The painting of water lilies, for some inexplicable reason, reminds Lavar Earl of the Civil War. It's a little easier to see why a painting that suggests white tree trunks makes him think of soldiers. But it's harder to follow his assertion that it "could be a city."

Alice Shelton, Juanita Mathis and Jack Aoyagi have no doubt at all that the mass of swirling and intertwining reds and grays of another piece of art are snakes.

Art interpretation is a personal process that's influenced by experiences and memories. But for this group, that's a particularly interesting concept. They all live with some form of dementia, most often Alzheimer's. And they have become among the most regular visitors to the Utah Museum of Fine Arts.

At least four times a year, the day-care program at Neighborhood House brings a handful or so of its charges who have dementia. "I feel like anything that has them step out of the box and do something different and gets them in touch with their senses is important," says Kathie Williams, administrator at NH's Riverside Adult Day Center.

It started as a pilot project patterned after art programs in Boston and New York that reach out specifically to people with memory disorders. The Utah museum staff sought guidance and insight from the Boston Museum of Fine Arts, then decided to launch a pilot program to see what would happen, says Amy Edwards, co-director of public programs and educational services at the museum. They invited St. Joseph's Villa and Neighborhood House to come in small groups for tours led by specially trained docents and staff. When the trial period was up, Neighborhood House asked if it could please continue, to the museum staff's delight.

From the beginning, they've tried to include people who are interested in the experience and who have been in day care long enough to be comfortable there and fairly stable. At the museum, three staffers and docents were trained to lead the small special-needs tours of two or three visitors to a group. That improves familiarity.

Much of the value, though, is found in the simplest of things: texture, color, touch. That's why Virginia Catherall, co-director of public programs and one of the trained guides, carries a pale cotton bag filled with "touchables" that she'll bring out as they visit the exhibits.

"We found things they can touch are important," says Edwards. Near a painting of flowers, the guide might pull out an artificial flower of the same type and pass it around. Catherall says she looks for "threads." She repeats a story she told last time. She points out something familiar. The touchstones are important.

Wednesday, her group focused on texture. "What is that?" she asked, then suggested they touch their own hair and tell her what it felt like. Later, telling the story of a beautifully ornate piece of Chinese porcelain, she passed a smooth glass bowl around while they talked about what the porcelain would feel like, if they were allowed to touch it. "It feels like glass," Alice Shelton said of the bowl. But the porcelain, she opined, would be much finer than that. The painted trees, on the other hand, would be more like a rock Catherall pulled from the bag. "Rougher," Aoyagi said.