Walter Logeman: Journal
“Who Shall Survive?” begins with a universal statement about humanity.
“SOCIAL AND ORGANIC UNITY OF HUMANKIND *”
That’s the heading and it makes quite a statement! It is followed by the classic opening line about mankind:
“A truly therapeutic procedure cannot have less an objective than the whole of humankind.”
Continue reading “Moreno’s promise to humanity — in jeopardy”
I listened to the podcast and enjoyed it:
The Rime of the Ancient Mariner
Melvyn Bragg and guests discuss Coleridge’s poem of a grim voyage in which a sailor shoots an albatross and is forced to tell the story of his crime forever.
More info, but I wanted to see the Dore Images. Here is one:
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Wikipedia
The Rime of the Ancient Mariner (originally The Rime of the Ancyent Marinere) is the longest major poem by the English poet Samuel Taylor Coleridge, written in 1797–98 and published in 1798 in the first edition of Lyrical Ballads. Some modern editions use a revised version printed in 1817 that featured a gloss.[1] Along with other poems in Lyrical Ballads, it is often considered a signal shift to modern poetry and the beginning of British Romantic literature.[2]
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https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/43997/the-rime-of-the-ancient-mariner-text-of-1834
Social Work, Sociometry, & Psychodrama:
Experiential Approaches for Group Therapists, Community Leaders, and Social Workers
Dr. Scott Giacomucci, DSW, LCSW, BCD, FAAETS, PAT
Link to the book:
Loved this podcast.
https://radioopensource.org/write-like-the-russians/
Here is the description of the podcast:
I like my little sketch.
Yes No
Disturbing motive / reactive fear.
Hegel
In a living thing something dies and something is being born all the time.
new old
Listened to – On Being with Krista Tippett
Drew Lanham’I Worship Every Bird that I See’
Drew related to Mercy Mercy Me as an ecology anthem. Yes.
I watched these two kererū as I listened.
Marvin Gaye
Whoa, oh, mercy mercy me
Oh, things ain’t what they used to be, no no
Where did all the blue skies go?
Poison is the wind that blows from the North and South and East
Continue reading “Mercy Mercy Me (The Ecology)”
Here is the printable flyer for Theatre of Spontaneity 2021
Open evenings of Psychodrama in Christchurch
First Tuesday of every month. 6.30 to 9.00pm.
Come and participate in an evening of Psychodrama conducted by experienced group practitioners. Psychodrama is an active and enlivening method which aims to increase spontaneity, strengthen relationships and build community. We explore what emerges in the group on the stage and sometimes the events have a theme. Social or community issues may be to the fore, sometimes the event is more about personal or professional development.
The name Theatre of Spontaneity has its origins in Vienna, early last century, when Jacob Moreno, the founder of psychodrama, conducted theatre in this style.
The event has been happening regularly since February 2013. Usually between 10 and 15 people come. The evenings are conducted by qualified psychodrama directors
You are welcome, no experience necessary.
Please arrive by 6.15pm.
Venue:
Quaker Meeting House, 217 Ferry Road, Christchurch.
Fee:
Koha
Organised by the Canterbury/Westland branch of the Australian and Aotearoa New Zealand Psychodrama Association.
Browsing through old images I’ve made I’ve picked these out as favourite, more or less figurative, ones. I may add more.
Continue reading “Some favourite digital sketches — A Gallery”
A gallery of images — virtually illegible!
Across the stony ridges, across the rolling plain,
Young Harry Dale, the drover, comes riding home again.
And well his stock-horse bears him, and light of heart is he,
And stoutly his old pack-horse is trotting by his knee.
Up Queensland way with cattle he travelled regions vast;
And many months have vanished since home-folk saw him last.
He hums a song of someone he hopes to marry soon;
And hobble-chains and camp-ware keep jingling to the tune.
Beyond the hazy dado against the lower skies,
And yon blue line of ranges the homestead station lies.
Thitherward the drover jogs through the lazy noon,
While hobble-chains and camp-ware keep jingling to a tune.
Continue reading “The Ballad of the Drover”
