The increased access to childhood memory may on the surface be absent, however the regression to child-like behaviours and the avocation with childhood play times and things are clearly the marks of underlying issues. Now where the boy grew up (yes he started growing up for a second kick at life at age 48) having fun was more important than doing therapy. Some mornings the host of mischievous deviations emerges as normal. The sand box is for adults! The rows of doll houses would have been such a PC plaything for a boy! The sandbox toys have been appropriated to the pool to splash adults!
We could stretch the boy to full understanding and walk through his memories or we could just humour him and treat the regression as simply early warning signs of aging! That face, contorted like the ceremonial figure. A crying out for a lot more than attention. He might want to see a dentist!
Somehow deeply seated in all this regression are fueling stations. These petrol dumps are scattered at points of convenience as required. Distribution continues in recycled bottles and signage is clearly apocalytic by Freudian slip. Some “stations” are full service and feature a compressor! There is no price fixing in this unregulated market. Bargaining can break out at any petrol rack!
In all this wandering around rice fields and tourist attrapments this best rendition of an original sampan hat was created in rattan and silver. A notch above the workplace variety. This always seeking head gear may have roots in one too many discipline session or some missed stage of attachment. You get the idea, playfulness will outperform therapy in recovery. Having fun, even childlike playfulness, is healing. A little regression might be good for our times. A peek backwards with Lot’s wife to paradise might give us a better sense of direction.