keep the hive warm. bees carrying their dead out of the hive. a subtle hummmmmm.

Reflecting back to this moment I am curious and amazed at the influence of these bees on my life. I am also delighted by how my friend Hank has both provided the opportunity to begin my journey with honeybees, and witnessed the development of my personal symbolic relationship with them.

I am still sitting with this new Hive experience, allowing it to settle in, inform me and also resuscitate the part of me that thrives on the invisible, ethereal, sensual and symbolic.

I am sitting with the irony that when I leave the Body of my loft in Seattle, WA - my "home" - I rediscover "home" inside of my Body. When I am on the road, out of my regular environment and routine, I encounter multiple opportunities to return to my Body and to the realization that everything outside of it is simply a reflection of my insides.

My Body is my Home.

It is Monday and I am at the beginning of my travels, wandering towards the marriage of my only sibling.

As I move closer to this new union, this family celebration, I carry my Body, my Womb, these bees and their vibrations, their life and their death, with me.

I carry all that has made me, all that I am, and all that continues to sculpt me into this physical existence.

Bleed. Do Nothing

2008-06-17T22:37:00.000-07:00

This evening I shared the wisdom of the saying "Do Nothing".

It's not meant to be taken literally...but instead you come at it, or it comes at you from a different angle.

I was told this bit of wisdom when I was in a panic about art school and work...and caught up in a personal drama with a fellow student.

It simply means, DO NOT REACT AND LET THINGS SETTLE (before making any decisions or changes).

When I bleed, the influence of the everyday world of doing and decision making bears a heavy weight.

Bleeding is about not reacting...

It is a time to allow a RELEASE...and an OPENING.

It is a time of deepening into TRUST and FAITH.

When one lets go into anything, consciousness shifts....there is a loosening and then nothingness/spaciousness and then the potential for something completely new to arrive.

I believe that when wisdom bubbles up from me as an offering to another...that it is also a reminder to myself.

Bleed. Do Nothing. Bleed. Do Nothing. Bleed. Do Nothing.

Curses...!! Let Me Bleed!!!

2008-06-17T22:00:00.000-07:00

I have spent the evening circling my studio, which looks out over the South end of downtown Seattle, like an impatient cat. I am bleeding and this means that nothing in the everyday world of "doing" makes sense. Its time for me to be curled up (like a cat) on the bed or couch with a heating pad or hot water bottle over my abdomen and a delicious warm drink by my side.

When forced to show up and "do" while the blood flows from me, I become moody and angry, judgmental and bitter. I begin to resent everyone and everything because I can not be home nurturing and honoring my body, mind and spirit. No wonder its been called the "Curse"!!!!

This evening my Lover and Friend RB said to me that he believes women should be free to help and heal the world with their special gifts versus being stuck in some 40 hour per week job. I agree...and I would like to add that we should also be allowed to bleed without interruption, with the space and time we need to shed all of the old and rotting and dead in our bodies and lives, so that space is created for new life and new potential.

When we bleed, our hysteria is the unfolding and unravelling of our collective and prophetic wisdom. We, as women, are in touch with the cycles of life and death, and thus in touch with the erotic forces which enliven our bodies, minds and spirits.

Let me bleed, and bleed and bleed. Let me howl and scream and shake. Let the tears flow out. Let the blood be red and wet and messy. Let my body rest heavily under currents of sheets, blankets, comforters. Let me dream and see. Let me bleed.

You are Her

2008-06-11T22:00:00.000-07:00

The Universe speaks in mysterious ways. Two incidences where I am brought back to life after a long hiatus:

1. Yesterday morning my co-worker Natalee sat down across from me at my desk. Her eyes were wide as she looked at me fiercely and said: "I visited your website (www.leahlibow.net)...You are 'HER' !"

2. Recently I have begun to share enjoyable moments with a new male friend. I met RB in a sea of dating mishaps. All I remember about my first meeting was his wide attractive smile. Since meeting this lovely man he has dressed me in delicious compliments including the "curly headed goddess", and has commented several times on the beauty of my Yoni, and told me that I am beautiful inside and out....WOW....that's all I have to say :).

I know that ultimately it is self love that keeps you going but sometimes you need the Universe to shine a little light when things have been tough.

I am coming up on my two year anniversary of moving from Berkeley, CA to Seattle, WA....which means two full years out of grad school (MFA Studio Art).

I am slowly getting back to my WORK in the world - slow being the operable word here - as I recover from dis-ease in my body, mind and spirit...

Thanks to Natalee, RB, and to all of my friends and family for keeping my flame ignited.

and here's to returning again and again...

Reconciling #4 - pollinating 8 hours earlier every year

2008-03-21T22:57:00.000-07:00

A few months ago, in the Spring, on the front page in a Seattle, WA newspaper, there was an article on how the flowers and trees are speeding up their clocks. Each year Spring comes 8 hours earlier.

My first thought was, "but of course." If I stand at the large wall sized windows from my 2nd story office and look out at the speed at which we travel and then turn around and see people in the office literally running from one task to another, computing and faxing and phoning and emailing and pdf'ing etc etc etc, its not hard to see why the birds are screaching at louder decimals and the pollen is bursting faster and faster. We have created madness in our lives.

Our bodies (nature) do not move at the speed to which we have become accostomed. We live in our isolated units, lonely and in front of tv and computer screens, running to and at and from work, rushing to get chores done, so we can finally relax. Because of the stressful environments we have created, dis-ease in many forms has taken over.

Dis-ease is my personal friend and I believe the only way out of my predicament is to slow down and eliminate the unessential - to reconnect to my body and the earth...to quiet my mind and my nervous system and to return to a state of peace and equanimity.

Slowing down is not easy, nor is reversing many years of bad decisions and stress. On a daily basis I consider this and feel distraught. On a daily basis I consider this and feel blessed and filled with faith. Sometimes the deepest sadness sits underneath the surface and then underneath it laughter and delight. It's not so straight forward and yet it is.

So what does this have to do with Hyster you ask? Well....everything.

We come from the womb of the earth....our (womyn's) bodies are the earth with all of its delicious cycles and seasons. To care for our bodies/minds/spirits and those of our friends, partners, families and communities reflects upon the health of our lovely Earth Body.

Reconciling #3-You Call That Art?!?!

2008-02-04T22:46:00.000-08:00

The hyster - exhibition is back in boxes.

This brings on both a sense of relief and the nagging question "what next?"

A relief because it's exhausting having your artwork in the public for all to see and experience. Really, its me all over the walls and floors of the gallery. My insides smeared everywhere.

The "what next?" always lingers just underneath the surface. Never any time to celebrate accomplishments.

Next, I turn 40 years old. So, I'm planning a big party. After that, I plan on re-entering my studio and retackling my website.

As far as reconciliation #3- goes...

1. On the last day of my exhibition I was standing around the corner from the entrance of the gallery where my full frontal with menstrual blood was hanging. I overheard a woman (who was standing in front of this photo) say "You call that art?!" in a very sarcastic tone. As she rounded the corner, I faced her and said "Yes, I'm the artist." She asked which artist, and I told her "the one exhibiting in the hallway." "You mean the one showing photos of women having their period?!" "YES."

I'll refrain from boring you with the rest of the dialogue. Mostly it was me trying to pick up the pieces of my ego and defend my work. I did not do a good job of it because I was coming from a place of fear, anger and defensiveness instead of power and strength. And I soon realized that I was speaking to an audience (she was its representative) whose opinion of art most likely included the impressionists and perhaps a few abstract painters as well, but did not include the 70's feminist artists or any conceptual or performance art. And then, after I took a few breaths and calmed down, I recalled that I had taken an entire course in graduate school which focused on the question "What is Art?"... and that even a bunch of art school grad students had trouble answering that one.

2. The day before this slap in the face, I met two womyn at the gallery who had a completely different experience. Both were menopausal or at least in different stages of it. Both raved about my work and encouraged me to continue, insisting that it was meaningful and necessary. One of them told me that for several days before coming to see my work she felt crampy, and then started to actually bleed the day before she came to the exhibit. This woman had not bled for an entire year! I also had a similar experience with my exhibition. I started bleeding the day after my show opened, which meant I was 7 days early! And I started bleeding the day my show closed, so my moon literally framed my exhibition!

(aside: a man in his 70's who runs the Guardrail Gallery in my building LOVED my work and praised me for it.)

I am always amazed at the enormous power of my work. I am always amazed that some people (even womyn) still don't get it...and probably never will. I am always amazed by those I think may be offended, but instead are delighted.

So here I am. Faced with the realization that not all womyn will like, enjoy or agree with my work. It feels like the two sides of me again, working towards reconciliation...but it also feels like a huge lesson in life. As an artist I must let go of being liked, wanted, needed, desired etc etc etc...and this is also true as a person. I must continue to do what I love and hopefully this will cause transformation in my life as well as the lives of others.

By transformation I mean causing another being to shift their consciousness enough to begin asking new questions...to invoke a sort of curiosity and re-ignite the imagination...and to allow for re-entering the memory of our own bodies and psyches.

There's more to say but I will end for now. Allow myself and YOU to ponder for awhile.

Reconciling #2- A Different Translation

2008-01-25T15:57:00.000-08:00

A womyn friend of mine who's spiritual life and practice is dense, rich and fecund, wrote me an email in response to the my need to reconcile the opposites.

More specifically she mentioned her own interpretation of the Kabbalah's reference to womyn's bleeding being dirty and somehow staining men.

Here's what she wrote:

"After reading about the kaballistic group with whom you spoke, it would be interesting for you to read up on the practice of niddah - the seperation that women who are with their moon take from their partners for 7-12 days...to then mikveh and return to consumate their sexual relationship. If you read it from a purely halachic position, it for me and most likely you, lends itself to blood and the moon being "dirty" and "unclean" as that is unfortunately the way it is translated. However, for many women,myself included, I view it completely differently. ....I have practiced niddah when in relatonship for many years and have LOVED the separation I have taken from being with, touching, being sexual with my partners. and doing mikveh is one of the highest and most amazing practices in judaism that I have known as a woman."

She offered to lend me an entire reader on the practice of Niddah and Mikvah and to talk in length about her personal relationship with the Halachic text and ritual.

In 2004, I performed "Mikvah" - a ritual performance - at Works Gallery in San Jose, CA. This performance touched upon the rediscovery of THE feminine body and psyche via the act of unwrapping and cleansing womyn's shoes. During that time I had briefly investigated the possibility of visiting a Mikvah but never got further than accepting a book on the ritual from an observant Jewish womyn in Oakland.

I have never been a person who was attracted to groups with rules; however, I am increasingly attracted to ritual and to the discipline of a daily practice of prayer or meditation. When I have regular and reoccurring moments where I engage the connection between body, mind and spirit with the outer world throughout the day, month, or year, I feel contained and connected. When I simply roll out of bed everyday without any threads connecting me to body, mind and spirit I feel a dis-ease. The more I feel this dis-ease, the more interested I become in exploring Judaism as a way of living a more fully expressed life.

I will read the texts and seek out the Mikvah. And though I am single, I will practice Niddah by simply attending to my inner life and to my body much more consciously and lovingly during my moon and put the notion and desire of having a partner aside.

Throughout this process I will post references to reading materials and my process...so YOU can join me in this ritual exploration.

* Here's an article on Niddah and a list of articles on Mikvah and rituals for young girls just beginning their moon, for your reading pleasure {found on ritualwell.org}.

Remaining Resolute in My Work: Reconciling Opposites, Part #1

2008-01-21T22:15:00.000-08:00

I am new at standing my ground. New at remembering why I just hung a show all about the (my) womb, the (my) feminine psyche.

So, when I speak to a group of womyn about my exhibition "hyster - ", and some respond with enthusiasm, while others describe it as being about "getting your period, " or sit and stare at you like you are speaking a foreign (or taboo or disturbing) language, its all I can do to keep myself from either shriveling up into a tiny little ball or leaping up and shouting. I know these are opposite extremes but it is totally normal for me to live in both the world of fear and the world of passionate engagement. Although not always the case, it is my intention that the PASSIONATE ENGAGEMENT wins out over the fear.

On Sunday January 20th, when I spoke with a group of womyn, I was not speaking to a group who had signed up for my talk. Rather, they were a bit surprised I was there, but were none-the-less (at least two out of four of them) happy to oblige. One of them was excited by the work because her daughter was 10 and she had already begun to talk with her about getting her moon. She shares photos of her daughters birth with her daughter and has explained to her the ways in which her body will change. The other woman, post menopausal, told me how she loved and cherished her body, and explained a bit about her menopausal symptoms. Both loved the edgy photos of my Lilith series (includes blood and a peek at my vagina) - photographs of my private Ritual Bleeding performance.

I gave these two womyn a private, albeit quick, tour of my work and then -because this meeting of womyn was actually a Kabbalah Study Group - we proceeded to discuss the fact that even in the Kabbalistic texts, womyn's bleeding is considered something that can leap onto men and thus is considered dirty, evil and poisonous. There was talk about how one of the womyn's male Kabbalah teachers defended the Kabbalah, stating that the passage on womyn's blood leaping onto a man was not sexist because in the Kabbalistic tradition womyn were on a higher spiritual plain than men (I'll have to look into this and get back to you). Although I laughed and proclaimed the texts "still sexist", I left the group wondering why and how such opposites could exist.

And, as I write this, I find these very opposites exist within me. How funny is it to walk out of a room where I discover a split within my own spiritual tradition and then to re-realize that I have not and do not fully love, respect, honor and cherish my body, spirit, mind, and psyche. The split also exists within me.

I do this work in order to reconcile these opposites. To bring forth the divine within me. To learn to love, respect, honor and cherish all parts of myself. And as I do this my hope is to bring other womyn along with me. Perhaps the two womyn in the room who had nothing to say, and did not come to look at my work, might join me?

No matter how tough the path is I must remain resolute in my work.

I hope YOU will join me.

Ms Magazine Celebrates 35 Years!!!

2008-01-14T12:17:00.000-08:00

Ms (www.msmagazine.com) is one of the magazines that helped to open my eyes. A strong voice that continues to fight sexism and to raise womyn's voices and praise womyns bodies, minds and spirits.

Ms magazine celebrates its 35th anniversary by asking a variety of women from across the country, and around the globe, to reflect on feminism. "How has it changed their lives over the past 35 years? Where is it going in the next 35 years?"

Ms would like to add YOUR voice to the chorus as well— "send your answer to the question “What have feminism and Ms. magazine meant to you?” to <letterstotheeditor@msmagazine.com>.

Thank you Ms and all of my feminist ancestors for making my work in the world possible!!

The Process of Remembering the Body #1

2008-01-12T12:28:00.000-08:00

On January 20th at about noon I will have the opportunity to speak with a group of women who inadvertantly viewed my exhibition. Their Kabalah group just so happens to take place in one of the artist studios in the Tashiro Kaplan Building where my work is exhibited. In order to get to the studio, they have to walk through the Corridor Gallery (literally a nice hallway) where my work is displayed.

Their initial reaction to my Bleeding Ritual photos - where you can see the lips of my vagina and pubic hair and the blood dropping down my legs - was "ewww...disgusting!."

My initial reaction to hearing this was to want to change these women. To make them love their body and love their blood. But then I realized that I am in the beginning stages of this undertaking - the love of ALL of my body - and that it is no small feat to undo the cultural brain washing of all westernized women. As soon as we emerge from the womb we are bombarded with a million reasons why we must transform our hairy, bleeding, erotic, sensual bodies into hairless, thin, virginal instruments of male fantasy and pleasure.

So, instead of defending my work, or asking these women to change their minds...I am simply going to ask that they (and all women) close their eyes and imagine this scenario.

What if before you began to bleed, your mother or grandmother or the womyn in your community, took you aside and explained to you the beauty and power of the feminine body, mind and spirit? And what if in this description, the flow of your blood was described as a rich red river? And what if when you began to bleed, there was a ritual ceremony of celebration where the womyn who honored and cared for you taught you to apply oils to your body, to create beautiful henna tattoos on your hands and to henna your hair, showed you how to care for yourself during your moon flow, and explained the long and beautiful hystery of this monthly ritual? And what if you were welcomed into the red tent to bleed with the other womyn in your community? And what if you were taught how to brew herbs into nourishing infusions to keep your beautiful body happy and healthy? And what if you were taught that with this blood came the responsibility of re-entering the community as a womyn? And what if throughout the years of bleeding or birthing or (meno)pausing, you were mentored by the womyn in your community who bled and birthed and (meno)paused before you? And what if PMS was not a syndrome but instead described the Powerful Moon Story or prophesy of your monthly blood flow? And what if as an infant you were born into a world where women's bodies, wisdom and power was honored and respected?

I am not the first womyn or feminist to ask these questions. But, despite how far We have come, the "ewwwww.......gross..." comment symbolizes how far we still have to go....

Hyster - Exhibition

2007-12-14T16:49:00.000-08:00

On January 3rd of 2008, my solo exhibition, Hyster – , will open at the Corridor Gallery, at the Tashiro Kaplan Artist Lofts in heart of the art district in Seattle, WA. For more information visit www.leahlibow.net.

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The root of the words Hysterical and Hysterectomy is Hyster – or “Womb”. Both words violently tear away at and objectify the female body and psyche. In this body of work I explore the Feminine psyche rediscovering itself through reconnection to the womb. In this rediscovery I explore themes of pleasure, wild and raw physicality, sensuality and desire.

As womyn we are punished for our bodies, punished for our emotions, punished for our bleeding, punished for our intuition, and punished for our wild and pervasive power.

In Hyster-— I explore “the memory of having a body; the memory of loving a body; the memory of my insides; the memory of knowing so much more than I am allowed to” L. Libow

I attempt to undo the negativity and shame applied to my own body and psyche and to all women’s bodies and psyches. I attempt to address a history where womyn’s experiences and contributions are absent, negated, and erased, and one where their inherent and powerful connection to the earth is considered evil.

In addressing this history I create my own herstory, or in this case, my own hyster(y).

I offer up this hyster(y) to all womyn everywhere.

Hyster -

2007-11-24T17:22:00.000-08:00

This blog is dedicated to the Hysteria and the Hysterical – the Rage of the Womb(an) – whose ability to hold both life and death makes her intuitive, prophetic and powerful. This blog is dedicated to transforming the negative connotations associated with Hysteria and Hysterical into powerful ways of being. This blog will wipe out the “YES we can remove your uterus and all will be well”- it will take the hysterectomy and trash it and give women back their wombs and thus their entire beings.