Oliver....the boy with a secret

Back in the day before there was something called 

''music therapy'' and Cognitive Behaviour Therapy,

I was hired by the head psychiatrist at a very large

''medical/hospital institution'' as a ''music therapist''.

There were a few reasons as to why she hired me: 

she was my best friend's mother, she knew me,

she knew that I was a passionate student of all things

music, and she also knew that I was very interested in 

psychology and mental health.

Whenever my friend's mother was available for a

chat I would take the opportunity to ask her about

all things soul, body and mind.

I can't remember when or why, but I remember asking 

Kerstin(her name) if music was ever used as a

kind of therapy to help troubled people.

Long story short: Kerstin was open to the idea

of using music as a language of communication

and tasked me to make a plan.

Some time later, I was hired as a sort of music teacher(there was

no such thing as a music therapist at that time) and was

given two hours a day with a number of

hand picked ''students'' chosen by general staff/nurses.

It only took me one day to discover that the ''students''

that had been chosen for me were the most difficult,

hard to handle and understand patients on the wards.

Let me give you a brief introduction to my students/pupils:

Theodora, a teenaged girl who never spoke a word but

was quick to laughter. She was never still but spent most

of her days riding her bicycle at full speed all through the grounds

of the institution while shrieking with laughter and delight.

Ben, a person labeled as a boy though born without

any genitals and obsessively fascinated with feces.

John, a middle-aged man who never spoke but found vomiting 

so exciting that he kept sticking his fingers down his throat

constantly and consequently kept throwing up.

Matteus, a young man who never spoke or even looked

 my way until the day when I played the ''New World Symphony''

 by Antonin Dvorak on the record player and he suddenly

and perfectly started to sing along with the melody.

Sugartop, a young boy who was born without a cranium

to house his brain. Due to the risk of injury he was confined

to stay in his bed and the reason he was called ''Sugartop''

he told me one day, was that his head ''looked'' like a sugartop.

Louie, a man born with Down's syndrome. A very strong,

determined and totally sex obsessed man. I was just a skinny

18 year old girl and no match for him so after some commotion

 I had to cease his lessons.

Oliver, a man in his 30's, wheelchair bound and

 afflicted with hydrocephalus(water on the brain).

From the moment I started my lessons with him he would

have a go at most of the instruments. There was something

 special about him although he never spoke. He would laugh,

grunt and make other kinds of sounds but he wouldn't use

his voice to speak. We connected through music and he

especially loved Janis Joplin. Janis would make him excited

and he would wave his arms in the air as if he was dancing 

and when he did, I would wave my arms in the air too.

Then one day something extraordinary happened.

He motioned for me to come close. I leaned in

close to his face and as I did so he whispered

to me:

 ''I can speak, I can even walk, I just don't

do it. You see, I have been here for so long that

it is my home. If they know that I can talk and walk,

they will send me away and I don't want that.

Here I have a safe home and people who look after

me, if they send me away I don't know what will

happen to me.

 I can think, I can speak, I can read,

I can walk and I feel a lot of things but it is my

secret to keep, so please don't tell anyone.''

Dumbfounded I looked at Oliver and then whispered

in his ear that I would never tell anyone.

And until this very moment, I have never told anyone.

What I experienced during my time as a music teacher

 at the Institution,

in hindsight I now realize may possibly make a good

script for a horror/suspense movie interspersed with

moments of hilarity.

There were times when I felt as if I was actually

in a movie because some of the experiences I had

were so bizarre and difficult to make sense out of

that I had to put them in the basket marked:

To deal with when I'm older and wiser.

 

Difficult as it was, with each of my students/pupils

there were moments when I watched something

awaken and come alive in them as we shared the magic

and wonder of music together.

''Music expresses that which cannot be said

and on which it is impossible to be silent.''

(Victor Hugo)

about the image: graphite on paper

title: ''Oliver''

But what is it supposed to be???!! Well, how does one paint emotions?

When I was asked to write a piece on the paintings

in the Rothko Chapel, I was at first quite

chuffed. I mean, the man painted amazing large

pieces of colourful and strangely thought

provoking ''colour field'' paintings.

I don't know what I had expected but from the

outside, the Chapel looked more like a bunker than

 a Chapel. Unassuming. Modest.

As I walked in to the gallery/chapel I was immediately

''touched'' by a wave of something, something

intangible, something that I can only describe

as ''non-specific emotions''.

Placed in the middle of the octagon shaped chapel

were simple wooden benches and on

the walls hung a number of different sized

and shaped unframed ''black'' canvases.

There were no spotlights, only a soft, diffused 

natural light from the skylight.

I did a quick walk around looking at the paintings

and then sat down on one of the benches.

I didn't get it. What was the deal???

Considering that Mark Rothko's use of expressive colours

 and space was what had attracted me to his work, 

I was puzzled as to what thoughts and emotions

 could have contributed to the making

of these huge black paintings.

I decided that I had to try and open my

mind wider, to try to stop all the biased chatter

swirling about loudly in my head and

just allow the paintings to ''speak'' to

me.

Slowly the chatter diminished in volume

and I felt a kind of stillness come over

me.

In the stillness I suddenly remembered

something Mark Rothko once said:

''A painting is not a picture of an

experience, but is the experience.

I'm interested only in expressing basic

human emotions.''

Emotions. The word reminded me of how

I felt when I came home with my freshly

acquired book of Mark's work.

It may seem ridiculous, but although the

paintings were not ''real'' but mere

photos of the paintings, each image I

looked at flooded me with emotions.

I decided to have another look at the paintings

in the chapel but this time, I was going to

allow my emotions to do the ''looking''.

While my eyes were gazing back and forth 

across one of the large black paintings,

I suddenly noticed that I was overwhelmed

with emotion and in that moment, the 

painting ceased to be black.

It became an experience.

Sometimes it can be hard to verbalize

our emotions and perhaps there may even

be emotions for which we don't even 

have words.

Standing there in the chapel,

filled with emotions I had no words for,

it dawned on me that perhaps this

was the very purpose of the chapel.

A non-denominational chapel/space for people

to visit for their very own

reasons:

 for reflection, meditation, prayer,

mourning, comfort, solitude, peace.....

to find themselves, to go beyond themselves.

When I finally walked out of the chapel

and into the sunlight I felt

as if I had traveled.

Traveled into, out of, and through....

Somewhere,

 I never before had traveled.

If you don't know who Mark Rothko is/was,

I recommend you to look him up.

Here's a little taste:

''Mark Rothko (1903-1970) belongs to the generation of American artists who completely revolutionized the essence and design of abstract painting. His stylistic evolution, from a figurative visual repertoire to an abstract style rooted in the active relationship of the observer to the painting, embodied the radical vision of a renaissance in painting. Rothko characterized this relationship as "a consummated experience between picture and onlooker. Nothing should stand between my painting and the viewer." His color formations indeed draw the observer into a space filled with an inner light. Rothko always resisted attempts to interpret his paintings. He was mainly concerned with the viewer's experience, the merging of work and recipient beyond verbal comprehension.'' 

 

(This is my feeble attempt at doing a colourfield

painting. It's just a small painting on paper.

And it's only to give a little clue to what it is.)

What is important to know about colourfield 

paintings is that they are REALLY hard to do.

They look easy but they are not.

It takes a deep understanding of how colours interact

 with each other and it involves numerous layers

of thin paints. 

But most of all, it's about painting something

intangible such as an emotion.

The above image is made on a pad just as an illustration

for the story.

I just imagined having visited the Rothko Chapel

in real life. Sadly, I have only visited it artificially.

If despair your way comes, ignore bumper-sticker solutions.........

 

The above image is a photo(edited in Elements) I shot 

of a very large sculpture. So large actually, that I was able to

 walk around inside of it.

(I'm not sure of what kind of metal the artist used to make the 

sculpture but my guess is

that it is made of some kind of treated bronze.)

 I guess I can now say with ''authority'' that I have actually 

been inside someone's/a ''head''?

Despair,

 I have noticed, is a word that when used

often seem to have the same effect as when someone 

yells: FIRE! 

In my opinion it is a loaded word, a ''dangerous'' word 

because I believe it connects us with very heavy emotions

that most of us prefer to avoid having anything to do with.

Despair, may I suggest, although not contagious

or visible, somehow still ''radiates'' something

that makes us feel uncomfortable in the

company of it.

Which is unfortunate because for a person who 

is experiencing despair and utter ''darkness'',

a kind gesture my be that little spark of hope

 that helps to turn the ''light'' back on.

As far as I can ascertain, despair is not something

that ''one falls into'', despair is the result of an accumulation

of a number of different emotional states experienced

over an x amount of time.

Although we may all deal with difficult/traumatic/challenging

 events in our own way and all have differing

points at which we may become overwhelmed,

I believe that there are some difficulties

that people experiencing despair have in common.

 

Such as:

Financial difficulties, chronic illnesses, loss of

any kind; a job, an animal, a beloved human, property,

relationship problems, workplace problems, to mention a few.

Like the lyrics of many a blues and country tune laments: 

''Feeling so down, all time blue,

 coz I lost my job, then my wife, 

and then my dog died too.''

Despair, although a very difficult emotional state

to go through, in my view is not something

a person can ''snap out of'', it's not the same

as being sad, miserable or ''negative'',

it is a very legitimate and valid emotional state.

Minimizing a person's emotions/feelings with

bumper sticker slogans like: don't be so negative,

look at the bright side, things could be worse,

at least you don't have.....etc. etc.

 rather than ''pep'' a person up often tends to

invalidate that person's emotions.

Two words come to mind that I believe

may be useful/helpful to offer someone

who is going through despair:

Support and Understanding.

Two acts that come to mind that I believe

may be useful/helpful to offer someone 

who is going through despair:

Listening and Compassion.

''Despair is vinegar from the wine of hope.

Despair is good.

Despair can be the nadir of one life

and the starting point of the ascent

into another,

better one.''

(Dean Koontz)

about the image: Photo, some editing

in Elements

Title: The face of Despair

Beauty is in the heart of the beholder.....

''Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder'', so it's been said.

During my late teenage years I was mad about cinema.

I don't mean ''movies'', I am talking about films, the one's

more often than not in black and white, and with subtitles.

Films that bewildered, intrigued, mystified, excited

and entertained, but always teased my perception of

what I thought I knew about life and myself.

My two last years of secondary school(gymnasium)

I spent mostly at the Cinematheque in Stockholm

rather than at school.

The Cinematheque was both a ''film school'' and an

exceptionally large ''movie theater''

with at least six films showing in one of the many

theaters at the same time.

It also had a cafeteria and a posh restaurant,

plus a really good shop with film posters, t-shirts

and a lot of nick-nacks.

The coffee in the café was not all that good,

but the films always were.

As a cineaste(lover of cinema) the Cinematheque was my

absolute favorite place to be.

Movies(blockbusters etc.) didn't really excite me,

but ''cinema'' did.

Whether they were Black and white, silent, subtitled,

French, Italian, Russian, German, etc. etc. I loved them all.

Sucking on a cold, stale coffee for hours I would

sit through film after film and eventually emerge

as the day would come to a close.

Among the hundreds of films I watched was a film

titled ''Freaks''.

''Freaks'' is a black and white film made in America in 1932 

and is basically about a traveling circus with a variety of acts

including a ''sideshow of curiosities''. 

Meaning people with

unusual physical attributes such as no limbs,

 pinheads, conjoined twins, a bearded lady,

and many other ''curiosities''.

Besides being a black and white masterpiece 

and the photography stunning, it was a very challenging

film to watch. 

Why? It challenges the viewers perception of many 

concepts: what is beauty? what makes a human being

worthy? do we love with our eyes or with our hearts?

why do some of us find it hard to accept rather than judge

people with unusual physical attributes?

The impression the film made on me has never left me.

Many years later my biases and prejudices was once

again challenged when I watched a film titled

''The Elephant Man'' directed by David Lynch and

starring John Hurt.

The biographical film is based on the life of John Merrick,

a severely disfigured man who lived in London in the late

19th century.

Though at first one may experience John Merrick

as a ''monster'', the more we get to know him as the 

film progresses, we discover that behind 

 the ''monstrous façade'' is a gentle, kind,

and a highly sophisticated and intelligent man.

By the time the film ends, I'm going to suggest that

 John Merrick has transformed from

being ''the Elephant man'', a curiosity with multiple

disfigurations, an ''animal'', and has instead become a human 

being with an extraordinary ability to turn a blind eye to

other people's biases and prejudices.

Some say that human beings often deem people and

things beautiful according to symmetry.

Symmetry creates patterns and patterns are important

for us because it helps us to organize and categorize

(order)how we perceive the world we live in.

Presented with a choice between an imperfect/

disfigured/asymmetrical object and a perfect one,

according to those in the know, 99% of the time we

will choose the perfectly symmetrical object. 

Some suggest that if we deem someone as ''ugly/

unattractive'' we often tend to assume that they

are therefore ''ugly/ unattractive on the inside.

Here's the thing though: ''Ugly, like beauty, is in the eyes

of the beholder'' methinks.

Now, more so than ever, methinks that what something

 or someone looks like have become more important 

than its or someone's content/character.

However.....

This means that many people are rejected every day 

by someone just swiping ''left''.

It also means that many lonely people are ignored 

every day because they are viewed as not good 

looking/attractive enough to talk to.

How many kids are excluded from the ''cool/inn group

every day because they are not ''cool looking'' enough?

How many jobseekers are rejected every day because

they are not attractive enough to warrant an interview?

And so on. I'm sure you can think of a lot of

other examples.

A few days ago a very dear friend of mine died

un-expectantly.

Maybe many would view him as an ordinary

looking man, but to me and my son he was an

extraordinary, kind, gentle, interesting, generous

 and beautiful man.

Perhaps if we can learn to ignore our biases and

prejudices and instead take the time to get to 

know people,

we may discover that it really is true that

''one cannot judge a book/person by its cover''.

''People are like stain-glass windows.

They sparkle and shine when the sun is out,

but when the darkness sets in,

their true beauty is revealed only if there

is a light from within.''

(Elisabeth Kubler-Ross

''Beauty is in the heart of the beholder.''

(H. G. Wells)

about the image: Acrylic on large canvas

Title: ''Beauty is in the heart of the beholder.''

Judging a person by his/her ''shell'' can be very problematic......

During the mid-90's a book with the title ''Men are from

Mars, Women are from Venus'' blazed its way onto the

literary scene.

In the book the author John Gray states that most

common relationship problems between men and women 

are due to fundamental psychological differences

between the sexes i.e. ''Men are from Mars,

 women from Venus''.

Placing men and women on different ''planets'' he

then goes on to explain and categorize the cognitive and

behaviour differences (as he views them) and why

those differences can cause much misunderstanding.

Some viewed the book as very insightful/helpful 

then (maybe some still do) but a ''new study published

in the Journal of Personality and Social Psychology

has revealed that men and women are categorically

the same''.

Personally, I found John Gray's book troubling.

I don't believe in the notion of stereotyping human

beings according to gender.

I believe that the culture, society, norms, traditions,

relationships, ideologies and belief-systems we are

exposed to play a far more important role.

Human psychology is complex and not always

easy to get ''one's head around'', stereotyping on the

other hand, is far easier. 

-Well, what did you expect? Men are from Mars.

-Well, what did you expect? Women are from Venus.

Relationships, may I suggest, thrive when we communicate with 

each other effectively, openly, compassionately and honestly.

After I finished reading ''Men are from Mars, women from Venus''

I decided to start paying attention to what kind of bias/gender

stereotyping I could notice in advertising.

I know, I know, advertising's aim is to reach a ''target'' market.

 What I wanted to find out was: besides trying to reach the

''target market'', was it also pushing a gender biased agenda?

This, I discovered is a huge rabbit hole, so I will just touch

on it for now.

I believe that men, women, and LGBTQIA+ care about cars, furniture,

vacuum cleaners, kitchen appliances, clothes, schools,

beds, food, cooking, painting, D.I.Y, fuel consumption,

etc. etc. etc.

I believe that men, women and LGBTQIA care about their appearance,

 their physical and mental health, and how they are perceived 

by others.

I believe that men, women and LGBTQIA care about financial, 

environmental, and physical security.

In short, I believe that inherent in human beings is

a desire and a need to belong, and none of us come

from neither Mars nor Venus, we are all

earthlings.

When we stereotype each other we disconnect

ourselves from that which we all have in common:

our humanity.

''Only by not judging something by the shell 

in which it lives are pearls a possibility.''

(Citizen Z)

Betty Davis, the painting above, is regarded as one 

of Hollywood's finest actresses, however, she is also

viewed as having been highly combative and

 confrontational.

''Until you are know in my profession

as a monster, you're not a star.''

(Betty Davis)

A genuine pearl, wouldn't you agree?

about the image: acrylic on large water color paper

Some editing in Elements.

 

Mind wandering in the dark.......

Suddenly the whole house went dark and silent.

I knew it was going to happen since it sounded as if the

storm was about to not only steal my umbrella, but also my

roof tiles and outdoor furniture.

(When it's ''windy'' here, usually numbers on the Richter scale

are involved.)

With the house in total darkness my very familiar and

cosy home turned in to unfamiliar territory with

boobytraps everywhere.

In the pursuit of a torch or at least a candle, I kept

bumping in to this, that and everything.

(This was before phones came with a torch mode.)

Finally, fumbling about in the ''tools'' drawer, I found

an old torch and though it kept ''blinking'', I  could

at least use it to find the box of candles that I

knew that I had put on a shelf in the pantry.

Now, where were the matches? ;)

With a few candles lit and placed in the kitchen and

 living room, the unfamiliar became familiar again.

With nothing else to do, I sat down on my couch

and just watched the flickering candle on the table.

Outside the wind was still roaring and now and then

the odd broken branch would come crashing down

on the verandah.

My mind started to wander and I found myself

pondering what it was like before the invention of 

electricity.

My wandering mind:

It seem to me that when we started to light up the world

it must have had a rather intrusive affect on animals and

other living creatures. Not only from a visibility point

of view, but also from a noise point of view.

What we(humans) call ''enlightenment'' may from the

point of view of flora and fauna perhaps be experienced more as

 bewilderment, and as a risky

 and an exponentially hazardous living environment.

As we keep on expanding our ''living space'' I believe

that we are too noisy,

we are too self-serving, we are too discriminatory, we are too blunt,

and we often think short term rather than long term.

(I dare not even imagine how bad may be the damage we are

causing flora and fauna as we chase after MORE.)

If mankind was to be put in the dock as accused of

endangering the life and continued existence of 

the animals of land and water, the winged creatures

of the air, the inhabitants of the micro cosmos, the

rivers, the oceans, the forests, the lands, the mountains,

how would mankind respond?

''-It seemed a good idea at the time?''

Our planet is trying to tell us to change our ways.

If earth quakes, tsunamis, El Niño's, El Niña's,

hurricanes, droughts, floods, blizzards, etc. etc.

is not getting through to us, what will it take?

 me wondered.

Suddenly the TV sprang to life, the lights came on

and my mind wandering came to a stop.

I blew out the candles.

I walked over to the tea kettle, flung a bag in a

mug and poured in some milk.

As soon as the water boiled I filled the mug

and walked back to sit down on the couch.

Then......

 I turned off the TV and all the lights.

I lit the candles again.

As I did this, I noticed that the wind had stopped.

I decided to be brave and embrace the gentle lights

and the soothing sound of silence.

about the top image: all done in Elements on a Wacom tablet

second image: water colour on paper and a real band-aid

plaster stuck on top

Cats are not reserved...they are thinkers.......

My son is somewhat of a cat whisperer.

No matter where he lives, cats seem to

always find him.

It started when he was about six-seven years old

when suddenly a ''tabby'' showed up at our doorstep

and it is still happening.

Due to health issues my son lives with me and

since he moved back in with me, there is a steady

stream of cats coming and going here.

He only owns one cat but every day he feeds at 

least two or more visiting cats.

His own cat goes by the name ''Lovecraft'' in 

honor of the author H. P. Lovecraft, an American

writer of horror/fantasy/science fiction.

Since we brought her home she continues to mystify

and intrigue us. 

''A cat has absolute emotional honesty: human beings,

for one reason or another, may hide their feelings,

but a cat does not.''

(Ernest Hemmingway)

Lovecraft, like many cats, is immune to any attempts

at being controlled, told when to be affectionate, or to

be interested in what us humans want from her.

What I have discovered however, is that although

a cat can't be ''controlled'', Lovecraft has shown me that

a cat can be taught, instructed and encouraged to

adopt certain behaviours. (Well, most of the time.)

When it comes to pets, I often hear people refer to

themselves as either a ''dog person'' or a ''cat person''.

There is research to support the notion that there is a link

between some personality traits and the type of domesticated

(or not) animal a person prefers.

In a study done at the Carroll University, Wisconsin,

a survey done on 600 people showed that people who

viewed themselves as ''dog lovers'' tended to be

''energetic and outgoing'' and followers of rules.

''Cat lovers'' tended to be open-minded, sensitive and

introverted. They also tended to be non-conformists and

scoring higher on intelligence tests.

''I have lived with several Zen masters - - all of them

cats.'' (Eckhart Tolle)

''Time spent with a cat is never wasted.'' (Colette)

My son, who is a ''cat person'' often points out to me

how cats are often portrayed (especially in movies/films/cartoons)

as evil/cruel and undeserving of love,

while dogs are often portrayed as man's best friend and

they all ''go to heaven''.

Though there may be many of us who view ourselves

as animal lovers, an exorbitant number of cats and dogs, 

kittens and puppies, are killed every day by us humans.

Not to mention the number of different species of animals

 that are abused and neglected all across the globe.

''Little One'', a beautiful black and white male cat first appeared

 here a few years ago barely alive. Scared, small, super skinny, and

obviously on his own, he just showed up on our verandah

one day. My son gently coaxed him closer and fed him,

and have continued to do so ever since.

I named him ''Little One'' because of the at that time three

other cats that my son was feeding, he was the smallest one.

The others my son named Ginger, Meow, and Buddy.

Little One and Lovecraft are now ''friends'' after a

 somewhat shaky start.

Introversion, whether in relation to cats or people is often

described as being reserved, unfriendly, and or anti-social.

Extroversion on the other hand, whether in relation to dogs 

or people, is often described as being social, outgoing, and open.

Let me offer a different way of defining those terms.

An introverted person/cat-person, re-energizes him/herself by

by spending time alone.

An extroverted person/dog-person, re-energizes him/herself

in the company of others.

There is much to appreciate about the dog who loves

going for walks, who loves playing with you, and is

willing to do as you ask with unrelenting loyalty.

But so is:

There much to appreciate about the cat who sleeps on

your lap, who cleans itself regularly, who keeps your

home free of mice, who eats the food you give him/her

by choice but not by need.

And when so inclined, can be sensitive, intuitive and

very affectionately comforting.

''Dogs come when they are called; cats take a message

and get back to you later.''

(Mary Bly)

''Feed a dog and it thinks you're a God.

Feed a cat and it thinks it is God.''

(?)

about the image: charcoal and ink on brown paper

some editing in Elements

''Kittens can see your heart''