I have been asked to describe art therapy. Sit back with a cup of coffee and enjoy. I cannot accomplish this in a short post!
Ok. So. Being an artist already, I was pretty curious about how it would work for me. I know that art therapy is often used to help children open up and express their fears, problems, etc. in a safe, familiar way. I know that art therapy is used to help disabled people and elderly people express themselves. How does art therapy help an artist?
I have been in and out of therapy since 1999. That was the year that I broke up with a long-term boyfriend of 6 years and I felt I needed help staying out of that relationship once I ended it. I needed to learn how to say "no, no more" to this person, who was very persistent in trying to win me back. So I started seeing a social worker for therapy once a week. Little did I know how deep my problems ran; they were far more complicated than a bad breakup. This relationship had been a symptom of sorts. Once the relationship ended symptoms started to pop up in other mysterious places. I continued to see this therapist, plus a psychiatrist for 2 years. In the meantime I fell in love (for real this time, god, how different it felt) and married my now husband. :)
I took a break from therapy up until about 6 months ago when the symptoms became unbearably disruptive again. I was also referred to a psychaitrist for medication to help "lessen the hurt." This has been very helpful in some ways, and aggravating in others. But it does help me see a bit more clearly so I can make better progress.
My last therapist referred me to my current art therapist (we'll call her S). She is essentially a therapist who is trained in all the traditional methods of therapy, plus she knows how to use art as a theraputic medium. In my first session I gave her the super-abridged history of Kate (I practically have it memorized now, this being my umpteenth recital) and she bounced back some immediate reactions and ideas. Every therapist is different, there is always a new perspective, at least at first. Then, based upon my story and the data in her files, she gave me a project to do at home.
The project was to take 20 minutes, no longer than 30 minutes. Not long enough to allow myself to get involved in the rules of perspective, light source or rendering. Just long enough to evoke an emotion, and allow the right side of my brain to express it. The subject and the assignment were essentially very simple in theory. But it was hard to put pencil to paper and just do it. I put it off for a whole week until the day of my next session, and I did it in a restaurant on my lunch break. I bought a separate sketch book for these assignments because these are definitely separate from my usual fuzzy, whimsical, child-oriented work. I chose to use a woodless graphite pencil... a tool I haven't used since college. Far less colorful than my usual watercolors. This may have been symbolic in some way. S had said that she was interested in what medium I would choose. She also had said that if I sat for 20 minutes and couldn't do anything, not to worry, that has its own implications as well. If the project is not fun for me, then she is probably on the right track. It should not be easy. Crap.
When I brought my drawing in to my session that night (feeling rather guilty for putting it off until that day), I sat down and we small talked a bit and out of nowhere S said, "Ok, did you do your assignment? Let's see it." Bam. Um... ok then. No introduction, just show it. She looked at it for a few moments during which I became very nervous in my stomach and then she said that it was "a very powerful drawing, don't yout think?" She stood it up on her desk so it was staring back at me. I didn't like to look at it. I didn't want it looking at me. The whole thing felt uncomfortably yucky. We talked about why I chose to make certain things smaller, larger, closer, further, darker, lighter, etc. This led into tangent conversations about the emotions and stories attached to it. At the end of the session (45 minutes, way too short!) she asked how I felt about doing the assignment. A bit ashamed, I told her I had put it off until lunch that day. How I did not want to do it at home in my studio. She said this was typical and perfectly ok. Procrastination is acceptable if not welcome with her projects. "Whew! How refreshing!" I thought out loud. So different from the deadline oriented world of graphic design and illustration. Of course, that's the only real refreshing thing about it.
I've had one session since then, and was given a seemingly less disturbing assignment. Yet, it was even harder to get myself to do it, which was disappointing because it sounded like so much fun. I ended up doing it while working on something else at work, kind of off to the side, again on the day of my next session. I wasn't happy with the result. I felt it was weak. And really, that makes sense. That is important. She had asked me to draw myself as the person I want to be. She said it can be difficult to strive to be a better "you" if you cannot visualize what that "you" is. Putting it onto paper should help. It sounded simple. But if you are a perfectionist prone to super-mega-realism and you only have 20 minutes, it can be very intimidating to even start. I was afraid that I would sell myself short. How do I draw me happy, healthy, successful, free of all the things that are weighing me down? No wonder it was hard to do. I have alot of difficulty imagining that it will ever really happen.
This week I have to elaborate on last week's drawing. I had drawn myself floating up into a warm, inviting light source. If you saw it you might think that my goal was to be an angel or a fairy princess. Over, done.
S wants to know what that light is. What's in it. What does it mean. "Draw it." Oh dear.
