Thursday, October 28, 2010

"Inside the Belly of a Crime I Never Committed"


"Bleeding Wings 6" 18" clay sculpture by Kathy Ostman-Magnusen

"Inside the Belly of a Crime I Never Committed"

I feel hidden inside the belly of a crime I never committed.
I feel coaxed toward the pleasure of a sin not yet known
guilt in mind
I set focus on the betrayal of my own self worth.
As I wind my heart around it all
like a ball of yarn 
lines that have been added to 
with the intention of meeting other things
the warmth of a sweater
a blanket to cover me at night
or a mind that screams
when I feel vulnerable.

I am not so disillusioned by the dwelling of introspection
that I am not safe though.
My palm shows generous stories
just like any one else's.
I tend the garden of complacency
grieving for lost artwork.
I hold tea parties at midnight
when no one is watching
and I call on every demon angel I have ever met there.
They tend to sing too loud though
and so
I quiet them by sharing my poems
and brushing my hair with remote intentions. 
Be safe 
I whisper
and we will all find shelter in a far off cove
that was always meant for lovers.

by Kathy Ostman-Magnusen
27 October 2010
Copyright 2010

INVENTORY AT MONKDOGZ, NEW YORK:

Tuesday, July 20, 2010

"Mr. Magnusen", 30x40x2 oil on canvas



The image is of my (Kathy Ostman-Magnusen) painting of Dennis.

Artist's Statement:

"Mr. Magnusen", 30x40x2 oil on canvas, by Kathy Ostman-Magnusen

Artist's Statement:

Mr. Magnusen, the subject of my painting, shares many of my same memories. We grew up not far from one another In S. California and later attended the same high school. It was in high school that I fell in love with Dennis G Magnusen. That love story was put on hold for some 30 years.

In 1967 Dennis was drafted by the US Army, and subsequently went to Vietnam in 1968. Circumstances and follies of youth would cause us to follow separate paths.

While in Vietnam Dennis was strongly affected by the children he saw there. "Children were never meant to experience war", he told me years later. He decided that he wanted to do his part to change the world. "Real change in any society begins with the children," was Dennis' mantra, so he became a teacher. He worked with gang zone high school kids in the evenings and intermediate students in the afternoon. Grades of F's and D's were bought up to A's and B's. Mr. Magnusen reached beyond his own expectations, leading kids to an understanding of their own worth, thus opening doors to their potential futures. He created a surf club and got the community to help. He was often featured on local TV and newspapers as someone who was making a difference in children's lives. Dennis also became a Mentor teacher, lending help to other educators. Being somewhat of a rebel he advised fellow teaches of ideas that reached beyond standard textbook techniques.

Sadly the ghost of Vietnam took away Mr. Magnusen's strength in the form of Peripheral Neuropathy, caused by Agent Orange. By 1990 he was too ill to continue his beloved teaching career. It broke his heart. Seeking rest, relief from stress, needing a special place to deal with the physical pain that comes with Small Nerve Fiber Neuropathy, he relocated to Hawaii. Hawaii has been his solace and a cool breeze when memories of who he once was for kids becomes faint.

About three months ago "Mr. Magnusen" was contacted by a former student. Amy had been looking for him for eighteen years. She had heard he had died from Agent Orange complications, but still hoped that she would find him. You see, Amy became a teacher and she wanted to find Mr. Magnusen to tell him how much he had affected her life. While working on her Masters in Literature, Amy wrote a paper describing the most influential person in her life. That person was Mr. Magnusen. Amy called to tell Mr. Magnusen that she wanted to make a difference in this world too. For a teacher there can be no greater reward.

As for me? I found Dennis once again after 30 years, through a miracle of circumstance, but that I guess is another story.

Saturday, June 12, 2010

Meet the Artist, "me" in San Diego, CA


Hi!

If you are in Southern California this Tuesday, 6/15/10 come and meet the artists! Dani Dodge, Marilyn Szabo and "me"! We will all be speaking about our artwork.

Hugz~!

Saturday, January 23, 2010

Dennis Needs Help, The VA is NEGLIGENT


"Mr. Magnusen" 36x48x2 oil on canvas


"Dennis Needs Help, The VA is NEGLIGENT"

This has nothing to do with art per say except that my husband Dennis is an artist, he plays guitar and writes beautiful songs. He has written many for me as we were high school sweethearts who reconnected after 30 years. He love me.

I have posted the painting I did of him that was in the Schaefer Portrait Challenge in Hawaii, called, "Mr. Magnusen"

If you know of anyone who might help him or want to pray for him I would appreciate your assistance.

Here is his story:

To whom it may concern,

My name is Dennis G. Magnusen, I used to be a mentor teacher in Hawaiian Gardens, CA. This was a hard place for a kid to grow up, gangs were well established in this area. I taught junior high during the day, home students in the afternoon, and high school "gangsters" in the evening out of a community
store front school. I loved my job; I took it very seriously. I became an educator because of my experiences
in Vietnam; I did not like what war did to people nor to children, therefore, I taught peaceful resolution to conflicts whenever it seemed necessary. I had to quit teaching in 1990 due to the effects of Agent Orange; I moved to Hawaii.

HERE IS THE PROBLEM: My VA doctor of 18 years (Dr. George W. Ross, Chief of Neurology for the state of Hawaii) finally admitted that he knows nothing about my medical condition. He always told me that "I should not be in so much pain" and that "it is not going to kill me". As it turns out, he could not be more wrong.

In early 2008 I was diagnosed with severe small fiber neuropathy from a biopsy that was sent to Therapath Lab,NY. This is a very painful disease that controls the autonomic nervous system; this has never been addressed by the VA. The only thing the VA has done is to load me up on drugs. Most doctors are amazed that I can even get out of bed with so many medications. I need treatment (i.e. IVIG), not more meds.

In 2008 Dr. Ross recommended that I see Dr. Mandaville (at Univ. Calif. at San Diego and also with the VA in LaJolla). On January 15, 2008, I was to meet with the VA's neurologist who was going to turn me over to Dr. Mandeville. Instead, the VA's neurologist (Dr. Vivan) said that they were going to "re-test" me. It has been a year since that meeting and nothing has changed, they schedule me 4-6 months after each test to see a neurologist, and then order another test.

I need help. In December of 2009, I had to go to the ER twice. The first time I went to a local hospital, I was convulsing and could not breathe ( I was throwing-up continuously and therefore could not keep my meds down), the pain was severe. The next day it happened again. This time I went to the VA in LaJolla, a 25 mile drive. I had to wait in ER for 5 hours before being seen. Once again in severe pain. I was admitted for 3 days before being stabilized. I can't help but to think this wouldn't happen if I was not on so many meds.

In the VA's Patient Right's, it states: "You will be treated with dignity, compassion, and respect as an individual. You will receive care in a safe environment." I've never felt like I was a recipient of this kind of care, it's more like DENY, DELAY and DEATH.

So far I've been diagnosed with peripheral neuropathy, avascular necrosis ( left hip has had a full replacement, the right hip is still deteriorating), cardiomyopathy, COPD, chronic pain, chest pain, PTSD, persistent insomnia, acute sinusitis, acute tonsillitis, malaise and fatigue, cough, pyronies disease, gastrointestinal motility, and small fiber neuropathy, as well as a few others.

I need help. All I want is a doctor who can help me. There are still things in this world that I want to accomplish. I want the VA to treat me with dignity, compassion, and respect as an individual, and give me that care in a safe environment.

Dennis G Magnusen

Wednesday, December 2, 2009

Sunday, November 1, 2009

Art on Barebrush VOTE FOR ME!! #19




VOTE FOR ME!! #19
~~*~~
HI! My painting has been selected by Marina Hadley for Curator's Choice. Voting is on your left~ Would you do me a favor and VOTE FOR ME! "#19" ? That's my painting! Vote for "Curators Choice" and then again for "My Fav" both "#19".. OK? THANK YOU SO MUCH! ~Kathy

http://www.barebrush.com/NOTM/Archives/NOTM2009_11.php


Art~ PLEASE VOTE for ME~Vote #19 "Curators Choice" &again for "My Fav" both "#19".. OK? THANK YOU SO MUCH! ~Kathy

Wednesday, September 2, 2009

"Young Girls Who Die Too Soon - Remembering Terry "


This is a little watercolor I did for HayHouse Inc. that is in Anne Wilson Schaef's "Meditations for Women Who Do Too Much" CARDS. I am the illustrator of all of those cards. I considered my own two daughters as I painted the one above. ~Kathy

"Young Girls Who Die Too Soon - Remembering Terry "

Her name was written on a stone
Terry
in a light pink shade of sadness
for she was a lovely
but very lonely 
girl
who had passed away in Spring
so many years ago now.

I guess one could say
that pink
had turned to blue
and  in the early mornings
when the sun
was not yet seeping though my windows
I heard her chanting
with all those tunes
that had turned into
a purple
hue.
And me 
feeling the light 
that fell through shades of wonder
gave in
to sorrow. 

Who would think to shred a blossom
before it could be opened?
It felt like that 
whenever I missed her 
and thought of her passing
on.
Sad tokens of roses and deserted vases
I will forever remember them
in closets tied fast 
to memories 
and a young girls potential dreams
and the gift of untitled songs.

Who would tread on that path?
The one that a girl would know
and possibly find herself in?
Not me
nor you?
Not even a startled lark
would paddle that row.

I wear a hat on formal occasions
just like my grandma used to do.
I decided later
after my last gallery opening
it was indeed an most appropriate
fashion statement
for me
to do.

Within my insecurities
I measured it
that hat
so its band fit
making me feel 
as my grandma would insist upon
well groomed.

And yes
indeed
 it was quite fitting
blue bonnet
in fashion I wore it 
in honor of a young girl 
who was never to meet a history
for she
was only doomed. 
Never to know gallery openings
at all
nor paintings
that filled a room.

I cannot count the stanzas
to poems that I write
not anymore
no
but I fill a notebook and stroke its moods
that my own mind
explores.
And
into this gloom felt
it all
so overwhelmingly
intrudes.

Oft times people strike a mood
and let me say here now
that in this tale
that stride 
does indeed
include
"you".
YOU made me feel too sad
and 
too alone
and wanting for a girl 
to rise
despite her passing
long ago.
And knowing she was not singing
anymore 
beyond 
a larks glistening eyes
or inside anyones heart
but mine
and maybe
her sister
mother and father.
I felt distracted
by you
and your demanding
unknowing
mimes
despite the eulogy
time signs.

I think sometimes that I might not surface
again
and I'll be that girl who died
oh
but then
sinking into my pillow
late at night
I reflect
knowing
that she had passed
in front of me
ahh yes
dying eyes.
So I charm my memories
despite a damsels 
last
pitiful
shrinking 
sigh.

In the morning
I find
that I am opening my eyes
again
to meet whatever that day plans.
Routine takes me ore
just like everyone else
just like everyone else...
except
maybe
a young girl I have known
except
a young girl walking
beyond
a rules exclusive ride
who meets me when I think of her
and cautions me
to walk beyond the sadness
of her passing 
and my own
sorrowful 
eyes.

Kathy Ostman-Magnusen
30 August 2009
Copyright 2009