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Seven Sorrows Seven Swords Pp
 

Seven Sorrows Seven Swords Pp

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poems and paintings from art therapy research separation and divorce

poems and paintings from art therapy research separation and divorce

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    Seven Sorrows Seven Swords Pp Seven Sorrows Seven Swords Pp Presentation Transcript

    • Images From the Tear Garden: A Tale of Seven Sorrows A Visual Narrative of a Broken Marriage Julia Sutherland 2007 Our imagery are the wounds and healings. Farelly
    • Philosophical Statement Research as a Contribution to Art Therapy If we are to continue in our commitment as a service profession to improving the quality of life for individuals and society at large, it makes sense that we do not attempt merely to duplicate what is widely available through other disciplines, but instead focus on we have to contribute to our speciality. Catherine Moon, 1998:23
    • Objective: To experiment with and demonstrate a theoretical and practical approach to a narrative art therapeutic intervention with application to therapy for women following a broken marriage.
    • In the Beginning : Finding a guiding image Creativity is not a solitary movement. That is its power. Whatever is touched by it , whoever sees it, senses it, knows it, is fed. That is why beholding someone else’s word, image, idea, fills us up , inspires us to our own creative work. Estes, Women Who Run With The Wolves . P 298
    • The Virgin of Seven Sorrows: Mater Delorosa from Boyer, The Cult of the Virgin P56
    • ‘ Neustra Senora de las Angustias of Seville’ (From Boyer )
    • Care of the Soul requires a different sort of language from that of therapy and academic psychology. Like alchemy it is an art and therefore can only be expressed in poetic images, mythology, the fine arts, which provide priceless imagery by which the soul’s mysteries are simultaneously revealed and contained. Moore . Care of the Soul
    • The Tear Garden: A Personal Narrative An exhibition of a series of images based on the Mater Delorosa, Mother of Seven Sorrows Arts therapy offers an opportunity to work in a serial form or steps, but also the creation of images which can be revisited or changed. It also offers the opportunity to look behind those images. Roose- Evans
    • I: Betrayal in the Garden: Easter 2002 He said that love fled suddenly in the golden glory of an Autumn day in Queenstown For no reason. But in truth his heart moved for another waiting in the wings of all our lives. Bare footed she called across hills, and valley of deepening shadow Columbine, Columbine Breath sweet with slumberous Lilac wine Smokey too with promise of the spirit of Dionysus and all his pomps and promises Goblets of dream. Different and silver paths suddenly laid bare Shocks of ice ruled my hair As the swift sword, hidden in wing hit home. Soul of tears revealed her countless petals Lotus Flower Raining Glassy tears In the garden
    • The First Sorrow: The Garden of Betrayal A sword shall pierce through thy own soul Simeon’s prediction
    • II: Flight from the Garden July2002 Early morning he fled with stealth. And left a note tinged with a hint of regret Footprints marked the crystal pathway The beginning of the end And the beginning Of the long valley of tears The child bride now face-lined with many sorrows And grandmother for the first time Gowned in white And wearing the lace cap on her head which once held a veil Protection from prying eyes torn asunder As the memory of the promise once made and about to be broken is framed in silver. But spirits now summoned gather As the shadow man Once Romeo and bridegroom flees Without turning once Not seeing the blue tree laid bare in the winter garden Where she once decked all their joys and sorrows Like brightly coloured baubles And where sunflower girls thrived in dappled light Her soul cries as the second sword plunges deep Stretching the golden band
    • The Second Sorrow: Abandonment in the Winter Garden On the coldest morning , in secret , in the very dead of winter, leaving only a note and footsteps in the frosty garden the grey man fled.
    • III: Separation War raged in the garden and the angels in the sky above screamed like skybirds as the whole world opened into chasm when he came with the proposal that would shatter all illusion. Stones rained down on the helmet holding fast From the catapult concealed behind his back Words spoken by others Sweet as honey wine dripped behind the secret smile But she could see the card And could read it Hidden up his sleeve Which slipped in one small movement And she became lupine thing And armed with new bible her army behind and around her She sent arrows laced with power too and held to half the roots as they snapped and when trees fell Her soul torn unsunder and fluttering, set free on hostile winds The black cat prowled The third sword cut and his heart took wings....
    • The Third Sorrow: Separation, War in the garden The centre torn apart
      • IV: Sorrow in the Tear Garden
      • Stripped bare she shelters
      • in the tear garden in a liminal place
      • where flowers bow down with sorrow too.
      • Her cap flies free into the air now as angels wings
      • leaving her light-headed
      • as
      • she relives memories
      • of the garden of the triangle
      • the special place
      • where now only spirits dance in fairy rings
      • And a life once lived but now lost
      • falls out of reach.
      • Tears spring from hidden wells and pour in endless rivers
      • Into the ace of cups
      • But now is rest
      • as he is hides on the other side
      • of the globe
      • in his own underground world
      • The heart now broken
      • holds the four of swords
      • as her home passes into new hands
      • and she into another place ,
      • another garden.
    • The Fourth Sorrow: Defeat in the Tear Garden “And who can say why your heart cries, When your love dies? Only time...” – Enya: Only Time .
    • V: The Serpent in the Garden Over those mountains he flew like an albatross home to Dunedin And with great haste with the message And with fury he knocked at the gate papers in hand which would dissolve everything and explain nothing. And she turned him away too bare and not yet prepared to assume the garments of divorce which the fates already had sewn which she would wear in shame and forever. With no defence he took her by stealth and stabbed her in the dark pathway in the darkened garden And sent his envoy the serpent to stand in waiting With a great threat hanging over her and to dog her every step until she would submit and mark the dotted line with her treasured name that would end in a death of a marriage She fell into strong arms and then was wrapped in care and communion with loving spirits There were no screams left to inflame or give delight when she asked him into her own new garden And signed to the sound of a soft and strange lament, from a heavenly choir And he sighed and mumbled words sprinkled with shame but no regret And stabbed the sharp sword in her side, Once again
    • Panel 5
    • VI: Leaving the Garden I look down on the garden of my childhood, my womanhood and motherhood In the pink and early light of a February morning, as we leave Dunedin without fanfare. I am navigator l In search for new shores and new things to care about The vigilant soul and adventurer by my side We slip as ships in the dark from moorings now not solid. On ward a long, long journey North Dunedin is grey and blue and soft She sees old homes and stone buildings and rolling hills,the brooding harbour the beach of childhood, The graves holding bones of most dearly loved left behind, left unattended The cityscape draped in mist Are now memories captured in images in a painting Angels carry stories on the wind of a person now gone and spirits flutter as white butterflies in old gardens where the tear flower still grows And while my soul now sings from time to time as tender tendrils from the buried sorrow grow toward light my heart cries and holds six burdens.
    • Panel 6
    • VII: The Wedding of Harlequin and Columbine
      • I will hang memories from strings
      • in the library
      • for all to see
      • and the fates who are responsible
      • for all things in heaven and in earth
      • hold them into light
      • I will tell tales
      • of the Tear Garden
      • to all who come here
      • and how I travelled through that space
      •  
      • To a far off place in another Island
      • beside a Lake as once was spoken, by a seer of future things.
      •  
      • Here water is turquoise
      • and the Mountains blow steam
      • and sometimes rocks in an alarming fashion
      •  
      • And in the sky behind a new garden
      • the mountains stand in majesty cloaked in white too
      • Under a dark and tangerine sky,
      • often sprinkled with diamond stars.
      •  
      • And the old woman
      • Who is a stranger and yet who is familiar
      • Collects blood and tears
      • in a crucible to turn memory into paintings
      • of primary colours and gold and silver.
      • “ The brush is mighty:” she says
      • By some strange alchemy
      • symbols form in imagination and rise up from where they come
      • The image of the marriage of Harlequin and Columbine
      • too hard to consider except in a kind of jest
      • takes shape in pastel form.
      • My children will gather in that place
      • in this auspicious year of 2007
      • Witness to the final betrayal of their father
      • as he shuts the door with a slam
      • and turns his back
      • on 40 years, no farewell of course.
      • And leaps with some kind of abandon into the abyss
      • and across to another world with hubris his friend
      • to more familiar spirits
      • A hard and golden heart
      • and Summer Wine
      • and a wedding ring and perhaps my name
      • his earthly gifts to a brand new wife.
      •  
      • And the other family of which I am now forgotten
      • embrace their new daughter and sister
      • as their own
      • In the garden of the Bleak House and white roses
      • and lavender
      •  
      • Now ends this tale of seven swords and seven sorrows
      • made with heavy heart (from all that metal)
      • With these new clothes and with these pearls
      • I will turn
      • I will return
      • In happier frame in angel wings
      • For what is meant .... for what is sent
    • Panel 7
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