I recently attended an art therapy training. I expected a sterile presentation on therapeutic sentence stems for client’s to project on.
Instead an artist–in the deepest, profoundest definition of that word–stood before me. Art is Esther Wilhelm’s medium to express her life story, her life story penetrating every line, color, selected item, and word of her pieces.
(Here’s a link to Esther Wilhelm’s story http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WljH6-gBFEg)
Esther’s story was both vulnerable and powerful. Esther apologized for her tears explaining Continue reading
This was a good week for us. And it’s important for me to acknowledge that and celebrate it. I think there may be better days ahead because a major stressor has wound down. I’m not sure what to post. Something recent? Something in the past? But I look at the recent stuff and it’s a little too raw. Too fresh to put out there.
So I’m posting something from my past. From my journal. This entry is part of a longer journal entry I wrote after the event, describing the night of his first serious attempt that occurred more than 5 years ago. My husband called me, his family, and friends and said his goodbyes. A bunch of people searched for him, and miraculously he was found by a cousin.
My dad insists on taking me to the hospital. I’m relieved. I don’t want to be alone. We pull into the parking lot and David’s family pulls in at the same time. It’s awkward. I don’t know what Continue reading