I have been practicing this profession for nine years now and this has brought me… I don't know… loneliness and solitude?
At least that's what my unconscious is shouting to tell me at a distant end of a tunnel.
"I'm gonna need you to dunk this dropper in that container." I instructed pointing to the direction of the container. "It contains black ink which you will be using to spill and drop just tiny amount of ink in this blank paper." I continued and laid a piece of blank paper on the desk.
She just nodded but confused and showed reluctance so I kept my pace with her and explained the instruction bit by bit so she could cope up fairly. My voice sounded very calm and slow paced.
I handed her the dropper, then another blank piece of paper. "After you dunked the dropper and pour the ink on the paper, use this other paper to splat it over the ink on the paper, okay Rose?" I said in a very friendly tone.
She just nodded again in response to my instructions.
"Are you following me?" I asked, just to make sure we're still on the same page.
"Yes." She shortly responded.
"Good." I smiled. "Go ahead and dunk it now and wait for my cue before you pour a drop of ink on the paper."
She responded with an "Okay." and dunked the dropper then positioned it right on top of the blank paper.
"Wait for my cue…" I raised my right hand with an open palm to assist and guide my cue. I paused for a moment while maintaining eye contact with her. This time both our hands are extended on air.
This part of the activity will test her temperament in handling and facing situations that are quite challenging in one's patience, temperance and perception. I developed this strategy so I can have a peek at the clients' traits and attitudes. Therefore, I can gain decent leeway to access their current stance and affect.
I delayed for another 20 seconds, so our hands are both extended up in the air now for almost half a minute.
The logic in delaying this part is to test her patience and control. When you are holding up an object, a couple or three seconds- no problem. five seconds? Still easy, but if it goes on for another three seconds or more, sooner or later you will feel the burden of the weight no matter how light the object is.
I'm seeing the change in her mood now. She squinted her eyes at me and her arms started to shake a little bit. Of course, I'm feeling exhaustion in my arms as well, but I held on to it a little longer.
"Now." Simultaneously making my open palm to thumbs up. As soon as I cued her, she immediately squeezed the dropper consequently followed by multiple continuous drops of black ink. Then she lowered down her arm to rest. She portrayed a sign of relief in her face.
She is showing her attitude, unconsciously. I'm having access to it slowly.
I handed her the other blank paper, and she received it and positioned the paper on her palm- ready to splat at the ink. She knows what to do but has not acted just yet. Although she was in haste due to her patience already being compromised a minute ago, she looked at me and waited for my cue.
I just smiled at her and nodded, signaling her to do it.
Not another second, and a sharp splat noise sounded around the office. Some of the black ink splashed over on our shirt because of the hard hit she did and successfully scattered the ink on the paper.
I did not mind and just paid attention to her, closely observing her face, her eyes, and her breathing.
The result of just that part already tells a lot about her attitude.
She dirtied her clothes with the ink but did not show any sign of anger or irritableness. Which suggests that she may be goal-oriented, disregarding those negatively affecting her and may be more focused on dealing with problems and difficult situations. The part where she is starting to lose her patience within the one and half minute time frame but waited for the cue regardless, instead of squeezing on her own will may tell that she tends to query first and investigate the situation around her and does not directly act impulsively but it also shows her dependence on others.
Her mood had become elated, and her breathing is fast, which could indicate something.
"Okay, now separate the papers and place them both open on the table. The bottom one on your left then the other on the right." She followed what I told her to do and did so.
The two pieces of paper with printed black ink now openly rest before us. She looked at it and was rendered confused. Before I lost her affect that was not yet in a state of defensive due to the stimuli presented to her, I distinctly proceeded to give her my further instructions.
"Look carefully and thoroughly at the papers Rose." I said and arranged the two papers properly. "As you can see… the black ink was printed firmly by you. Now, take your time to observe what you can see on the printed ink and tell me about your perception of the art you did."
I slid the bottom paper towards her. "Tell me about this." Then flipped the other paper's surface to hide the printed ink.
People view the world differently and in a uniquely distinguished way. How we see the world around us is anchored by our desire or how we want it to be, sometimes our unconscious manifests over it so we sometimes feel unsatisfied even when we think that things are already good. But our unconscious, which is pretty much our true self is trying to tell us another. The instance that we tend to thinking first before responding negates what we say "I am me", because when we do so, we are considering many factors first such as how the question was addressed to us- is the one asking angry or relaxed or is it a love one or an enemy asking, the feelings of other people, the societal norms; these are just a few of the things we think first before responding. So, when we consciously respond to something, we are most likely responding for the satiety of ourselves in relation to the world we are in, but when we respond unconsciously, then we are doing so in our truest self.
"…." She stared at it.
"Blood…" She spoke in a very minimal voice, almost I cannot hear it.
A few moments later, she started sweating. I only waited for her to talk to avoid disrupting her processing of the image created of the Inksplat.
I adapted this technique from Hermann Rorschach's Inkblot Test, who unfortunately died just a year after publication of his tool. His idea, which I found making much sense- wherein people's personality and thought patterns, can actually be identified by their perceptions and approach in viewing something.
I, who have been doing this technique for years now has been doing the observation and looking at God knows how many Inksplats I have look at. I see the same goddamn thing all the time.
"Blood… scattered… I don't know…." By the sound of her voice, she was scared and shaky. She began looking pale.
"I'm listening."
Rose was clinically diagnosed with Insomnia Disorder. If she will let her unconscious to rule over for a few more time I might be looking into something more than that.
"Looking at this, I'm feeling hurt!" She started tearing up. "I can't do this!" She shouted.
I remained composed and calm but watching the change in the way her eyes were a while ago, from blank and clueless to fiery red and looking very sharp almost it could pierce right through me, she may have done or have been through a horrible experience.
"Rose…" I called her name several times but no response. She seemed to have zoned out.
She's now crying while in derealization.
I'm thinking of the previous Inksplats I have seen and all of Rorschach's Inkblots. Why am I seeing no human figures now?
Ring~~ Ring~~ Ring~~
I was awakened by the sound of my phone ringing on my desk. It was around 2 in the afternoon, and I was feeling the tingling hot sensation of the warm air grazing over my skin making me sweat. I figured out I turned off the ac when I went out to lunch after the session and forgot to turn it on. I fell asleep as soon as I came back here, due to exhaustion maybe.
I picked up my phone and answered it.
"Hello? Is this Mr. Engañar?"
"Speaking…" I responded half-asleep. I reached for the water bottle on my desk I had bought and took a gulp.
"Are you free tomorrow? I'm staying just across Johnston Street. Is it possible to make an appointment with you here at my house?" said the man on the phone.
"May I know who I am talking to?" I took another sip of water before putting the bottle down back on my desk and spontaneously looked at my calendar schedule for tomorrow's date.
Vacant in the morning to noon.
"I'm Walpol, I think you have an idea who I am right?" He said in a satirical tone.
"The richest man in town. The guy with the most mansions." I thought to myself.
A bit skeptical, I asked, "Stephen Walpol?"
"No mistake." He muttered.
I voiced a low "Oh…"
"So, are you free tomorrow?" He asked in a hopeful tone.
"Well, I'm occupied in the afternoon… So, we'll meet in the morning, is that fine?" I noted while rechecking my schedules on the calendar.
"That'd be just fine! Looking forward to seeing you!"
"Okay then Mr. Walpol, I'll see you!" I said just before he hung up.
Ring~~ Ring~~
Walpol called again.
"Oh! Can you bring coffee on your way here tomorrow? Since we're meeting early, I'd really appreciate one. I'll pay you here!"
"Okay… Sure thin—" I was not able to finish because he already hung up.
Sighed. Coffee it is!