Reuters.com - Art therapy reduces anxiety in kids with asthma
http://in.reuters.com/article/email/idINTRE64K5MZ20100521
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Saturday, July 16, 2011
Sunday, July 10, 2011
art therapy, reiki and drumming
Intention is the most vital part of Reiki.
While I strike my hand drum or beat my djembe, I hold the intention for the client to find his/her own rhythm on the drum. I 'hold the space' for them so to speak. Once they have gotten into their 'groove', I explore if it is the right time to silence my drum while holding the original intention. If it is beneficial that I strike my drum again to continue to hold the intention I may do that, provided of course I feel the approval of the 'partner'. When I sense that the client is waiting/hoping for me to join I will also immediately do that and thus we get a "conversation' going.
Thus we come to the perfect essence of improvisation!
From this activity we can bring our feelings into painting or clay modelling.
I recently did this with a young man on the autism spectrum, with quite stunning results such as speaking a full sentence, making sounds during his drumming. Beaming smiles and energized happy body language.
We will continue further in this exploration of communication.
Try it, everyone and everything has rhythm!
While I strike my hand drum or beat my djembe, I hold the intention for the client to find his/her own rhythm on the drum. I 'hold the space' for them so to speak. Once they have gotten into their 'groove', I explore if it is the right time to silence my drum while holding the original intention. If it is beneficial that I strike my drum again to continue to hold the intention I may do that, provided of course I feel the approval of the 'partner'. When I sense that the client is waiting/hoping for me to join I will also immediately do that and thus we get a "conversation' going.
Thus we come to the perfect essence of improvisation!
From this activity we can bring our feelings into painting or clay modelling.
I recently did this with a young man on the autism spectrum, with quite stunning results such as speaking a full sentence, making sounds during his drumming. Beaming smiles and energized happy body language.
We will continue further in this exploration of communication.
Try it, everyone and everything has rhythm!
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
Summer Wind by William Cullen Bryant
It is a sultry day; the sun has drank
The dew that lay upon the morning grass,
There is no rustling in the lofty elm
That canopies my dwelling, and its shade
Scarce cools me. All is silent, save the faint
And interrupted murmur of the bee,
Settling on the sick flowers, and then again
Instantly on the wing. The plants around
Feel the too potent fervor; the tall maize
Rolls up its long green leaves; the clover droops
Its tender foliage, and declines its blooms.
But far in the fierce sunshine tower the hills,
With all their growth of woods, silent and stern,
As if the scorching heat and dazzling light
Were but an element they loved. Bright clouds,
Motionless pillars of the brazen heaven;--
Their bases on the mountains--their white tops
Shining in the far ether--fire the air
With a reflected radiance, and make turn
The gazer's eye away. For me, I lie
Languidly in the shade, where the thick turf,
Yet virgin from the kisses of the sun,
Retains some freshness, and I woo the wind
That still delays its coming. Why so slow,
Gentle and voluble spirit of the air?
Oh, come and breathe upon the fainting earth
Coolness and life. Is it that in his caves
He hears me? See, on yonder woody ridge,
The pine is bending his proud top, and now,
Among the nearer groves, chestnut and oak
Are tossing their green boughs about. He comes!
Lo, where the grassy meadow runs in waives!
The deep distressful silence of the scene
Breaks up with mingling of unnumbered sounds
And universal motion. He is come,
Shaking a shower of blossoms from the shrubs,
And bearing on the fragrance; and he brings
Music of birds, and rustling of young boughs,
And sound of swaying branches, and the voice
Of distant waterfalls. All the green herbs
Are stirring in his breath; a thousand flowers,
By the road-side and the borders of the brook,
Nod gaily to each other; glossy leaves
Are twinkling in the sun, as if the dew
Were on them yet, and silver waters break
Into small waves and sparkle as he comes.
The dew that lay upon the morning grass,
There is no rustling in the lofty elm
That canopies my dwelling, and its shade
Scarce cools me. All is silent, save the faint
And interrupted murmur of the bee,
Settling on the sick flowers, and then again
Instantly on the wing. The plants around
Feel the too potent fervor; the tall maize
Rolls up its long green leaves; the clover droops
Its tender foliage, and declines its blooms.
But far in the fierce sunshine tower the hills,
With all their growth of woods, silent and stern,
As if the scorching heat and dazzling light
Were but an element they loved. Bright clouds,
Motionless pillars of the brazen heaven;--
Their bases on the mountains--their white tops
Shining in the far ether--fire the air
With a reflected radiance, and make turn
The gazer's eye away. For me, I lie
Languidly in the shade, where the thick turf,
Yet virgin from the kisses of the sun,
Retains some freshness, and I woo the wind
That still delays its coming. Why so slow,
Gentle and voluble spirit of the air?
Oh, come and breathe upon the fainting earth
Coolness and life. Is it that in his caves
He hears me? See, on yonder woody ridge,
The pine is bending his proud top, and now,
Among the nearer groves, chestnut and oak
Are tossing their green boughs about. He comes!
Lo, where the grassy meadow runs in waives!
The deep distressful silence of the scene
Breaks up with mingling of unnumbered sounds
And universal motion. He is come,
Shaking a shower of blossoms from the shrubs,
And bearing on the fragrance; and he brings
Music of birds, and rustling of young boughs,
And sound of swaying branches, and the voice
Of distant waterfalls. All the green herbs
Are stirring in his breath; a thousand flowers,
By the road-side and the borders of the brook,
Nod gaily to each other; glossy leaves
Are twinkling in the sun, as if the dew
Were on them yet, and silver waters break
Into small waves and sparkle as he comes.
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
grief and art therapy
I have gone through a grief period over the past three years. Actually the grief started to grow five years ago, when my father was getting more and more ill. I cared for him and my mother visiting daily, helping a little, taking him for a walk. He crossed the threshold now already three years ago. Sense of time has completely changed for me. It is as though I live on the "inside" of time now. Mother and I grieved together for the past three years. Now she too passed on to the other side a few months ago.
Art therapy helps with grief. Sharing and expressing experiences, feelings, thoughts and questions through the art work can often be much more impacting than just words.
Using moist clay I sculpted my mother holding my father up as best as she could while he tried to get out of bed. It instilled in me great love and compassion for how they functioned together, making each day the best they could. The modelling of the clay brought me into a reality of their life, and at the same time a perspective of myself as an "outsider" with my own feelings about them and their situation of suffering and glory.
Painting with watercolor is also very helpful. I painted one day the blue stormy sea and sky. Blue can bring out a sense of longing.
My father loved it.
Now that they both are gone, I am so fortunate to provide art therapy with people in hospice. The sharing is intense, the poems ring out truth and understanding. A deep sense of belonging can come about by doing art therapy in a group, and one on one with the therapist.
Art therapy helps with grief. Sharing and expressing experiences, feelings, thoughts and questions through the art work can often be much more impacting than just words.
Using moist clay I sculpted my mother holding my father up as best as she could while he tried to get out of bed. It instilled in me great love and compassion for how they functioned together, making each day the best they could. The modelling of the clay brought me into a reality of their life, and at the same time a perspective of myself as an "outsider" with my own feelings about them and their situation of suffering and glory.
Painting with watercolor is also very helpful. I painted one day the blue stormy sea and sky. Blue can bring out a sense of longing.
My father loved it.
Now that they both are gone, I am so fortunate to provide art therapy with people in hospice. The sharing is intense, the poems ring out truth and understanding. A deep sense of belonging can come about by doing art therapy in a group, and one on one with the therapist.
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Elder Life Engagement: Proven Benefits of Art Programs for Seniors Living...
Elder Life Engagement: Proven Benefits of Art Programs for Seniors Living...: "With a slow-to-rebound economy and tight Activities budgets, one of the biggest challenges for Activities Directors who work with Seni..."
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)