This week my Alzheimer's art group collaged winter scenes.
It is a stretch, to move them through three different concepts - black trees, white snow, and collage - in one hour. 
But the hard work paid off. Each person found something that worked for them and pursued it. 
They finished happy, some so much so they stayed an extra 20 minutes, working or just talking about their art.
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I always line the finished pieces up, and point out how good they look together. Then I remind them that each piece is different, because each person is different.
One woman never says a word. But as she left, she turned to me and held out a last deer.
"Would you please put this in the corner?" She gestured to a painting. I glued the deer down. "Thank you," she beamed.