According to John this app demonstrates narrative therapy questions and includes over 280
examples. First, the app asks for a word or phrase that you identify as
a problem such as “worry” or something you want more of in your life
such as “kindness.” Second, the app then inserts your chosen word or
phrase into a series of questions informed by narrative principles, and
your answers to the questions are recorded.
This process demonstrates how narrative questions allow you to explore a
word or phrase from many different perspectives and make choices on how
you want to interact with this word or phrase in your life. When you
finish, you can send the questions and your responses to your email
address for further reflection.
The app features two settings:
• General public setting for those interested in a demonstration of
narrative therapy questions. Gives an understanding of narrative ideas
through the metaphor of a journey.
• Teaching setting where each question is connected to a corresponding
narrative principle that informs it. Useful for professionals who are
interested in learning more about narrative therapy.
Not meant as a replacement for narrative therapy, this app, however,
shows what narrative questions look like and increases understanding of
and access to narrative ideas.
The Afterlife They're moving off in all imaginable directions, each according to his own private belief, and this is the secret that silent Lazarus would not reveal: that everyone is right, as it turns out. you go to the place you always thought you would go, the place you kept lit in an alcove in your head.
Some are being shot into a funnel of flashing colors into a zone of light, white as a January sun. Others are standing naked before a forbidding judge who sits with a golden ladder on one side, a coal chute on the other.
Some have already joined the celestial choir and are singing as if they have been doing this forever, while the less inventive find themselves stuck in a big air conditioned room full of food and chorus girls.
Some are approaching the apartment of the female God, a woman in her forties with short wiry hair and glasses hanging from her neck by a string. With one eye she regards the dead through a hole in her door.
There are those who are squeezing into the bodies of animals - eagles and leopards - and one trying on the skin of a monkey like a tight suit, ready to begin another life in a more simple key,
while others float off into some benign vagueness, little units of energy heading for the ultimate elsewhere.
There are even a few classicists being led to an underworld by a mythological creature with a beard and hooves. He will bring them to the mouth of the furious cave guarded over by Edith Hamilton and her three-headed dog.
The rest just lie on their backs in their coffins wishing they could return so they could learn Italian or see the pyramids, or play some golf in a light rain. They wish they could wake in the morning like you and stand at a window examining the winter trees, every branch traced with the ghost writing of snow. - Billy Collins
54 is an ongoing interdisciplinary project created over several
years with participation in multiple biennials, beginning with the 2010
California Biennial. 54 critiques biennials as a cultural form and
explores their complex socioeconomic and political structures in the
form of film production, multi-media artworks and ephemera, immersive
film installation and a series of books. In 2011 FS traveled to
Venice, Italy with fifteen people to shoot the film in and around the La Biennale di Venezia. Most recently, FS collaborated with Devon Tsuno for the Venice Beach Biennial, a special program for Made in LA, the Hammer Museum's inaugural biennial exhibition.
“She is the friend of my mind. She gather me, man.
The pieces I am, she gather them and give them back to me in all the
right order. It is good, you know, when you got a woman who is the
friend of your mind.”
Occasionally the child, too, is a pleasure,
though mostly she is a joy, which means in fact she gives us not much
pleasure at all, but rather that strange admixture of terror, pain, and
delight that I have come to recognize as joy, and now must find some way
to live with daily. This is a new problem. Until quite recently I had
known joy only five times in my life, perhaps six, and each time tried
to forget it soon after it happened, out of the fear that the memory of
it would dement and destroy everything else.
“The individual is the product of power. What is
needed is to de-individualize by means of multiplication and
displacement, diverse combinations. The group must not be the organic
bond uniting hierarchized individuals, but a constant generator of