I made the decision to house my two turtles in my studio in their own enclosure because there is something quietly transformative about sharing a creative space with other living beings—especially ones that move at a different pace to our own. In my studio, the presence of turtles in a gently lit enclosure has become an unexpected but meaningful part of the art therapy environment.
Turtles invite slowness. In a world that often demands urgency, their steady, unhurried movements offer a subtle but powerful counterpoint. For clients arriving with anxiety, overwhelm, or racing thoughts, simply observing the turtles can begin to regulate the nervous system. Their rhythm encourages a shift—an embodied reminder that it is safe to slow down.
In art therapy, this shift can be significant. When clients feel calmer and more grounded, they are often better able to engage with materials, take creative risks, and remain present with their process. The turtles become a kind of silent co-regulator in the room, offering a focal point that is neither intrusive nor demanding.
There is also something symbolically rich about turtles that resonates in therapeutic work. They carry their homes with them, suggesting ideas of safety, boundaries, and self-protection. For some clients, this can open gentle, metaphorical conversations: What does it mean to retreat? When do we need a shell, and when might we risk emerging from it? These themes can naturally find their way into visual expression without needing to be forced.
The enclosure itself adds another layer to the studio environment. It introduces movement, texture, and life—water shifting, light reflecting, small interactions unfolding. These sensory elements can be grounding and can support clients who may find verbal expression difficult. For neurodivergent individuals or those experiencing trauma, having something living yet contained to observe can feel particularly reassuring.
Importantly, the turtles do not demand attention. They exist alongside the therapeutic process rather than becoming its focus. Clients are free to observe them as much or as little as they wish. For some, they become a comforting presence over time; for others, they remain a quiet backdrop. Both responses are valid and meaningful.
The inclusion of turtles in the studio does not change the core of art therapy—but it gently enriches it. It deepens the atmosphere, supports regulation, and opens subtle pathways for reflection and connection. In a practice that values presence, curiosity, and care, even the smallest companions can have a profound impact.
The enclosure is regularly cleaned, checked and risk assessed.

Ruth Goodman Art Therapy