A Mural for All

Happy Sunday everyone!

Yesterday, I was able to have a few of the Bridges patients sign waivers to have their art posted on this blog. So, as promised, here are a few of the blind contour portraits they created on Friday. The one in the middle is the one I described in my earlier post:

The one on the left was actually created by Ms. Endreson. Her face isn't that orange in person, I promise! 

I returned to Bridges on Sunday and Ms. Endreson had a task for me to complete right away. Our group sessions that precede art therapy are often meant to provide a "check in" for the patients. We want to know how they are feeling and what is on their minds. So our creative "check in" for Saturday was bumper stickers. You might be thinking: "What? Bumper stickers? What are you talking about, Tia?" But think about it. Bumper stickers often express a certain feeling or belief of the car owner. We wanted to understand what kind of bumper sticker the patients would put on their cars at that moment in time.

So my task at 9am on Saturday was to create the bumper stickers. Ms. Endreson gave me a number of examples and I began to create my own. I started with a slogan that I particularly enjoyed: "Without art, earth is just 'eh.'" From there, I played with a variety of positive and negative feelings with bumper stickers that read: "Just breathe...", "STAY BACK", "You can do it", or "If you can read this, you're TOO CLOSE."

When group started, we laid out each bumper sticker on the floor in the middle of a circle of seven patients. We went around the circle and had each patient pick a single sticker they related to. I found it interesting that two patients selected the sticker that read "My religion is kindness," while another adamantly chose "Keep honking, I'm reloading." There was certainly a range of emotions that morning.

Our group discussion quickly became a conversation of  cooperation and community interaction; patients shared their ideas about what it meant to be assertive and even some suggestions for the ward community. So, while the patients let those thoughts ruminate in their minds during a 15 minute break, Ms. Endreson and I set up a project that matched our discussion: a mural.

On a large sheet of brown paper, we decided to let patients work together to create one large piece of art. Because structure seemed to motivate patients in the past, we then added some "rules" to the game. Each patient was supposed to use a single color (of their choice), no one was allowed to cross out or scratch out the work of another patient, and each artist was supposed to let the music we played guide their hand. But of course, as in previous projects, those rules were easily broken. So here is the finished product:

"And the days float by like water. And one day it's spring again. And this is not the end of the story."

Ms. Endreson and I participated (a lot of the red marks are mine) to provide a bit of motivation once again. We began with only two patients working on the mural, but over the entire session, we had a total of five patients contribute at least a tiny bit. I love that I can still recognize each part of the mural and which patient did them. See that red circle in the bottom right corner? That was done by a patient who was very anxious and wandered about the ward constantly, but stopped into the art room for a few minutes when I held out a red pastel for her (the only way I knew how to communicate with her, as she only spoke Spanish). Art certainly is a universal language.

After a quick vote, the patients titled the mural "Verve." And, after Ms. Enderson and I took it outside to spray it with fixative, we displayed it in the day room, where patients congregate and watch TV every day.

Not only did the mural activity encourage cooperation and conversation among the patients, but it also gave them a great sense of pride. Yet another project success! I can't wait to head back to Tucson on a few days to see that mural hanging on the wall.

Until then!
Tia