Rare Bird of Fasion: The Irreverent Iris Apfel. (2009-2010) Peabody Essex Museum. Salem, MA

In 2009-2010, The Rare Bird of Fashion exhibit at Peabody Essex Museum (PEM) in Salem, MA., presented more than 80 dramatic ensembles from the personal collections of Iris Apfel, an 85-year old rebellious fashion icon, designer and aging maverick doing life boldly on her own terms.

Tours at PEM for persons living with memory loss and their care partners were part of the ARTZ (Artists for Alzheimer’s) Museum Network. One day, Avis, with a group of eight women living at a local memory care program. joined a tour of the Iris exhibit. A chance to see up close and personal Iris’ dynamic collection sparked conversation, curiosity and pure delight.

Iris transcended conventions and pushed against traditional categories. Her wild, colorful clothing and chunky jewelry revealed her unique visual language; a lively imagination at play that invited visitors to rethink the rules we live by as we age. Ellen, Director of PEM Docent Programs, shared a scintillating detail with our group - Iris arrived at the opening of her PEM exhibit wearing leather pants!

A gasp of surprise followed.

At the end of our PEM tour that day, as we walked to the museum exit together. Avis turned to Ellen and spontaneously said, “I think I need to postpone dying. There’s so much more I need to see!”

A look of astonishment swept over Ellen’s face and she whispered to me, “You’re not going to believe what Avis just said.”

Later, when Ellen shared Avis’ words, a feeling of pure joy washed over us. In the presence of the bold and daring Iris, something lit up for Avis and she wanted to shout her feeling of joy from the rooftops.

“Pay attention. Be astonished. Tell about it.” - Mary Oliver

When we pay attention to the voices of persons living the experience of memory changes, we reach below the surface and tap into deeper wells. Coming together in a cultural space, sharing our feelings and reactions to an artist’s work, is an opportunity to witness the depths of personhood- our own and others who share the experience.

What better way to explore the many layers and textures of personhood than to connect with art and other human beings in a deeply personal way at the museum? When made accessible, a museum environment offers its own distinct cultural history, architecture and aesthetics that can supply nectar to nourish meaning and wellbeing.

Through qualitative research, we listened to first person testimonials and learned when art excites someone, they want to see and feel more of it. And when art moves someone to the core, that individual looks toward the future with greater hope.

Art, aliveness and hope are deeply intertwined. This is a rich landscape we will continue to explore in the coming days.

Questions for Reflection: How can we make it a priority to tend to the aesthetic needs of older adults and persons living with memory changes? How can we see culture as a place to gather nectar and draw upon art’s astonishing qualities to foster resiliency? What is one small thing we can we each do to move the culture to recognize the rightful and essential place of the arta in the lives of our elders?

Ideas for Action: 1. Print several articles about Iris Apfel and images of her bold clothing and jewelry. Invite a small group of 6-8 individuals to read about her life and look at her images. Ask the group to write a brief biography and then Pop Up an Iris exhibit at your program or community. Invite questions and conversation. Get reactions to her work. Choose a few questions as prompts for a writing group. 2. Hold an Iris Apfel fashion show. Ask people to dress in wild, unconventioal ways. See where imagination takes people. Let the fun begin.

Notes:

https://www.pem.org/exhibitions/rare-bird-of-fashion-the-irreverent-iris-apfel

https://www.vanityfair.com/style/iris-apfel-photos-obituary

“To love a painting is to feel that this presence is...not an object but a voice.” Andre Malraux

Phyllis, a woman in her 80’s coping with complex health challenges and frequent hospitalizations, was a participant in Cape Ann Museum CAM Connections program. She resided at Golden Living Center nursing home in Gloucester, MA.

CAM Connections three year immersive program for underserved seniors in the local area offered continuous, meaningful engagement- art conversations, expressive arts sessions and humanities experiences- at both museum and care site. The initiative brought access to beautiful art to those who could not come to the museum, and slow art tours at the museum to reflect and connect for those who could partake.

Power of Place was a full year focal theme immersed in landscape paintings from the museum collection.

One summer afternoon, with the museum closed for renovations, we took our tour on the road to North Shore Art Association (NSAA) in Gloucester. Doors open to the sunlit day looking out to the Atlantic sea, inside the beauty of an intimate cultural space, the group gathered to view The GIft. NSAA’s current exhibition was a retrospective of the life work of Cape Ann watercolor painter, Betty Lou Schlemm.

Phyllis, after being in the hospital for eight days, joined the tour. Betty Lou, featured artist, also sat down with our group for a slow art conversation. We looked closely at a group of Betty Lou paintings on one wall. Seeing what caught our eye, what the paintings said to us.

Stepping into silence…..

Letting the experience organically unfold, Phyliis was drawn to one particular painting called Canyon by Betty Lou (above)

Canyon and mountains no longer just a scene depicted in a painting., but a presence that seemed to suffuse Phyllis’ imagination. She stepped inside, “I can imagine being there, climbing that mountain to the top. I think I can do it.”

We asked, “Do you want to give Canyon your own title?” Phyllis replied,“Tranquility.”

We sat together, opening to the feeling of tranquility Phyllis summoned in us. Transported together by a transcendent moment when slow looking offered deeper dimensions for all of us to discover.

When voice is reclaimed and feeling runs deep, personhood shines. When a person builds for him or herself the meaning of a work of art, there is no disappearance.

At tour’s end, Phyllis said to the group, “This program is the best thing I’ve ever done. This is great. It’s like coming alive. Through this program, I can live in another world.”,

Staff at the nursing home shared, “Phyllis lives for this program.”

If “art is for soulmaking” and a painting not a static object, but a living thing embodying its own presence, it may take us places, transport us into other realms.

In the words of Mark Rothko, American abstract painter, “A painting is not an image of an experience, it is an experience.”

Phyllis listened to the painting, felt it, and found a determination to climb the mountain of life.

Rothio also said, “Silence is the most honest form of engagement with art.”

Silence invites the heart to open.

In the stillness of a devotional atmosphere, in silence and in slow art, we can build experiences that build belonging, resiliency and a more wholesome world.

Betty Lou, at the end of the group conversation that day said, “No one looked as seriously at my paintings as you all did. Thank you. This touched my heart. I will always remember this day.”

Questions for Reflection: How can we create devotional atmospheres and use landscape paintings and stillness to gather sustenance and resiliency while aging or living with memory changes? Since arts participation and cultural inclusion are essential nourishment to wellbeing, what can we do to advocate for cultural institutions to open their doors and serve this population fully?

Ideas for Action: 1. Bring books of landscape paintings (or 4-6 large reproductions) to a small group of 6-8 individuals. With books, ask everyone to choose one book, flip through the pages and pick a landscape that speaks to them. Open up a conversation. What about this landscape speaks to you? As you look at this place, where does it take you? If this place had a voice, what do you imagine it might say? Does this landscape remind you of anything from your own life?

Listen closely to what connections emerge and where excitement lives. This is fertile ground for lively, meaningful experiences. Create a weekly ritual of slow looking art conversations.

2. If you are using reproductions of paintings to spark a small group conversation, hold up one reproduction at a time so the whole group can see it, or stand it on an easel. Invite responses with open-ended questions such as, “ As you look at this, what are some first spontaneous words that come to mind? What do you see? Where does your eye take you? Imagine you are there hearing the land speak, what might it say? Follow the lead of the group.

At the end of the session, ask the group: Did you enjoy this experience? If yes, would you like to do this again? If no, what would make this experience better? Does anyone have ideas for paintings you would like to look at together next time?

Notes:

The Gift Exhibition with Betty Lou Schlemm Video: https://archive.org/details/Betty_Lou_Schlemm_Gift_Show_-_ACM_8_M

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mark_Rothko

https://www.palazzostrozzi.org/en/exhibition/mark-rothko/

The biomedical framework, brain-based, linear and cognitive, freezes imagination. Focusing on a “brain that is shrinking” limits our thinking. Stereotypes of “slipping away,” a person “no longer there,” color public perception, feeding stigma and fear. Srigma shuts down cultural access. Why offer access if a person is “disappearing” and cannot meaningfully participate or benefit from growth-producing experiences?

To challenge diininishing stereotypes that disconnect individuals from cultural access, we look at real life moments when dimensions of personhood shine.

Cape Ann Museum (CAM) Connections Museum Tours Viewing Paintings from Fitz Henry Lane Collection

Quotes from adults living well with memory loss

• I liked hearing others, what the viewer sees and emotionally responds to.

• It brings me back. It’s our neighborhood!

• I’ve learned from your and others’ comments.

• It’s restful looking at them. Restful and peaceful.

• Laughter. We are laughing more than usual.

• Learning. It’s all new to me.

• Six more hours would have been fabulous.

When something deep moves below the surface and rises for an individual in the presence of art in a cultural space, we enter a landscape of mystery.

There is much more we do not “know” than what we are told to believe we “know.”

Art invites us to dive beyond the surface of “knowing.” Phyllis, living with memory changes, unexpectedly feels her imagination fly free as she gathers sustenance to face life’s challenges by leaping (metaphorically) into a landscape painting. Gordon discovers his colorful, creative voice as he paints papers for a handmade lantern and is uplifted with a sense of pride and joy.

We need heart-centered, social and imaginative sources of nourishment to feed wellbeing and tackle the growing public health epidemic called loneliness. A dementia diagnosis, layered with the stigma and assumptions we know exist, increases isolation. A person perceived as vanishing becomes unseen and unheard.

Carl Jung, Swiss psychologist, offered a solution, “Loneliness does not come from having no people about one, but from being unable to communicate the things that seem important to oneself.” In Jung’s paradigm, loneliness is assuaged when we listen closely to see and hear what an individual or a group wishes to communicate.

One day, I sat down with Gordon, an 87 year old man with a thick head of grey hair, thick-rimmed glasses and kind blue eyes. A distinctive tattoo of a dragon on his right arm hinted at his younger, daring self. Living with his daughter in Essex on the north shore of MA. Gordon was experiencing memory loss. He was a regular at my Materials Exploration Workshops at Day by Day Adult Day Center in Gloucester.

I wanted to listen, have a deeper conversation and see beyond the surface of things. So, I asked Gordon, “What is it like to be in your 80’s?” He replied, “I’m enjoying it. The freedom of not being penalized by anybody.” I ask him in what ways he feels freedom. With a perplexed expression, he said, “I don’t know.” So, I change the question. “What is good for you now, at this time? “ Gordon’s response, “I like music. I like country western music, Eddy Arnold. I have been listening to him for years. He sings worthwhile music. It picks me up. .I like two other country singers. I can’t remember the names.”

I ask what other things are good? Gordon enthusiastically replied, “My dog. He’s a big fella and he thinks the world of me.” I wonder what the dog’s name is and what kind of dog? Gordon said, “His name is Jack. He’s a German shepherd… I think more people ought to follow that line and have a pet. He’s a friendly, pleasant dog. They bring out the best in me. My dog is very important to me. He barks at strangers.”

After our chat, to honor his story, we listen to Eddy Arnold during our Materials workshops A place we experimented with an open mind. A feel good and grow together group. Hearing Eddy Arnold music, Gordon lit up and sang along. Lyrics came back full form. The group, feeling joy in discovering Eddy, hummed along.

Learning an essential piece of Gordon’s colorful history, in the present moment we could connect with, honor, and celebrate his personhood.

One morning,, we made lanterns and painted rice papers to decorate them. Gordon painted papers with his own personal color palette of rich earthy tones. Surprised by his own creative acumen, he left the session carrying his lantern home, saying, “This is my pride and joy Peggy.”

Sit with Gordon’s joyful rice paper lantern for a few minutes. The colors, design and symbols he chose shine a light on his interior world. What does the piece say to you?

“The aim of art is to represent not the outward appearance of things, but their inward significance.” – Aristotle

Creative experiments have the power to rework the “canon of dementia.” As we attune to the inward gaze, find and feel the joy and colors of living, we move the narrative of dementia despair and disappearance to a spacious landscape of hope and creation.

Notes

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Carl_Jung

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eddy_Arnold

When we gather with a small group at the museum, we are like bees gathering nectar and passing it among ourselves. An alchemy happens. Slow looking invites the painting, sculpture, photograph or other art object to speak with its own voice and carry its own resonances. The process unfolds organically; like making luscious honey.

The arts offer expressive and communicative aspects that feed wellbeing. Cape Ann Museum CAM Connections Tour in Gloucester, MA. was a 3 year immersive program for underserved seniors, individuals with memory loss and care partners (photo below)

We do not gather to fill our heads with a lot of knowledge or to test memory, but to flourish together. Whole human beings becoming more human together.

In the words of Roger Dell, former Director of Education at Farnsworth Art Museum in Maine and co-creator of The Memory Gallery program for persons with memory loss and care partners, “Art is for soul-making.”

So, if art is the nectar for the soul and we are nectar gatherers, the quality of the honey we make depends on two main things: access to the lushness of the arts and a devotional quality of attention. In this formulation, art and cultural inclusion are flower nectar that transform into a delicious and nutritious source of food found at the cinema, museum, art gallery, library, nature space, bookstore, memory cafe.

Access to the nutrients cultural environments give is so important because as people grow old and are living with physical, emotional or cognitive health challenges, some in institutional settings, isolation and loneliness spike. Discoonection from culture becomes commonplace and access to the arts limited. Add the stigma that comes with a dementia diagnosis and you have a perfect storm of disunion and exclusion.

Dementia Action Alliance (DAA) members are persons living well with memory loss who share this important message, ”Dementia does not define a person….Imagine living with a condition that is highly stigmatized and mostly misunderstood even by doctors….. We don’t just want to survive. We want to live and thrive.”

This is why inclusion matters. Growth does not stop with age or a diagnosis. Art and culture are nectar for living and thriving. If movies have been an important source of nourishmenr and social connection for a person, then movies are the nectar. We witnessed this to be true at the Meet Me at the Coolidge…..and make memories film program. One moviegoer, living with memory changes, exclaimed at program’s end, “This makes life worth watching!” Another said, “This is better than any medicine.”

The same principle applies to music, dance, painting and a whole host of artistic mediums. In the documentary Alive Inside we see personalized music (created on an I Pod) re-enlivens and animates wellbeing for individuals living in institutional settings where access to art and community often disappears.

Art brings people back into connection.

I Remember Better When I Paint is the first intenrational documenrary film exploring how the arts can unlock imagination and change the way memory loss is viewed by society. The film looks at the role artists can play- as builders of environments - to dare, wonder and experiment together alongside persons with cognitive changes.

The film features Hilda Gorenstein (Hilgos), accomplished painter and person living with Alzheimer’s, who, in the opening scenes, is slipping away in the nursing home she has checked herself into. Berna Huebner, her daughter and film co-director, witnesses what is happening and goes to her mother, asking her if she wants to paint again. Hilgos replies, “I remember better when I paint.” Hence, the film’s title. Heeding her mother’s words brought Berna to a realization, “Listen with the ears of the heart.…Find, or get, the connector.”

The connector may be a musical instrument, favorite film clips, a paintbrush and palette, immersion in a beautiful landscape (real or imagined through a painting), visits to a historic house, a dedicated art student, neighbor or friend who wants to bring the lushness of the arts into a space and attune with devotional attention to what an individual wants to communicate or express. Finding common ground to keep growing together.

At film’s end, Hilgos, after collaborating closely with Chicago Art Institute students, has rediscovered her love of painting, reclaiming a core part of her creative identity and flourishing in the process. An art gallery exhibiit of her new work is a beautiful culmination of the experience. “There is no dementia in the room.” The reciprocal exchange also transforms the lives of the art students.

Here is a Hilgos painting:

Sit with the piece for a minute. Let your imagination run free. What do you see? What does the painting say to you? If Hilgos asked you to give her work a title, what title would you choose? What do you notice about her colors, movement, composition?

On the outside of dementia, there are changes occurring. These are real. On the inside, there is still movement. How can we open the pathway to reach where the movement lives?

The social model of health tells us the answer is the “built environment.” This is an environment shaped to support health and wellbeing. Considered a bedrock of health promotion, a built environment helps a person thrive. I believe the environment is a space that recognizes personhood. sparks curiosity, unlocks creative passions (past & present) and honors the lifelong need for social connection and human development.

Without access to what art and cultural inclusion offer, a person can slip away.

With access, we make life worth living and a delicious multifloral honey feeds us all.

Questions for Reflection: How can we amplify the links between art, culture and wellbeing to move museums to act? To become an invaluable resource supporting quality of life for older adults and persons with memory loss? Culture is a right and not a privilege. What can we do to ensure cultural insitutions prioritize inclusion and civic engagement? How can we inspire the next generation to jump into this wonderful work and contribute their gifts to this population?

Ideas for Action: Look at what a person has always loved - passions, hobbies and interests - and ask if they want to do something imaginative together. Make a ritual of time, place and process and commit to it. A weekly visit to a museum, a day to paint, collage, start an art journal or look at film clips. When we create a regular ritual, the experience can deepen and we can see how wonder bonds us, inviting unexpected and wonderful things ro happen.

Notes

https://irememberbetterwhenipaint.wordpress.com/

https://www.frenchcx.com/dvds/i-remember-better-when-i-paint/

https://aliveinside.org/home?postTypeId=whatsNew

https://daanow.org/

https://www.farnsworthmuseum.org/memory-gallery/

Pennsylvania Railroad War Memorial by renowned sculptor, Walker Hancock, stands on an interior wall at Cape Ann Museum in Gloucester, MA. Depicting the embrace of a dead soldier in the arms of an angel, the stunning stone sculpture is an evocative vision in pure milky white clay.

Walker Hancock (1901-1998), Pennsylvania Railroad War Memorial, (1949-1952). Sculpture. Collection of the Cape Ann Museum

One day, during a group tour with individuals from Day by Day adult day center in Gloucester, MA., Hancock’s sculpture unexpectedly opened the door to one man’s personal story of grief.

As the group of eight arrived, we introduced ourselves and began the tour by entering the museum’s atrium, Don, a 75+ year old man with thinning hair, steely blue eyes and cherubic smile, lifted his eyes upward to the sculpture hanging on the wall. Gazing intently, almost in a kind of reverie, he quietly began talking about his dying wife. The group sat in silence, listening, as he shared his story of the wife he loved so dearly, who now was very ill and in the hospital. We said we were sorry to hear this news and sat in silence together. Our presence letting Don know he was not alone in his grief, safe to express his sorrow. “Shared joy is double joy and shared sorrow is half sorrow” -Swedish proverb

A feeling of solidarity washed over us all……

An art object, whether it be a painting, photograph, sculpture, or other installation has the power to move the spirit in unpredictable ways. We never know what object will touch someone deeply. In that moment with Don, as the group listened with empathetic ears, the sculpture became a living presence, like an old friend, speaking comfort to him and unearthing his story.

The museum can be a place of meeting, connection and belonging, capable of creating relationships between people and doing the work of healing found in the cultural heritage of the local area and the museum’s collection. We need museum programs like this in every community.

Don’s wife died within a few days of that tour. I was left wondering if his sense of loss was mitigated by this transcendent moment with the sculpture and presence of the group? After that day, I saw Don frequently. He participated in my weekly materials exploration workshops at the day program and often returned in our conversation to that moment at the museum; recalling it vividly, a warm expression washing over his face, as he shared his memory of the sculpture, the wife he lost, and how grateful he felt for the group’s support.

Hancock’s sculpture evoked a rare moment….

“An outer presence, even through memory or imagination, can be brought inward as a sustaining thing.” John O’Donoghue, Irish author & philosopher

Questions for Reflection: Did the image of the sculpture become “etched” in Don’s visual and associative memory? Linking the visual memory of the sculpture- a lost loved one being held in the arms of an angel- to a new memory of grief shared and halved? Was this a memorable moment to bring inward a sense of peace and solace to sustain him? What artworks can we use as a resource for sustaining individuals as they age or live with memory changes? Let’s ask the individuals directly (see ideas for action below). Co-creating individualized, meaningful experiences.

Ideas for Action: 1. Bring art table books to a small group. Ask them to choose a book and flip through the pages, picking a few works that speak to them. Open up a conversation. What does this artwork say to you? What are you noticing? What drew you in? Does this remind you of anything from your own life? Listen closely to the responses and then go deeper. Create a weekly ritual of art conversations. Watch as the mystery unfolds...

2. Get in touch with a local museum to explore how you can build a program together for older adults and individuals with memory loss. Open up a conversation, share ideas and brainstorm innovative ways to begin. However small, just begin. Since srt, has unifying effects and museums are restorative environments that nurture the spirit, how can we advocate for greater access to the arts and museums in our communities?

Many years ago, I got in touch wtih the MFA and met with Hannah Goodwin, Manger of Accessibility, to advocate for a program for persons with memory loss. Collaborating closely with Hannah, who cared about meeting the needs of this group, we created Second Saturdays. Originally, it was a one time monthly gathering for persons with memory loss and care partners to meet others in similar circumstances, share in art conversations and have social time together. The program, now renamed Museum Moments, has evolved into a 2x monthly offering and continues to invite people into the museum for meaningful moments. Finding a person who believes access to art is a necessity for both individual and community wellbeing, and with the support of the institution, a program can be developed and sustained.

The old art deco theater and the smell of popcorn moves the crowd and stirs movie-going memories. Groups are entering in droves and begin pointing to the iconic actors and actresses running on the screen. Smiles everywhere. Music is playing and the mood is upbeat.

From 2015- 2018, at Coolidge Corner Theatre in Brookline, MA, a specially designed ARTZ (Artists for Alzheimer’s) interactive film program Meet Me at the Coolidge …and make memories attracted hundreds of participants from a wide variety of settings willing to travel for more than two hours to attend. Everyone was invited, carried a ticket to the show, and we thanked them for coming.

The invitation to participate in culture matters. When people arrive at the theater, a familiar experience, they remember who they are, come back to, and recover, moments of meaning and memories from their lives. This self reclamation, coming home to self, each other and community, is powerful.

The program, designed to awaken all the senses, invites people to walk into the old historic theatre, hear lively show tunes, see and identify familiar actors and actresses flashing on the screen, smell and taste the delicious buttery popcorn, touch the bucket’s smooth surface with one’s own hands. All sense memories which bring alive feelings of joy and wellbeing.

Everybody has a story about going to the movies. It’s a universal experience. The whole atmosphere of the theatre brings back memories of communing with friends or family. Munching on a large box of Junior Mints or Good n’ Plenty. Sometimes singing along. Vivid moments in life story brought back to life in the now.

Sipping the cup of culture, movies can be part of the good life in later life. Art wakes us up and culture creates a sense of belonging. In the words of Yo Yo Ma, celebrated violinist, “Culture is the ground on which everything is built.” The ground is feeling an integral part of the social fabric of which we have always been a part.

I belong- my life story and history matters.

Film is a medium that builds bridges, bonding people in special ways. The Coolidge quarterly film program brought caregivers together with persons living with memory changes- from private homes, memory loss programs, senior centers and more- and included volunteers from all walks of life and next generation students.

The program was a big hit. Many of the film clips had music and the audience would break out into song. The whole theater filled with a feeling of harmony and unity. At ARTZ, I learned the phtase, “There is no dementia in the room.” It’s a shared human experience.

The program served up to 1,000 annually.

Here is a quote from the Coolidge program. Testimonial of Kelly Z., who shared the film experience with her father:

“I had the opportunity to attend the “Meet Me at the Coolidge” program twice with my father who has vascular dementia. As we have come through the door at the program my father and I are given a warm welcome and sincere greeting, the acceptance is palpable. As a caregiver I can relax a bit without concern about any anxiety or judgment from others. Through those movie clips, my dad and I might recognize a fond memory or a basic human truth, laugh or cry, and then talk for weeks about it. He remembers the clips and the connection we shared, when many other short-term details he cannot retain. He wants to have that emotional connection with me but often it’s difficult for us to find when his expressive and receptive language abilities are hindered. Our experiences at the Coolidge have opened up a new pathway for connection.”

In another post, I will share more details about how the program is developed, how to choose film clips and facilitate discussion, strategies for community outreach and the positive outcomes we found through a qualitative survey.

In the meantime, here are some Throughline Questions to Consider:

1. How can we integrate film programs for persons with memory loss into our communities to build bridges of joy and connection between young and old?

2. What film clips can you imagine unlocking visual memory and sparking vivid moments of life story?

3. In what ways does film provide an extraordinary dimension to the human experience?

The genesis of this substack comes after 20 years of art and culture work and research that brings attention to the underrepresented voices of persons living with memory loss. In their “own words and works” we look at moments when hidden wellsprings are tapped, something comes alive, and an individual or group connect to something deep and meaningful, saying “Yes!”

This is ethnographic research. The realization of my long cherished dream to preserve a record and testimony from lived experiences; to move the narrative of dementia despair and disappearance to a spacious landscape of hope and creation.

In the spring of 2007, I met Mrs. S., one of my greatest teachers. She, with her wavy white hair and radiant smile, was living with early stages of memory loss. As we built a relationship, we began to play, experiment and unlock creative instinct together. Mrs. S’s painting ability had been lying dormant for some time. We started by working loosely with her oil paints and listening to music. Mrs. S held the paintbrush in her hand, chose her colors, mixed paints on a palette, started making loose brushstrokes. Hand and brush together, her muscle memory came alive. Swept up in movement and colors, she began moving into flow…. See image below

Instinctive visual design sense and color rhythms awakened, she then drew an image on canvas in charcoal, and AHA… a fresh, lively painting rich in poetry emerged. Here is the artwork…

The world as seen through the artist’s eyes. A nonverbal pathway for communication. Her landscape awash in earthy yellows and browns, teal greens and cornflower blue. with a flush of rosy pale pinks and oranges. Inviting us to enter into her fertile, alive world. Take a closer look. Sit with the piece for a few minutes. Let it speak to you.

Mrs. S exalted, “I can’t believe I did that. I think it’s really beautiful.”

Surprise, joy, revelation….The irrepressible creative spirit lit from within. She had unearthed a key to memory- found in creative process connected to her artistic identity and sense of capability. Her family, friends she and I- all astonished that this ability was lying in wait, longing to be expressed.

If we commit to growing together, let things unfold organically, we can find the pearls lying within. Reclaiming “lost” skills or developing new ones, harnessing strengths and maximizing abilities, Mrs. S and I saw and felt the power of deep attention and collective creation. It was a transcendental moment.

The experience left me with a desire to dive deeper, explore more, see how art and culture could animate living and wellbeing. I worked with museums, participated in slow art conversations, engaged with paintings, sculptures and photographs with individuals experiencing memory changes. AHA moments came one after the other. Directing an interactive film program at Coolidge Corner Theater in Brookline, MA, iconic film clips, many with music, stirred the room into song and story.. After one program, a moviegoer exclaimed, “This makes life worth watching!”

All kinds of cultural programs and artistic mediums have the power to spark joy and wonder in living. Meet Me Through My Art: an intergenerational exchange between elementary school students and adults living in memory care with final exhibit at deCordova museum. photovoice projects with public exhibits, hands-on materials exploration workshops, telling our stories visual and oral storytelling initiatives, It takes a village, a network of weekly art and culture programs in one geographic area.

Moments of epiphany are at the heart of this substack. I will share it all here. Revealing hidden wellsprings and unearthed keys to memory. We will explore many different kinds of memory, challenge existing conceptions of memory by looking through the lens of the arts and deepen our understanding.

With the hope it can inspire you to build your own moments of creative play, possibility and meaning-making. Come and join the adventure!