Birte,
The idea of my Parkinson’s diagnosis feels so new for me, yet in other ways it makes perfect sense, answering questions in hindsight like fitting in a puzzle piece. Your warm and thoughtful answers are much appreciated.

Interesting connection, it makes me want to watch answers from anyone seeing the flashing lights and or patterns of lights— to note if they also have had optical migraines in their history. I suppose we could be more predisposed to the odd effect.

My optical migraine was brought on by an angiogram, to photograph my left cerebral artery aneurysm. I saw a flat oval spreading across the ceiling, nearly filling it—rippling as if floating on water. It was metallic pink and iridescent. Lasted 20 mins. or so, which seems to be the norm.
(My later angiograms brought on a small stroke after each procedure, causing several months of moderate to mild aphasia. The small blood vessels throughout my brain are frail and abnormal. No more angiograms for me. My last mild stroke was in September of last year).

My daughter had optical migraines due to hydrocephalus and brain and spine cancer treatments. (Stable now over five years, bless her). She often saw grids, and geometric shapes, and what she said looked like chicken wire.

After leaving two doctors, I have one I am very happy with. I imagine it will take adjustment to find a good balance with my meds. Good to note sometimes ‘less is more’—it can work that way on Requip.

It’s so nice of you to share the stories of your work and artist’s you care for. I hadn’t heard of the printmakers, was able to find a Harold Boyd from Illinois on the Internet regarding a book available, but no close ups. If that’s him, it looked like lovely and interesting work.

Glasswork has always fascinated me, when I was in high school you could visit a studio in town. Such a process to observe. We have some small pieces from local artists. Got to see Dale Chihuly’s work once. We loved walking beneath a glass ceiling, filled with his unusual organic shapes, like being under a fantastic imaginary reef.

How I respect your beautiful craft. I loved the feel of clay, but could never center a pot well! My grandparents, when I was little—had a ceramics studio (not hand crafted, but with poured molds for plates and such), and taught ceramics to the blind members of a local support group.

Art is a wonderful thing. My hope is that as long as I continue to find ways to do mine, in some measure, it will go a long way in keeping me well. My daughter is legally blind, and spends part of each day drawing beautiful angels. Good inspiration for all of us.

Wishing you all the best,
Polliwog