Writing, Reading, Reflection

Twenty years ago, I had a friend tell me she was getting a degree in art therapy. At that time, even though I loved art, I had no idea what that meant or how art could be therapuetic. Six years ago, as I was looking for a counselor to help me through numerous bad experiences, a friend recommended a woman who incorporates art into her therapy.

By then, I was firmly established in writing and art as part of my life, I began to understand. Today was one of those art therapy days. I took Eric to meet my son this weekend, and that went very well. Leaving my son at college, again, was hard and then, later in the evening, the past reared its ugly head, and I needed to be alone. Without going into the details, I’ve learned over the years that when the past creeps up on me, slaps me around a little bit and shakes the very foundation I have worked so hard to repair, I have to take a moment–or two–and retreat into my self.

Today was that kind of day, and I found myself in my art room patching away that foundation. The beauty of it was that I wasn’t feeling guilty–Eric was okay with this unlike so many other men I’ve dated who are like emotional vampires, sucking the life right out of me. Instead of asking questions, pouting or demanding my presence, he let me have my day and allowed me to heal in my art room.

Ironically, I’ve been joking with him about “testing” him to see if he’s the man I want to be with. I didn’t intend this to be a test, but if I had, he passed with flying colors.

My project today was creating a collage of images from my garden. I’ve been collecting pictures all summer. There are the spring flowers in full bloom, my statuse in the late evening sun, the butterflies, squirrels and neighbor’s cat prowling around the yard. I found wonderful quotes about gardens and how they are the things that connect us to god, the things that allow us to create something living. The collage isn’t any wonderful piece of art, but today the process of creating it allowed me to re-center. Cutting each flower, gluing them, writing the quotes, all of this allowed me to sit and just be.

My last post was about falling in love. Today, the fact that Eric supported me in my need to create made me fall even more. Funny, though, how “fall” is a good thing here. Maybe I should consider changing this phrase “falling in love” to something more uplifting. There is no falling, really. It isn’t painful, though it is scary at times.

I’m better, now, after creating this little collage–better on so many levels. I will post it as soon as I get a picture of it.
Thank you, Eric, for letting me fall apart a little and for giving me the time to pull myself back together.