Author Archives: Natasha Shapiro, ATR-BC, LCAT

On Saturday my old former graduate art therapy teacher and supervisor whose groups I attended weekly from my first work as an art therapist post grad, fall 1999 until some time in the end of spring 2018 when I left the Thursday group and said goodbye to him finally- died.

When I graduated I already knew about his groups as he wrote a book about supervising, whose title I forget. I remember using it for a paper in his class and being upset that I didn’t get a great grade on it. He gave out cassette tapes for papers about his grade and commentary as he didn’t like writing it. Remember this was 1998-99. I kept those tapes for years and came across them in 2016 when I was doing a big kind of psychotic purge and threw away many things I probably would take back now. Anyway, I noticed my May idea of posting daily ended after 5 days so this would be my May 6 post except he wasn’t dead, or more normal way of putting it, he was still alive.

I haven’t seen him since the day I left the groups and said goodbye to him and the group. There have been a few moments since when I’ve wondered if I should go back to the group or one of them and always ended up with no, I left; that chapter is over. I was in his therapist supervision groups for around 20 years. Some have been in his groups over 30 years.

For me, I know when something’s over. I say goodbye and leave, usually in a way that honors the time spent as I did with the group and him. I made everyone these little containers with bunnies in them and one bigger one for him. In 2007 when I left for “maternity leave” I said I will return within 2 months and I am not sure how soon after 9/4 I came back but it was maybe after a month. Before I left to have the baby I gave him a small painting of a mother and baby elephant. I’d obsessed with the elephant images throughout being pregnant. I had once given him another small painting maybe for his birthday and both were on a shelf behind his desks, a shelf in a room of wall to wall bookshelves and som statues and big paintings. I remember someone from a different group saying she saw my painting and knew it was mine.

I had a very good close relationship with him for most of the time in the group. A lot of it was non verbal and more symbolic/communicating through metaphor. His putting the paintings on the shelf felt very loving. That was an example of our non verbal interchanges. Once he talked about how he gets uncomfortable in social situations, and people were shocked as he did so many presentations/experiential workshops at conferences and other things, often with his wife as a duo team and had all these supervision groups; I never knew how many but I started in the Tuesday evening one and knew he had evening groups at least two other days and a bunch of afternoon groups as well while he had a private practice and was a professor for many years at Pratt.

I would have tried to get into one of his groups but I didn’t have to because he invited me maybe in person at the last day of school. I felt extremely honored and special that he asked me to be ion one of his groups. He didn’t single me out much at Pratt but I think I knew he thought I was one of the best students.

Certain things I remember him saying and many things I have no memory of. Once he said somethintg about how being special and treated that way, my metaphor would be like being a very rare gem, that this carried a burden or that being special is not so good for you. I remember the idea more than the words. At the time I didn’t think to say then why do you treat everyone differently in this group and why do you pay more attention to certain people than others. I was not the only person who noticed this.

I can’t really post a long organized post so I think I will make a series of posts that will be disorganized, just a way to process the loss. As my friend who like me, chose to leave the group for her own reasons on her terms, said, “It’s a world now without Art Robbins in it.” We carried him in our psyches and consciousness even though we didn’t stay to the end. When he invited me to his group I remember thinking I would stay until he died. That wasn’t true but I do leave things very much closing and locking the door. Since graduating Harvard I did not even go to Cambridge until some time in maybe 2012 or something. I lived in Paris for almost two years and only went back once since then. I finally went to a high school reunion probably in 2016 which would have been the 30th; class of 86. When my dog died I knew I wouldn’t be getting another dog for a very long time. Now I really want two kittens but still have had no animal companion since Edie died in 2009. I remember learning about the replace the dog immediately from Art and his wife. They always had a dog. By the time I left the group I think they had the third dog I had met, a rescue. One time he actually left the dog outside a market and forget to take her home. I remember that one. I always noticed the cracks and dark spots. You can’t put someone on a pedestal for too long, especially not a mentor. I’m quite good at challenging authority, maybe through having narcissistic streak that is competitive and doesn’t want to fully put the authority up above me. I was that way with the head of the program at FEGS where I worked a while, the place that was a wonderland, an outpatient program forextremely chronically mentally ill people. It was referred to as Rockwell CDT.

I have a weird memory for people. I can’t cut open or think of avocados without seeing Monika, one of the counselors there, having her avocado at lunch in the conference room there. She died too soon of breast cancer in her late 50s.

Anyway, this is just one post. I imagine there are so many things to write about here about this big important figure/person/mentor in my life, part of my becoming a professional art therapist and then defveloppinig to the point of being one of the most experienced therapists in the last group. By 2008 I had started leading my own supervision groups. I tried for two different evenings but ended with just my Tuesday evening group which I will start in 10 minutes on Zoom. Right now I have the most capacity in all the 14 odd years of running my own group. There are 7 people. I love doing my own supervision group and probably would not have done it this way and stayed with it if not for Art’s group.

My group has always been completely different in structure and everything else. His was in his office full of books and bookshelves and mine was in my art studio filled with all kinds of materials. We make art and process for the first 45 minutes. Then at 7:45 someone presents a case and we continue to make art. In his group we sat in a circle and some groups hardly made art and at the end I was in one that did. I almost every week made art in his group anyway. I can’t focus without doing it. Anyway I often think of him at some point during my own group. So I will end now and prepare to do my group. I imagine I will be posting about him and his effect on me and others for a long while.There is so much to say.

Something weird I’ve been working on in layers…

I just went for a run a while ago. I haven’t gone running in a very long time. For a while way before the pandemic I ran regularly and even did two 5ks. One was Mother’s Day probably 2017 or 2018 with my sister and her daughter.

Anyway I’m not a fast runner anymore as my right knee hurts and knee pain is psychological and physical; when you start worrying about it, it gets worse. I’m scared of knee pain. I also have a weird pain in my right shoulder muscle. Anyway I was proud of myself for doing it. There was slow jogging, faster running and walking. I like running at night by the Hudson.

When I first tried running again around 7 years ago I noticed it helped with writing. It didn’t tonight but I was just focused on doing it.

I’m going to bed very early to avoid missing yoga class again.

I cooked a pasta sauce even used tomato paste but put olives in it. My kid hates olives but I stupidly thought it would be a good flavor and she wouldn’t notice. It was a disaster but I was proud of myself for cooking a sauce and not using bottled sauce. I should have separated the spaghetti.

Epic fail. Put me in a shitty mood til my run.

Roe v Wade; we might as well drop the presence of a democracy. This is fascism, dangerous insanity. It’s not about abortion; it’s about capitalism. You keep poor people poor by allow ing no access to abortion. It’s about money staying in the hands of the rich. And sexism. And federalism. It means the country is just in a tragic downfall… But Blake Lively looked awesome at the Met Gala…

Warning? I guess this blog is always kind of personal and best read by people who don’t know me.

Anyway it’s an early sort of Mother’s Day post…

Yesterday evening I saw this special edition Mother’s Day Retro 51 pen was here and there are 914 of them. While I was sitting in the TV room in my parents’ house I quickly found one of the few not sold out/out of stock and ordered it. I guess it’s an impulsive purchase.

Well I started reading my sister in law’s book in the middle and while trying to write this post. I had to print it out- I can’t read on the computer. Maybe I should use my phone. There are no page numbers and something happened because I don’t have the beginning.

Anyway it’s already interesting.

So this pen I’ve decided is my Mother’s Day present to myself. I have a real live mother who is 90 but she’s mostly not here due to Lewy Body Dementia and Alzheimers. I haven’t really felt her want to hug me for years the way she used to. It’s all horrible and like most things about getting older you know it’s just going to get worse. But people come back from heart attacks and cancer. She’s not coming back. She’s fading away. Last night as soon as we arrived she got confused and of course had no memory that we’d be showing up for dinner. Suddenly she was gone, went to bed. In the old days I could have snuck into the bedroom and even laid down next to her. A million years ago. It did not cross my mind til now. My dad was still there and we had a nice dinner with him.

Do I have a mother now? Am I ungrateful for all the years I had her and all the times she was there for me? I’m lucky I’m one of the ones who had a great mom and lucky to really miss her. She is one of the most unselfish people I’ve ever known. Very judgmental and blunt but would jump in front of anything for me. She saved me and others many times.

Anyway a pretty pen is not a mother. But it could remind you of your mother. Maybe I can show it to her.

Now I know she’s sleeping sometimes 14 hours a day. That’s worse than before. Everything is. Hugging her used to feel good and warm. She withstands hugs now like a brittle tree. The world is mean to have put this horrible illness in such a wonderful person who remembered everything.

That’s it. I have to do my supervision group soon and I’ll never stop starting to cry when I get into this.

I had a definite idea in my head you have to do a post the way I have you have to do a workout and you have to prep some food.

The main reason I’m working on myself is to live longer in a better state of mind for my kid and for me to live to see all the great things she does and continues to do. I don’t want to have a heart attack or get cancer and die in my 60s. I’d like to live a long time but I never used to think about dementia and being old. I just thought a lot of my ancestors lived long lives. My grandmother was over 90 and her one of her sisters almost 100. Now I’m more aware living to be 100 isn’t great if you don’t recognize your grandchildren.

I told one of my older clients half in jest that standing on my head every day keeps me youthful. It’s partly true that being upside down, called “inversions” in yoga, is good for you. It helps with circulation and inflammation. But it also helps remind you that there are different ways to experience life and reframe your default opinions and judgments.

I’m still addicted to Zen Match and doing better on higher levels so I’m going to play it now because I’m feeling the urge and it’s better than eating candy. I bought candy tonight on sale and ate some and felt sick so I’m going to return the other one tomorrow!

How you feel after eating different foods tells you if your body wants them or not…

Here’s my weekday Tik Tok video:

Yes today is a yes day. Yes to the studio I’m so grateful I found now that they’re are no artists left here but I’m here and still an artist. Yesterday was dark return from vacation day. Today was opposite..

Vacation art:

I looked on the internet and there are no answers for my particular question. Should I give up on my art career? I have no energy to spend time working on selling my art and waiting while doing it and a job. It’s a dead end. I sold some drawings in 2019 because they were all part of one series. Since then I have sold one painting for a low price to my”great aunt” who is near my age so more like a sister in law. Anyway, she loved the pandemic art, that painting of a person stuck in a Hand Sanitizer bottle.

That has now become a metaphor for my life. I could make more art and I do, but I like it less and less. I’m used to making art I don’t like.

The problem is I’m a profesisional artist, not an “emerging” one, ie. I emerged about 32 years ago and have been making art ever since on a regular basis at times daily at times not as much but most of the time doing something whether drawing painting mixed media etc.

I’m not 25 with stars in my eyes. I probably was in an online group show recently. I can’t remember. Nobody goes to my pieces so it’s pointless. Making art is pointless. Showing it in a vacuum to nobody is a dead end. So is Instagram.

I’m burnt out on “selling” my art and trying to get galleries or whatever. I think at some point in the last ten years I just surrendered to the fact that searching for group shows in unimportant galleries doesn’t even work. I submit work that isn’t chosen.

I’m not being negative. I just am completely unsuccessful and would basically be homeless if I relied on living off my artist career. Some have told me it’s not a career if I’m not showing and making sales. I looked up the definition of carrier which said something about expertise, spending time on a thing and improving or something. Yes it’s a career but it’s a failed one. You can’t tell me that I should focus on the art making and my passion for making art because I’ve fucking done that my entire life. I do make art for me first. I do engage in the process often without focusing on the product or focusing somewhat on the product or fully. I don’t have a lack of any to that. Being an artist is part of who I am now.

I used to think the studio was the thing. I’ve had studios from the beginning. Many artists haven’t been so lucky but have been hugely successful.

Perhaps I did give up on part of my artist career long ago. Choosing art therapy as my means of income is choosing a second choice. I could stop that altogether. I could stop working as an art therapist. It wouldn’t be a good idea financially and maybe I’m wrong and being a wounded healer is meaning full so I’d miss it. Maybe it helps me make better art.

At some point in your life it is too late for things. People naively say you can do whatever your passion is but it’s bullshit. Everything in life has its limits and dead ends. Death is the ultimate one of course.

Anyway I’m thinking about all this in terms of giving up my studio, at least my separate studio. I did it and managed in the pandemic. It was claustrophobic working in a tiny space, a former closet, but I made stuff and did art therapy with people.

I don’t need the studio. Nobody comes to look at my work for a show or sale. A few people come for their sessions in person. It’s good but is this art studio just a big unnecessary expense or is it the one thing left I’m hanging on to as my “Room of My own”, my separate place where I have all my materials, space, my work. I’m grateful that only 9/11/01 and CoVid have gotten in the way of me working at my studio but even then I had the studio waiting for me.

I want this studio. Many reasons. But you can’t always get what you want. It’s fucking true most of the time in life. You can’t. You get somethings and not others. Like success and financial success through art.

I can’t remember if I’ve written about my driving lessons. I got the permit in 2019 and then did a 9 month DBT class, so my plan was to wait as the class was not that costly but also time consuming.

Of course as with the dentist, I’m finally ready to pay for lessons and COVID happens. I actually had a dentist and other medical appointment right after I stopped working at my studio and locked down fully at home. I didn’t trust taking the lessons til recently because of COVID. So today is my third lesson.

Why do I need a license? Was it taken away? No because I’ve never had one. I took lessons around age 18 and failed the first test. Then I took more lessons on a summer break from college. We even went on highways. I failed the test again and decided I didn’t need a license being in Cambridge for Harvard. Like in NYC, you don’t need a car and you’re better off without one in both places in your 20s at least. Suddenly fast forward 30ish years and I hit 50 in 2018 and start planning to get the license. I found a place with a teacher that can deal with a very anxious older person with ADHD and extreme driving phobia. I needed a special kind of teacher as I can’t learn with someone yelling at me, talking fast and criticizing me constantly.

My first lesson was a few weeks ago. As I have driving anxiety and phobia of driving due to my ADHD ; don’t judge. I’m great on airplanes and love them; I think they’re fun. Usually people who have airplane phobia love driving as they’re in control of the vehicle. I take plane phobia seriously and have worked with clients on it. It’s a phobia not grounded in reality completely due to statistics showing it’s way more dangerous to get in a car than an airplane. I don’t have the numbers.

Some of my driving anxiety is grounded in reality. Lots of car accidents happen daily, some due to bad or aggressive or drunk driving, some just by shitty luck. How many people die a year due to a car crash, being hit by a car on foot or riding a bike.

I’ve had 2 clients with major trauma and chronic physical ailments due to being hit by a car, one on foot and one on a bicycle.

Out of 26 lessons, I’m about to have lesson 3: I dread the lessons but look forward to them to hopefully improve despite hating driving. I’m nervous before and during the lessons. There’s so much to focus on and do and there are all these things around to avoid hitting and a million things to do at once.

The chocolate chip cookie has won. It’s my long day I usually have about 8 drowns a group. Suddenly in the middle of a session I decided to order a Starbucks cookie and cappuccino whilst finding out this awful corporation I can’t seem to stop buying from has raised their fucking prices because why not add to inflation right now.

So I’m not writing the posts for Sunday and Monday that I missed. No more catching up.

I will keep keeping on trying to be healthier. This is the first time in 6 days I’ve had any cravings or slipped. I just had a “socialist “ session commiserating with my client that her main mental health problem is capitalism. She got a full time job and paid her back taxes, now has been fined and also stopped making art since getting the job, perfect example of why Carl Marx was right. And why the compromise to his Utopia is socialism.

I also pulled the Ocean archetype card I will journal on tomorrow.