Day Six

I'm writing this on the train, so if my typing is a bit wobbly you know why!
So, my last day in the big smoke. I was a little bit sad to have my last breakfast and say goodbye to the Highbury Christian centre, creaky floorboards notwithstanding. I was glad of the icy coating as I set off down the street as my stupid case slid a lot easier than it did on the busted wheels. I decided there was no way I could walk too far with it, the snow being mostly gone on the normal streets, got the bus instead. After the first few sailing past because of overcrowding, i made it at 'school' in the nick of time (not that anyone else seems to care about such a little thing as being on time). The morning kicked off with a lecture on A.T. in palliative care (incase you aren't sure what that means, it basically is caring for people who have terminal illnesses). Again we had case studies and a look at some patients' work. It seemed there were a few differences to 'normal' A.T. in that you obviously might not have much time to see people and I think because of this, it seemed you can be a bit more direct than normal, ie. most A.T. seems to be patient led, and the A.T only follows, subtly asking questions etc. whereas in this case the A.T. bring things up that they think need dealing with (at least that's how it seemed with the tutor doing the talk). This whole area does puzzle me a bit. I don't understand how you can always just follow, and think I'd get frustrated if I couldn't introduce stuff etc. cos this seems to be seen as taking things in an unnatural direction - I don't quite get it. In some ways it was a bit of a sad session, thinking about cancer and death etc. It would be strange working in that environment and not being able to say anything about God etc.
Next we had A.T. with post traumatic stress disorder by a lady who works with x-servicemen who are suffering from what used to be called shellshock. Again it seemed quite sad that these men were living in such hard situations and were really stuck with their problems.
At lunch I finally managed to take a few photos, so hopefully they'll turn out ok. I also want to redesign the leaflets that the British association of art therapy (the place where i'm doing this course) use. They are really awful, they're like some kid did them in Word Art and I just think that a profession that claims to have art at its centre should care a bit more about how things look. It gives a really rubbish impression. Their website is also awful. So, I took a couple of other people's stuff too cos I'm sure I'll need some images.
After dinner the subject was A.T. with children who have experienced conflict, and by that she meant war etc. refugees and the like. Really I should have liked this one the most, as she made a big deal of telling us that she was an artist and art therapist (even though they're all supposed to be) and that she's always done both, never full time as an A.T. My problem with her was that she was very intellectual and very middle class. I felt like she was talking lots of arty rubbish, but I couldn't understand the majority of it, so can't say for sure. She complained about aid organisations bringing relief and setting up art rooms etc, encouraging kids to draw about their experiences, but not being trained AT's who can deal with the results. But from what she showed us I couldn't quite see the difference to her projects. It was interesting though if for no other reason than to see it its possible to do stuff as an artist and not just an A.T.
The day finished with our old lady friend who did a bit of a Q+A session (although there have been loads of questions all the way through). We all said our farewells and went our separate ways into the frosty darkness. Its funny how having a shared experience brings kind of closeness and it feels like we've been 'together' for a lot longer than a week.
Because of the weather chaos the transport systems have gone mental all over the country with all kinds of cancellations etc. so I wasn't too sure if my train would be on time or in fact leaving at all. I had 4 hours to wait and due to the stupid stinking bag with the wonky sideways wheels I felt like I couldn't really go very far out of my way. I'd been told it was a 5 min walk to Kingscross train station and I knew it was next to St Pancras which I've wanted to visit since it was renovated for a very reasonable £800million. I tried to carry the case for as long as my skinny arms could manage, having to swap hands every 4 seconds. Eventually I gave in and just dragged the thing which was almost as difficult. By the time I got there I was knackered and a bit unconcerned about the decor of the station. (having now been, I have no idea where the money went - its still just a train station). Another reason I went there was because it was on the way to Euston station where I was leaving from but I knew that there were no places to eat or even sit at Euston and didn't fancy standing around for 4 hours. I ended up buying food and people watching until I could bear the cold no more (I'm sure they keep them cold on purpose). After warming my frozen hands in the toilet dryers for an inappropriate amount of time I decided to get a cup of tea and try to use the internet to find out about my train. The cafe was packed and manned by a group of Indians men who didn't seem to know what they were doing except shouting. The internet was available but pricey and so I turned my attention to Donald miller instead. After another ages I lugged my bag further down the road to Euston and was delighted to be told that I could catch an earlier train. The one from which I write. Anyway, this all seems to be getting a bit dull so I think its time I ended. Hopefully I'll post something else about my overall feelings of the week not to mention the career of A.T. and if it's for me!