This blog post is part of my 2017 Write 31 Days blog series 31 Reflections on Mental Health and Illness. To read the whole series, click here for the series index page.
There is power in art. It has the power to transfix, move, inspire, enlighten, excite, overwhelm, and even heal. Most of these powers are found in the finished work of art -- whether that is a painting or book or movie or piece of music -- but the healing power of art is often found in the creation of it.
As someone who has spent a lot of her life involved in singing, dance, and theatre arts, I have a deep appreciation for all the many forms that art takes. Although I am not very gifted when it comes to the visual arts like drawing, painting, or sculpture, I find myself drawn to them and drawn to try to create something using paints, pencils, or other media. I used to wonder why I felt this way, but the older I have gotten, I think the reason is that I find something in creating a piece of visual art that benefits my mental health. There is nothing quite like skimming a pencil, pen, brush, or even a crayon over a fresh white sheet of paper and causing it to bring forth shapes, lines, and colour. Likewise, there is something infinitely satisfying about the feeling of clay, fabric, or yarn in my hands as I manipulate it into something that pleases me or expresses what I am feeling. It soothes and comforts my spirit to create. The very act of creation can be healing in and of itself, but creating something can be healing in another way.
One of the things that I am most adamant about when it comes to mental health is talk therapy. I have been through hours and hours of therapy. After all these years, you would think that I have this talking thing down. The problem is that even though Pendragon (my therapist of just over 8 years) knows me better than nearly anyone (save my husband), there are times when I find it hard to express what I'm feeling in words. That's when I sometimes turn to creating something that, hopefully, expresses what is inside my head and heart better than I can verbalise.
I didn't always do this, but about two years or so ago, I got a spiral bound sketch book and some basic art supplies (crayons, coloured pencils, oil pastels, markers) and every time I was feeling like I needed to get something out but couldn't find the words (or wasn't able to talk to Pendragon at that moment), I would get out the sketch book and start creating. The first time I did this, I was away from home visiting my in-laws and feeling really overwhelmed by the cacophony of all the noise and activity in their house, so I went to the local Panera Bread with my art supplies, grabbed a cup of coffee and settled in for an hour or two. When I left there, I felt more grounded and better able to manage my emotions.
Later, when I got home, I shared what I had drawn with Pendragon. He asked me questions and made observations about it (some of which surprised me) and I was able to glean an insight or two as well. After that experience, I packed my art supplies in a backpack and now whenever I am going to be away from home for several hours (and I know that I'll have an hour or so free time while I'm gone), I grab the backpack and take it along. Most recently, I was struggling to explain to Pendragon my current mental state, so I decided to try to draw it out. I'm not a great artist, but when I showed it to him at our next session, he immediately connected the dots and helped me to better understand it too. He also pulled some meaning out of it that, while not something I'd originally intended, was startlingly accurate and very helpful in my healing.
If you are struggling to express your feelings or need a way to help release some difficult emotions, I encourage you to create something. You can use whatever materials you like. The only rule I have for myself when I create a piece of therapeutic art is that I draw what I'm feeling and I don't hold back. If it's happy, I draw happiness. If it's sad, I draw sadness. If it's dark and dangerous, I draw dark and dangerous. If it's a mix of emotions, I draw the mix. The reason I don't hold back is that I want to be honest about my feelings -- even the really difficult, messy, and scary ones -- so that I can find healing through the act of creation. So go forth and create!
P. S. Sometimes I create by baking something. I've always loved baking (and cooking) and I am pretty good at it too. I find the repetitive movements involved in the process (chopping, peeling, stirring, kneading, measuring, etc) very soothing and it's always fun to see and eat the end result of all that work.
One of the things that I am most adamant about when it comes to mental health is talk therapy. I have been through hours and hours of therapy. After all these years, you would think that I have this talking thing down. The problem is that even though Pendragon (my therapist of just over 8 years) knows me better than nearly anyone (save my husband), there are times when I find it hard to express what I'm feeling in words. That's when I sometimes turn to creating something that, hopefully, expresses what is inside my head and heart better than I can verbalise.
I didn't always do this, but about two years or so ago, I got a spiral bound sketch book and some basic art supplies (crayons, coloured pencils, oil pastels, markers) and every time I was feeling like I needed to get something out but couldn't find the words (or wasn't able to talk to Pendragon at that moment), I would get out the sketch book and start creating. The first time I did this, I was away from home visiting my in-laws and feeling really overwhelmed by the cacophony of all the noise and activity in their house, so I went to the local Panera Bread with my art supplies, grabbed a cup of coffee and settled in for an hour or two. When I left there, I felt more grounded and better able to manage my emotions.
Later, when I got home, I shared what I had drawn with Pendragon. He asked me questions and made observations about it (some of which surprised me) and I was able to glean an insight or two as well. After that experience, I packed my art supplies in a backpack and now whenever I am going to be away from home for several hours (and I know that I'll have an hour or so free time while I'm gone), I grab the backpack and take it along. Most recently, I was struggling to explain to Pendragon my current mental state, so I decided to try to draw it out. I'm not a great artist, but when I showed it to him at our next session, he immediately connected the dots and helped me to better understand it too. He also pulled some meaning out of it that, while not something I'd originally intended, was startlingly accurate and very helpful in my healing.
If you are struggling to express your feelings or need a way to help release some difficult emotions, I encourage you to create something. You can use whatever materials you like. The only rule I have for myself when I create a piece of therapeutic art is that I draw what I'm feeling and I don't hold back. If it's happy, I draw happiness. If it's sad, I draw sadness. If it's dark and dangerous, I draw dark and dangerous. If it's a mix of emotions, I draw the mix. The reason I don't hold back is that I want to be honest about my feelings -- even the really difficult, messy, and scary ones -- so that I can find healing through the act of creation. So go forth and create!
P. S. Sometimes I create by baking something. I've always loved baking (and cooking) and I am pretty good at it too. I find the repetitive movements involved in the process (chopping, peeling, stirring, kneading, measuring, etc) very soothing and it's always fun to see and eat the end result of all that work.
