LOS ANGELES — Melanie Senn's father, long dead, appeared to her as she lay back in the dimly lit room at the Santa Monica clinic, a mask over her closed eyes, and the psychedelic trip began.
More precisely, it was his thumb. It was disembodied and huge, materializing in her mind to wipe away her own image. Just as a parent might lick a thumb, she said, and use it to clean the dirtied cheek of a child.
"It wasn't like an aggressive move," said Senn, 51, recounting the experience. Her father's thumb had appeared right after the word "goodbye" stretched before her, like a banner in the sky.
