Cezanne asserted, “There is no line…a bloodless contour should not be trusted.” All of us, we love to tell, to repeat our stories, our memories, but does it do us good?
When I tell people I’m a psychiatrist, sometimes they ask, “So, are you a Freudian, a Jungian, or a Kleinian?” As an insight-oriented therapist and psychoanalyst, I think we have entered a new era in which such labels no longer fit.
All of my life I have been a woman of faith. St. Francis De Sales says the purest form of prayer is the cry of the heart.
Cleaning out old files, I came across a reading list for a humanities class I had been curious about. One title was Nathaniel Hawthorne’s allegory, “Birthmark”.
Beloved folktales have universal appeal as they enshrine powerful unconscious fears and fantasies from old feelings of dependency and helplessness in childhood.
What do Van Gogh’s paintings, a can opener, the small pox vaccine, a smart phone, the salad you prepared recently and Beethoven’s 9th symphony have in common?
When I play the flute I enter another world. I stop being occupied by my every day life. In many ways, unlike spoken language, music transports me into a world of sound, rhythm, melody, song, and emotion.
In the documentary, “Herb and Dorothy”, we meet the Vogels, who acquired a world renowned collection of conceptual and minimal art in New York City.
Biennially, the National Portrait Gallery fosters a competition where artists around the country submit intimate portrayals of another human being – sometimes themselves.
What can a psychoanalytic view of Shakespeare tell us? First, that Shakespeare can teach psychoanalytic therapists—and others—a great deal about people: about our deepest feelings; about our closest relationships; about our struggles to understand ourselves and others.