Phototherapy Techniques: Using Clients' Personal Snapshots and Family Photos as Counseling and Therapy Tools; In memory of Arnold Gassan—photographer, poet and PhotoTherapy pioneer - Feature

Afterimage, Nov-Dec, 2001 by Judy Weiser

Introduction

Astronaut Neil Armstrong carried photographs of his parents with him on his first trip into space, so he could "take them along" with him to the moon. A child in the park excitedly shouts for his mother to come quickly to take his picture while he does handstands in the pool. A woman not yet "out" to her parents as being lesbian hides all photos of her with her girlfriend when her mother comes to visit. People gather at school reunions, wedding receptions and other social events to smilingly bring decades-old photos showing the past (and hoped-for future), to reawaken memories about the past. A woman describes how her attitude toward her birth mother totally changed when, after meeting her 30 years later, she discovered her mother had worn a locket containing her baby photo since the day she handed her over for adoption. Families pose for holiday portraits to mark memories ("stop time") as well as to serve as communications to others who will view them later. An awkward and gangly teenager admits shyly that a lthough he doesn't like his recent school photo, he's nevertheless happy to learn his dad is carrying it around in his wallet, saying this means he is loved and "safe in Dad's heart," even though his Dad can't seem to find a way to say so out loud.

Ordinary moments such as these, so commonplace that people rarely notice them, not only illustrate the power that simple ordinary "non-art" photographs hold in most peoples' lives, but also help explain the reason why photography is so different from other art media, especially when used for therapeutic (or even self-exploration) purposes.

The actual meaning of any photograph can never be totally objectively known or predicted, especially by an "outside observer" who was not initially involved in any portion of that image's creation. In this sense, it can easily be seen how a camera's lens always focuses inward at least as much as it does outward toward the subject of the photographer's gaze. And this photograph, once given tangible fixed form, will never be able to fully duplicate the complete slice of life its photographer was attempting to record. Since each viewer's response is based upon uniquely individual perceptions, the actual meaning of any photograph therefore exists only as an unobservable, though not necessarily random, intersection of sensory-coded associations that occur only in the intangible interface between each person and that particular image itself.

Physics teaches that when something is naturally flowing by in the form of waves of energy, trying to stop it in time long enough to examine it will inexorably alter the very nature of what one is trying to observe. Similarly, trying to use a photograph to freeze time, which cannot be stopped in the first place, will achieve at best only an approximation of the moment (and emotions) the photographer was trying to capture. Feelings themselves are transient, unless a camera captures their behavioral or affective manifestations. It is actually only their visual "traces" that appear on film. What is visible in a photograph is only the time-imprint left behind by the moment just passed, and instead of showing what truly existed in front of the lens, it captures only the light reflected back off these things. However, awareness of this differentiation is usually lost in the split-second interaction, between human and snapshot, that somewhat holo-graphically creates the meaning that is seen to be residing in the pho tograph itself.

Because people's feelings similarly exist as ever-flowing waves of sensory energy, their thoughts and words about these can only be approximations attempting to solidify what is felt inside without any words labeling them. As was so evident in the inability of people to speak about their intense reactions to the devastation caused by recent terrorist attacks in the United States, it is not easy to represent (represent) inner experiences out to others using an externalized verbal form of communication (language) that lets them fully share their thoughts and feelings with others. People are usually literally speechless under such extreme emotional circumstances; however, the information sensorially bombarding their brains (and bodies) during such times nevertheless continues to enter and be stored there, awaiting something other than words to access, unlock and communicate what is nonverbally held deep inside.

More particularly, if one is attempting to do this using a common verbal code of a mutually spoken/written language (i.e., speaking or writing), this will always be dependent upon mutual agreement between sender and receiver of the communication about what exact content those words signal. In other words, language is a translation of a translation of an experience that originated solely as directly-experienced nonverbal sensory input, and thus it is difficult to discuss in words what naturally exists in people without words.

From this, it should be obvious that any attempt to use words to give voice to feelings will automatically interrupt their "live" natural flow and thus inexorably and directly change their nature, simply because they are being observed and being forced into thought-translations (cognitive frameworks) that can never fully contain them. And the reverse is also true: trying to use words to precipitate or create feelings will usually not fully succeed, because it is basically impossible to simultaneously talk about something and feel it at the same time. This is also one reason why people who are having problems in their personal lives, who find it hard to explain or resolve these difficulties through logical reasoning or discussions with friends or family, will often turn in frustration to various mental health professionals for help. And, this is also the reason why any therapy process done to help them, if based only on verbal interaction between client and counselor, will probably never be as efficient as whe n that language of therapeutic communication can also include the use of additional visual-symbolic representations that can metaphorically bridge into the unconscious, into places where words do not (and cannot) go.