I was sitting with 2 residents in an Alzheimer’s Unit.
“Let’s write a haiku poem. Look out the window at all the snow. What do you think of the snow? How does it make you feel? What does it remind you of?”
I received feedback: Ice cream, cold, have to wear a coat, kinda wet, falling ice, snowball, winter, dead.
“What would you compare it to?”
My sister sleeping.
“Is the snow sleeping?”
Yes
It also has energy
“For what?”
To make the grass grow in the spring.

I began writing their words in the 5 syllables, then 7 syllables, then 5 syllables. Here is our Haiku poem.
Peaceful snow sleeping
Watering seeds for Spring
Waiting for flowers.
We got the paints out and painted flowers coming out of the snow.

Ted is 86 and loves landscape paintings.
“I could never do one,” he said.
“Let’s try,” I said.

We watched as the water and colors spread across the page forming mountains and meadows with the wave of his hand. When it was finished, I held it up. He thought it needed a horse and asked if I would put one in it. I did just that and he asked for some more horses.

“Let’s write a poem about this picture. You come up with a sentence.”

He came up with a sentence about the sunset and we brainstormed on words that rhymed with “west”. We ended up with a 4 line poem.

The sun is setting in the west.
It is going down behind the crest.
A horse is following the rest.
“Wait for me” the stallion says.

Sandra was an hour early for supper.

She sat motionless at the table by herself. I quietly sat down beside her with a box of crayons and a piece of paper.

“Let’s draw something, “ I said.
“I don’t draw,” she retorted. I explained that we could do something together.
“What are some things you liked to do when you were younger?” I asked.
“ All I did was take care of children and cook,” she replied.

I picked up a black crayon and drew an iron skillet. I handed the paper to Sandra and asked her to put something in the pan. She decided on eggs. She drew them. I added some other details and she colored the picture. As we did, we talked about her life and a lot about cooking. When she was finished, she wanted to hang it on her wall.

A week later, her roommate (who normally stays secluded in her room) came to the activity room and wanted a “skillet” picture too. “I want sausage gravy in mine,” she said. Hence….another skillet picture…

Pictured is a percussion circle in an Alzheimer’s unit. We started by taking lots of time to pass the African drum around, feeling and smelling the hide stretched across the top, the ties, and rubbing our hands over the carvings at the bottom. One on one we echo as the others watch. As we get in the flow, more instruments are introduced (shakers, bells, etc.) We experiment with sounds as we sing various songs. Rhythm is something that is quite active beyond mental capabilities. It expresses the inner soul.

When there is pain, depression, or anxiety, art can soothe and heal. If allowed the freedom to do what is within, a specific style emerges over and over.

Pat says she likes people. She paints hundreds of them, lined up and with lots of color.

Laura over comes her fears and depression by letting paint flow from her brush in squiggly lines. The picture shown is only one of many that she has painted. Her eyes get happy when she paints.

Grizley is bedridden. The only way he is able to get through his day is through detailed drawings, usually cartoon style, highly detailed. It takes hours. He HAS hours, of course.