Anne Cameron Cutri's Open Salon Blog

From Ink Blots to a Metaphorical Narrative-Art Therapy Dir.

Thu, 24 May 2012 15:05:49 -0400

Creating art has the ability to reach the very depths of the brain where early development occurs. Children who have endured trauma often have memories stored there which cannot easily be expressed. The following directive has two parts. The "squiggle game" which was based on a traditional game for children in England, for which Winnicott introduced into the therapeutic realm. Quoting from Malchoidi's textbook:

"Based on his concept of the maturation process, Winnicot(1965) explained that infants go through a developmental stage in which they perceive that they create the objects around them and believe that they are undifferentiated from these objects. Winnicott emphasized the necessity for the "adult" therapist to embrace and provide a holding environment for the "infant" or developmentally arrested child's idea about creation.This process, in due course, helps the client to undergo proper separartion from the objects in his or her world and gain objectivity about the outside world (Winnicott, 1989a,1989c)."

Tanaka developed the squiggle drawing technique by seeing the potential of narrative interaction. Based on the traditional kamishibai, the traditional Japanese art of picture card show or four- frame cartoons, he encouraged his clients to creat a story from the squiggles. He also developed the techniques of the "Egg Drawing" and the "Cave Drawing" which are rich in symbolic expression to encourage storytelling.

This art therapy directive was based on these innovators. The assignment was first to draw "squiggles" in ink washes. From the ink washes write a story and illustrate it in a five-frame visual narrative. When writing the narrative we were to utilize metaphor, and imagine we would be using it with a child who was experiencing depression or PTSD.

Here are the ink washes I started with:

I chose to approach my story for a child with PTSD. Here it is:

Once a upon a time there was a bird named Andre. He was of an age where it was time to leave the nest and learn how to fly. Andre couldn’t bear the thought of trying again. You see, he wasn’t always afraid. He has always been good at everything, with little effort. So he thought flying would be a cinch. However the first time he tried he stumbled , crashing into the nearest branch. All of his friends were watching and started laughing and making fun of him. He was too dizzy from the crash to respond, except to slowly climb his way back up into the nest. He hasn’t left since.

Sometimes Andre felt lonely. Sometimes all he could think of was that fateful day. His stomach tied up in knots as he replayed his first flight attempt and the laughter of his peers echoed in his mind. Outside the nest seemed like a very scary place. Sometimes even inside the nest was overwhelming, because every time he thought of leaving he got very nervous. His mother began to tell him of other birds who were mighty and fierce and who had become heroes. It was then she told him the meaning of his name. Andre means brave. He began to consider that if his name meant being brave surely somewhere inside of him was bravery.

Andre’s mother told him stories of birds that rescued princesses, of the Firebird whose feathers were illuminated and dropped pearls from his beak to the poor people so they could buy food. His favorite story was about the Phoenix. This magical creature lived to be 500 years old where he would then renew his strength, by setting a magical renewing fire to his nest and himself. This magical fire would clear out all the bad things that happened in the last 500 years and so the Phoenix could begin again. Andre imagined what he would burn up in his own fire.

He drew a picture of the other birds that laughed at him. He drew a picture of himself crashing. He drew a picture of his mother crying and any other things he could think of that were not happy. He drew himself with tears. Then just like the Phoenix, he drew fire over everything so that he could make it disappear in his mind. He found that he made a lot of these drawings over many weeks. And then one day it seemed he had a new strength. He began to feel the bravery that was in his name. He began to think that he might be able to be a hero like other birds in the stories his mother told him. He knew he would probably have to get out of the nest to see if he could help others.

Suddenly he heard cry near a neighboring nest. It was little Sophia! She was in trouble! She was stuck in a branch and there was a cat nearby. Andre gathered up his feathers, took a deep breath, and was perched on the edge of the nest. Then he heard her again. “Help!” Sophia cried. Without hesitation, Andre flew toward the cries. As if he had been flying forever, he swooped in and scooped up Sophia and delivered her safely to her nest. Every one cheered. “Andre saved her! He is a Hero!!. Andre landed gracefully and proudly back in his nest. Standing at the edge, he smiled, knowing he had become his name.

I chose to do a narrative about PTSD because I have personal experience with it. I have known people who have gone to war and returned. I also know a child who may also be dealing with PTSD. Recurrent thoughts whether consciously or subconsciously encircle the mind of the character, Andre, like a snare. The nest imagery is represented both as a safe haven and a place of stagnation. The prickled edges of the nest with red around it in the first scene illustrates that. I made the shape of the bird in a slumped position and chose the zig-zagged, dripping pattern to make his body, as it reflected his inner turmoil. The blue color added the feeling of depression. When my daughter saw the first collage, she remarked “Eew that is depressing!” I knew I was one the right track.

In the next scene Andre is standing up straight in a peach tone and his mother is animated, speaking of the meaning of his name and other bird stories. I purposely chose a name that meant bravery. The third scene represents how Andre is imagining the other birds and the bird shape has fully spread wings in golds and oranges. Each scene progressively suggests recovery from the trauma by re-framing the events to be positive. By the fourth scene, I bring in the concept of fire, one of simultaneous destruction and renewal. By virtually fighting fire with fire, the story suggests that Andre has the power to change his situation.

In the final scene, Andre has imagined himself to be so much stronger and brave and manifests his projection by saving a young bird from the claws of a cat. Once again I used the metaphor of flight not in the traditional way as it represents fleeing from something, but in this case flying toward his destiny, which is his name. The child would be able to identify with this story on many levels. By ushering a child through a story of turning around helplessness to a place of power, using animals that are not traditional thought of as strong, (as compared to a lion) could encourage that child to think beyond the framework that held him down and be able to visualize a more promising future and outcome.

nature paintings

Art Therapy Directive: Self Mask

Fri, 11 May 2012 15:05:23 -0400

Mask making is a very primal artistic expression. Masks have been made by tribes for ceremony and ritual. There is symbolism with masks that represent the “masks” we wear every day. The person we show to the outside world can be very different to what is going on internally. This process could be seen in its highest form as a burial of an old self and resurrection of the new self. It is an intense project and not for the faint at heart. Especially for those who have been wearing a certain mask for a long time as Hinz and Ragsdell (1990) found in their study with bulimic women. However, if I were to convince an administration that a certain group of creative intelligent, strong individuals where in a stage of their therapeutic process and were able to handle this AT directive I would propose the following:

1. Mask making has the potential to help the client move from an old persona to a new one. Masks can reveal or conceal. They can protect from the outside or reveal a new identity. They can help a client try on a “new face” with peers to “test the waters” before showing this new vulnerability to the world. Masks can be a terrific fantasy expression in bringing the subconscious to the surface. It can also be celebratory, in a ritual of achievement or initiation.

2 I propose mask making group therapy over several sessions. Group therapy offsets the cost of buying bandages in bulk. It justifies the set-up and clean-up and setting aside a relatively large room with a sink nearby to be reserved for this occasion. For approximately $150.00 which includes, large bottles of paint, a variety of brushes and a box of bandages, this project could help 10 or more individuals in a therapeutic setting.

3. Not only would a group setting be more cost effective it would add to role playing and other creative expression once the masks were made.

The mask above was made with plaster bandages (used to make casts for broken bones) applied directly to my face. We paired up in class, and after putting plastic around the eyes and covering my face with vaseline, the wet bandages were applied. I recalled being in art school years ago and after George Segal, created a sculpture by dividing into groups and applying the bandages to a portion of the volunteer's body.

George Segal "Street Crossing" 1992

It is quite a different experience when you are the one the bandages are being applied to and slowly your eyes and mouth are being covered as this plaster begins to harden.

The process was very unnerving both as the recpient and the applicator. The directive: (Mercyhurst Universtiy, Professor Robert Tavani) After the mask was dry, sand and paint as realistically as possible and add one thing, either by paint or collage, to show something about yourself that others may not know.

My mask represents two sides of me. When a person views my mask they would see one eye closed and one eye opened. They may not see that right away as half of the face is covered with red netting. I tried to make the mask relatively realistic, though the medium doesn’t lend itself to that, because of the coarseness of the plaster bandage. As much as I sanded it and tried to fill in the crevices with paint the face appears pock marked as if I had bad acne as a teen. Nonetheless, the mask gives a sort of serious, solemn demeanor. I debated whether to let my whimsical side come through, but I decided to try to be as honest as possible.

The red netting represents the bondage I have felt from others in my past however, the peacock feather placed outside the netting represents my intuition, my spiritual side that has been my strength. The eye closed behind the mask, represents not only that bondage, but also looking within, which that bondage forced me to do. The two sides also represent past and future. The uncovered side looks out to the future with hope and promise.

I was very uncomfortable both applying the mask to my partner and having the mask applied. Before we started I was very apprehensive. I was worried that I wasn’t going fast enough for my partner and I worried for her internal processing. Though my partner didn’t exhibit any discomfort, in fact, communicated in writing that she was fine and encouraged me, I

was still uncomfortable. I didn’t like getting her all messy. I didn’t like being responsible for her mask, in fact, I feel I did a terrible job for her because I rushed and was nervous. In a way, I manifested my fear, I was worried about doing a bad job and I did, and probably made more of a mess for her. (In the end, her mask looked great and was able to sand it into submission) I am not used to working with someone else in my artwork. I have always been uncomfortable creating in a crowd or group. If someone asked me to demonstrate at an art fair, the only way I would do it is I had an almost complete piece and did the final touches. Interestingly, as a private art teacher demonstrating, I don’t have that apprehension at all.

On the receiving end of the mask making, it was hard to trust someone I barely know, to cover my face in a hardening medium. I have taken a mud bath in Calestoga, CA. and remember having to get over the whole "being buried in alive" reaction. Stepping into a vat of heavy warm mud and then having it applied to your face and shoulders was quite an experience. Because this was new, in a classroom setting, I wasn’t sure how I’d feel once I had my eyes and mouth covered. I have worked with plaster before, and I remembered it got hot, so I expected to feel a suffocating feeling. The plaster felt cool, and I knew I could take the mask off at any time if I had to. I did ask my partner through writing to please hurry, I didn’t care if it was sloppy, and I just wanted to get done. As a much older student, I’m already a bit insecure about my age and the way I look as I grow older. Though I see most of my fellow students as my daughters--as a woman I didn’t like being that vulnerable covered in Vaseline and without makeup.When I admitted that to myself , I chastised myself immediately for being so superficial. I feel pretty certain, if I were in my twenties it wouldn’t be as bad, because then, I was free spirited and liked challenges. I may have even seen it like a spa as some of the other students may have. Now life has knocked me down so much, I’m a little uneasy on my feet, and find I am much more sensitive. The experience almost felt medical, it reminded me of all the things that a friend of mine had gone through. It was hard enough imagining him in a full body cast, now I had a bit of an experience in a facial cast and frankly, I don’t know how he did it.

As much as the mask as a symbol seems like an obvious metaphor, the process was what made this experience revealing.

To read more about Mask-Making including a brief history:

References

Dunn-Snow PhD, ATR-BC, Peggy and & Susan Joy-Smellie BA, CCLS (2000): Teaching Art Therapy Techniques: Mask-making, A Case in Point, Art Therapy: Journal of the American Art Therapy Association, 17:2, 125-131

spiritual mixed media

Internal Household of the Mind:An Art Therapy Directive

Tue, 17 Apr 2012 23:04:16 -0400

If you missed it earlier, I’ve returned to school to get an Art Therapy Degree.(Mercyhurst University, Professor Robert Tavani originated this directive). Sometimes I feel crazy going back to school to get , yes, my first degree. I will have to go on to get a Master’s degree to be licensed. To go into such debt at this stage of the game seems, illogical from some angles, but if I don’t do it now --when? One of the assignments was to do an “internal household of the mind” We had to do at least 4 rooms, one being the “art therapy room”, one being the “unconscious room”. We were to represent people with objects, mine being represented by milkweed pods, a walnut, a shell, and an acorn.

First let me say that I dislike working with cardboard, but considering I used worn sand blasted items found at Presque Isle on Lake Erie, the whitewash on cardboard-- fit. Secondly, let me say I was wishing I had the dexterity of an 18 year old (like most of my fellow students) when it came to constructing the hammock with the shell in it and working in tiny spaces.

By doing directives, that we as future art therapists may give as an exploratory assignment to a client, we have first hand experience in the complexity of the project and what emotions may surface because of it. The directive can be modified and simplified to fit the needs of the client. The following photos are my internal household.

The inspiration for my house came while taking a stroll at Presque Isle. I’ve always been happiest when I am near water. I enjoy beach combing, especially, at the beginning of the season before the park machines move away all the debris, and there is a plethora of driftwood and other beach treasures. I chose to make my house a triangle shape, all sides equal, because it has long been a symbol for me. It represents the sacred trinity, and it is half of the star of David. It points upward toward the higher realms, and the triangle configured in different ways creates many other shapes.

I chose to make the art therapy room on the bottom floor. I represented the people in that room with milkweed pods. I chose to show a sand mandala, because of its meditative quality. I show the end of the process where the mandala is wiped away. This is a great exercise I would think, in detachment. I am too attached to my artworks, and I would like to be that free from the creations I make, by being able to “let go” of it at the end. I made a ladder in a spiral DNA-like shape that connects all the rooms. The spiral is another sacred shape and a recurring theme in my work. You can see it in nature as the foundation of architecture in shells, pine cones, and sunflowers to name a few.

Interestingly, I chose to put the unconscious at the top. If the unconscious and the subconscious are the same, each of the words brings a different image to me. In the past, when I have done Gestalt work on my dreams I would find my subconscious in the basement. Maybe because of the prefix “sub” that means under. But today, the unconscious is on the top and in a way, more easily accessible. I depicted this room to be small, but also a triangle because the unconscious is connected to the collective unconscious which is connected to the creator. Inside I dangled sequins to show sparks of light or insight into the unconscious. The whole room is covered in purple sand, giving it a velvety feel.

It is surrounded by milkweed seeds because they’re visually fragile and ethereal, but also they are seeds, which represent insight as in a “seed of an idea or thought”. What does this say about me? The unconscious, though still a mystery in many ways, is accessible and more strongly connected to my conscious mind than it has been before.

The next room is the intellectual room. You can climb the stairs to get there or go up the DNA ladder. The person there is the walnut. With all its crevices, it made a nice brain representation. This area is bigger too, than the other two rooms, because the intellect is one that is used and accepted in our society and world as the foundation for interaction, education and civilization. It’s what separates us from the animals, or so it is commonly thought. To the left is a hammock, with a person represented as a shell. This is the rest area. Again the spiral symbolism takes shape in the shell and the decor on the back wall. The next room is small and not as dark, but only able to enter through the DNA ladder. This is the contemplation room and the person is represented as a nut with a cross on it.

Arrangement of characters: I arranged three of the characters in the art therapy room, because there is usually at least two, the client and the counselor. The third one can represent either group therapy or observation of therapy. There is only one in the intellectual, contemplative, and sleep areas because I sleep alone, I read alone and I pray alone. These things you can do in your mind and your body is still involved to a certain degree. There are no people in the unconscious room, because I see that purely as a spiritual, intuitive connection that doesn’t involve the body.

What the unconscious room says about me: The triangle once again is mimicked in the posture of a meditative pose. Sitting cross-legged with arms relaxed our bodies are in a triangle. Though it may look enclosed it represents to me a wide-open place with many possibilities. It is also very private and individual at first, and at the same time, all-inclusive.

One recalls Marwencol when thinking of this experience in a therapeutic way. “Playing house” is a natural imaginative game for children. Certainly for girls and there are many toys to encourage this imaginary game. Building a house and using one’s own symbols as character representations is an exemplary exploratory project. Historically as an art project, miniature architecture and towns are used in professional depictions to communicate a vision of a commercial building, home or subdivision. Hobbyists enjoy making miniature environments when playing with miniature railroads and surrounding neighborhoods, or making their dream house with miniature furniture and accessories.

Therapeutically this project can reveal much to the client and counselor. It can show how one interacts with others, how one knows oneself, how parts of the conscious and unconscious are connected, and the structure of the id or ego in the construction of the house. This project also demands a great deal of decision making and physical dexterity. I could see that this project would be much too complex for many people—namely geriatrics, people with mental retardation, or limited motor skills, and to children. It may help adults with bipolar, schizophrenia, or any displacement or severe mental disorder, to see how the client compartmentalizes or connects events or parts of themselves. One may simplify the project for clients, by supplying a pre-made box, or limiting the project to one room. For children and geriatrics, other elements would be provided, and the counselor could do the project with the client. For instance, ask the client what object would represent a family member, friend or someone else in their life. Then ask where they would place the object and what other “people” are in the house. Another way to simplify the project is by drawing the house and its components. If the project needed to be even more simplistic, for mentally challenged individuals or really small children, the house could be pre-drawn. Still another way to do it is to have pre-drawn household elements like shapes for rooms, with different objects that could represent décor in the room or people. The client could then put together the elements like a puzzle or blocks.

Over all I am enjoying the process of learning about art therapy, I wish I could do it everyday and get my degree a lot quicker. I hope you have enjoyed a little peak into art therapy.

TO SEE MORE OF ANNE CUTRI'S WORK CLICK HERE

mystical canvas prints

Marie Howe's Poetry

Sun, 15 Apr 2012 16:04:47 -0400

I first heard of Marie Howe, yesterday on NPR's "Fresh Air" with Terry Gross. One of the poems Marie read were "Prayer" from her book "Kingdom of Ordinary Time" which I share here:

Prayer, Marie Howe

Every day I want to speak with you. And every day something more important
calls for my attention — the drugstore, the beauty products, the luggage

I need to buy for the trip.
Even now I can hardly sit here

among the falling piles of paper and clothing, the garbage trucks outside
already screeching and banging.

The mystics say you are as close as my own breath.
Why do I flee from you?

My days and nights pour through me like complaints
and become a story I forgot to tell.

Help me. Even as I write these words I am planning
to rise from the chair as soon as I finish this sentence.

Her poetry speaks the unspoken: of rights of passage, of distractions from everyday life, of searching for something more. I was struck with the honesty and rawness of her work and searched further and found some other poems.

"What the Angels Left," by Marie Howe

At first the scissors seemed perfectly harmless.
They lay on the kitchen table in the blue light.

Then I began to notice them all over the house,
at night in the pantry, or filling up bowls in the cellar

where there should have been apples. They appeared under rugs,
lumpy places where one would usually settle before the fire,

or suddenly shining in the sink at the bottom of soupy water.
Once, I found a pair in the garden, stuck in turned dirt

among the new bulbs, and one night under my pillow,
I felt something like a cool long tooth and pulled them out

to lie next to me in the dark. Soon after that I began
to collect them, filling boxes, old shopping bags,

every suitcase I owned. I grew slightly uncomfortable
when company came. What if someone noticed them

when looking for forks or replacing dried dishes? I longed
to throw them out, but how could I get rid of something

that felt oddly like grace? It occurred to me finally
that I was meant to use them, and I resisted a growing compulsion

to cut my hair, although in moments of great distraction,
I thought it was my eyes they wanted, or my soft belly

- exhausted, in winter, I laid them out on the lawn.
The snow fell quite as usual, without any apparent hesitation

or discomfort. In spring, as expected, they were gone.

In their place, a slight metallic smell, and the dear muddy earth.

What The Living Do | Marie Howe

Johnny, the kitchen sink has been clogged for days,
some utensil probably fell down there.
And the Drano won’t work but smells dangerous, a
nd the crusty dishes have piled up

waiting for the plumber I still haven’t called. This is the
everyday we spoke of.
It’s winter again: the sky’s a deep headstrong blue, and
the sunlight pours through

the open living room windows because the heat’s on too
high in here, and I can’t turn it off.
For weeks now, driving, or dropping the bag of groceries
in the street, the bag breaking,

I’ve been thinking: This is what the living do. And
yesterday, hurrying along those
wobbly bricks in the Cambridge sidewalk, spilling my
coffee down my wrist and sleeve,

I thought it again, and again later, when buying a
hairbrush: This is it.
Parking. Slamming the car door shut in the cold.
What you called that yearning.

What you finally gave up. We want the spring to come
and the winter to pass. We want
whoever to call or not call, a letter, a kiss — we want
more and more and then more of it.

But there are moments, walking, when I catch a glimpse
of myself in the window glass,
say the window of the corner video store, and I’m
gripped by a cherishing so deep

for my own blowing hair, chapped face, and unbuttoned
coat that I’m speechless. I am living. I remember you.

You can find more about Marie Howe and her books here:

http://www.mariehowe.com/

spiritual digital art

HeidiBeth's Open Call: Positivity-Art Therapy a blessing

Fri, 2 Mar 2012 11:03:30 -0500

I am grateful for thrift stores, returning to college, and my daughter. I am still in the “struggling financially” category, but I am grateful because it has pushed me to go back to college. I have finally found my calling—Art Therapy.Studying art therapy, you not only are the therapist but the patient. The above was an assignment of a fantasy collage. I was able to let go of more grief, losing Pat, by creating this digital collage of my art work and photos, to imagine me being in heaven him. This guided art making really works! I truly love doing research papers, too, particularly in that field. My daughter is overcoming anxiety and Art Therapy is a field that can, and has, helped her. Art has long been a therapeutic endeavor but “Art Therapy” is a licensed profession in the psychological field that has great potential. I can’t wait until I graduate so I can help others, something that I have always longed to do, and now I will able to do it –and get paid!
Thrift stores have great potential for knowledge. One such recent purchase I included in my research paper on anxiety in adolescent girls. The book, “A Woman’s Book of Life: The Biology, Psychology and Spirituality of the Feminine Life Cycle, by Joan Borysenko, was very informative and well written. Do you know that between 20-30 percent of people suffer from anxiety? I didn’t. I didn’t get it from that book, but what I did get is; with all the changes going on in adolescents’ brain and body, it’s no wonder they are irritable. Another purchase was an old movie “Patch Adams”. He pioneered humor as therapy and still does at the Gesundtheit Institute. I appreciate people thinking out of the box and creating a better place for human beings through artistic means. Another such artist, is Vic Muniz, who went to the biggest landfill in the world and made art with the “garbage pickers”. Entitled Wasteland take a look at this clip:

This is so inspiring to me.

It is difficult as a parent to see your child suffer. It is even more difficult not to rescue them every time. Sometimes we as parents, need to let our children fall and or suffer a bit so they can learn how to find the resources within, to help themselves. I have to admit, this is very difficult for me to find the balance. To nurture, or to practice "tough love" is consistently battling in my mind. I am grateful because it thows me back on myself and challenges me to grow. When it's just a mother and a daughter, there is a danger of the two getting entangled. Her issues become mine and my issues become hers. That is why I am in counseling as well. For anyone out there who is dealing with mental health issues, read A Colony of Losers post. He's telling his experience first hand, the inner struggles, and what works . I am grateful for people who have the courage to talk about taboo issues with dignity and grace.

It's okay to talk about your troubles, if you don't have any, you're not human. I am grateful for my beliefs and a connection to God. Though in times of trouble it is hard to find that connection, it will find you--- if you just ask!

christian canvas prints