Photo: Marek Piwnicki/Unsplash

(Re)Locating Analytic Space by Christina Nadler

Distance is nothing new for psychoanalysts. Except for all the unimaginable newness, of course. The profound losses to be reckoned with for the training—and frankly, the life—I had imagined having before the pandemic. But I have been distant before this. […] To be at a distance is to still be at, to still be located, not completely untethered. This has always been the analyst’s task.

Circling

Circling by Loren Sobel

Looking out the window from my airplane seat, I anticipated seeing the familiar landmarks of the valley city below—Phoenix, Arizona—as they came into view during the flight’s descent.[…]But then there was a sudden change into the unfamiliar. The body—my body—has a way of communicating when it’s thrown from the familiar, dislodged from regular rhythms. I quickly felt disoriented. A second later, as my mind caught up to what my body already knew, I started to worry. The plane rolled.[…]In the (re)ascent, each individual’s seemingly solitary world gave way to a collective sharing. Suddenly we were all very aware of one another.

Absolute Silence ©Kelin Perry

Kelin Perry

Kelin Perry is an artist and architect born in Charlotte, North Carolina. She graduated with a Bachelor of Architecture from SCI-Arc in 1979 and has since practiced architecture in Atlanta, Georgia, where she currently lives. Perry’s art centers on found materials, which she uses to evoke a sense of the fragility of beauty and the passage of time. She has cultivated a reverence for the unseen, discarded, and forgotten. Perry uses paint, paper, and other media as well, but the use of reclaimed materials is central to her work. Perry has been in group shows at Lowe Gallery as well as group shows and a solo show at Hathaway Contemporary in Atlanta. She has also been included in several shows and residencies at M. David & Co. in Brooklyn, where she is currently represented.

Speaking the Impossible by Shelley Rockwell

I live directly across the street from our neighborhood elementary school, and on 9/11 I sat on this school’s playground with my young children as they circled in a mix of playfulness and aimlessness. They knew something terrible was around[…]In this essay I will explore several poems as they mark a moment of estrangement, terrible disjuncture.[…]As psychoanalysts, poets in a sense, we must manage this same tension between the veridical, the real times we live in and what we and our patients confront…