Day Two

I did not sleep well. I don't know if it was excitement, worry, the first cup of tea I've had in I don't know how long, or the fact that my room is right next to the private staircase of the staff accommodation, with a slamming door at the bottom. I don't know how many people work here, but judging from the amount of times the door went bang and the footsteps thumped up the creaky stairs I'm guessing 7485. I vowed to buy some earplugs. I woke up several times feeling cold, although not enough to get up and do something about it and managed to keep nodding off again. I don't consider myself to be abnormally tall and yet I always feel hotel bedding isn't quite long enough to cover me completely, although it could be because I have to have the covers under my feet and over my head simultaneously. Anyway, before too much more tossing and turning my alarms (can't be too careful) went off and I shivered my way to the shower. That done I got ready and wandered down one of the many pink staircases to the basement (!) for breakfast. Tables are allocated for breakfast according to room ( I suppose to stop people dirtying the whole dining room, or for compulsory socialising) and I soon discovered I was breakfasting with the lady whose room I'd almost walked into yesterday. I realised pretty quickly that she was Australian and pretty chatty, as she took her cereal bowl away as I sat down and didn't come back till I'd finished my bran flakes. (I wasn't being sarky there, she was talking to another guest the entire time I was eating). So, as she sat down she asked where I was from and what I was doing there. Forgot to say, she was about 60-ish, tall with white hair cut in a bob. I said I was attending a course and she asked what in? Art therapy I said, Oh, I do that, she replied as she got up to do the other side of her toast. Really? I asked when she sat down again. I won't continue with the whole conversation but it turned out she'd attended some art therapy sessions back home (by mistake, thinking they were art lessons) but talked all the way through my bacon and toast about how great it was and how she'd loved it. She said it was run by a Christian lady who included meditations as well, but she'd found it very helpful in dealing with stuff she had thought was over years ago. I told her I'd been wanting to meet someone who'd been on the receiving end because so far I'd only heard the theory of what it could do. Ah well, she said, these things are meant to be. I smiled. She then told me about one of the staff in the kitchens who was also an artist and how she'd worked here too for a while, and how she'd been to Iona (which I need to ask her more about) and was supposed to be going to France to house sit for her sister. We had a nice chat (well, she did most of it) then I excused myself and set off for school. Another bitterly cold day, but sunny and crisp, so I felt alive and good to be going somewhere and doing something. I was stunned at how many others were also walking with purpose and it seemed every crossing and corner brought more people into our gang - until I passed the first tube station when most people disappeared below ground. The walk yesterday had taken 40 minutes but this morning only took 25. I nearly lost it at one point when I stupidly strode confidently over some wet (in fact frozen) cobbles and were it not for some freaky skateboard move that came out of nowhere, I would have been on the deck in a second. I continued unphased, although my heart was maybe thumping a bit quicker inside my chest. I was early, so did a lap of the block then found the doorway open, next to the United Reformed Church sign and walked in. The whole place was pretty tatty with a hospital/school type feel - and smell. After receiving a welcome pack and ticking my name off a list we were given a drink and told to take a seat. It turned out there were 26 of us and I was delighted to discover 2 other blokes, unlike the day in Newcastle when I was the only one. Thankfully there were no embarrassing ice-breakers or group introductions, a sticker with your name being the only intro we needed. I won't attempt to write about everything that was said and done, but basically a lady spoke all day who worked with children up to the age of 18. She told us her background and I found myself thinking about Donald Miller and story as I listened to hers. I also thought how this was the part I liked the most, that its the story I'm most interested in. She then gave a case-study of the first boy she worked with, showing pictures, enacting scenes and reading reports about him. It was all very interesting and touching to see how she'd made breakthroughs with him and how she'd learnt so much from him. At one point we had to get into small groups and share our backgrounds (educational) and why we'd come. In my group was a girl from Hong Kong who had studied some wierdo stuff to do with colours and tarot cards and smells and I don't quite know what else. None of us could quite hear or understand it all. A Canadian girl with the most Englishy accent ever, who went on about her 3 kids, who were like 5, 7 and 9 even though she only looked about 14 herself. Then a bloke who was a psychotherapist for 20 years and had just been accepted for an Art therapy MA and a Fine Art MA but couldn't decide which to do (I think he was just showing off), then my favourite who was called Esther from just down the road. She'd done fine art then gone to work in London zoo looking after the reptiles, then moved to Rome to look after reptiles there and was now teaching english to italian children/reptiles. She told me her mam lived in Lancaster and when I asked her about it said, well actually its a place called Carnforth and my aunt lives in Warton. It made me laugh. So, the day was full of more stories and more pictures. Pretty quickly the annoying gobby people became evident, asking the most pointless questions, but apart from that, time passed quickly and I appreciated being part of things. I especially liked the speaker because of her enthusiasm not just for the work she was doing, but for art in general. She talked about how important your own art is and how great it is to have loads of different materials, that you can be creative and have fun. She said she will allow the kids to through paint bombs and have a whacky time because its all about the relationship (Donald would have been proud) and she would use anything to find a way to connect. I talked to her briefly at the end, saying I'd found it encouraging cos I'd learnt that art was very important to me and I wasn't sure if art therapy was a step away. She told me to never give up making my own art work and that I'd be a far better art therapist for it. I left feeling happy that if I end up getting onto a course and becoming an A.T. that art will be very central and that there are a whole host of ways of practising, depending on the clients but also on the creativity and personality of therapist. So, a good first day. I left the building and decided that life's too short to take buses when you can walk.