Guest blogger Lis Zadravec writes a heartfelt ode to the power of creativity, the sanctuary of the studio, and the emotional benefits of being an artist.
Some people say art is their happy place. I say art is my sanctuary, my safe place, a refuge, my therapy. When I get there, if I can get there, completely engaged in my work, it can bring joy. But like the medicine we know is good for us, human nature says to resist. The kid brain says, “No, I don’t wanna… “ I want to wallow in the muck of problems, relive old hurts. But once I am working and get in the zone, the world and all its problems just melt away.
“Art is not just my work; it’s my therapy. It keeps me sane in a world of chaos. It helps me cope when I am sad. And it helps me remember the world is still a beautiful place.” -Pendragon Studios
I am once again a happy kid with a box of crayons. Only my crayons are the best of the best of colored pencils and paper. Because I am making my art.
You don’t know me, so I will go ahead and over-share. Which is typical of people like me who have had their boundaries violated. We then don’t know where they rightly ought to be. I easily say too much and tell strangers my life story. I have PTSD and am pretty dyslexic. In my childhood days, the cool thing was to test for IQ. My siblings and I tested pretty high, so much was expected.
So why was I daydreaming out the classroom window? I wasn’t. The light on the trees was so cool and I was experiencing what I thought it might be like to be an impressionist painter and see the movement of the colors in the breeze. I could see what they painted, and it was so much more interesting to me than the lesson inside the classroom.
Looking back over my life, I wish someone along the way had helped me sort a few things out sooner. But I was born in the wrong generation, not one where someone may whisper in your ear, “Me too” or understand why the colors in the trees are more interesting than lessons.
I only knew I wanted to be an artist. After decades of abuse and even self-destructive behavior. I muddled through. I found my way because I had to. At one point, I was a mom and an art teacher. I was a mom and this I knew how to do as well as art. I had had a great Mom and wonderful art teachers. So, I mommed and art-teachered my way through a few decades. To this day, when triggered I say, “Let me just be a mom, let me just do my art.” These things I know how to do when everything else hurts.
Why does human nature lead us to wallow and re-live trauma? We want to find sympathy and commiserate. As in the best therapy, you talk about the problem, you peel the onion, you get to a deeper layer. But all of this is focused on the problem. Some even do art about their issues. Angry art, expressing their feelings, painting about whatever their hurts are.
“You are not lazy, unmotivated, or stuck. After years of living in survival mode, you are exhausted. There’s a difference.” Nakeia Homer
Art for me is a safe space, and my studio is hallowed ground for that reason. It is the antidote to the world and everything harmful. Once my daughter and I were having a terrible fight. I was standing in the doorway to my studio, and told her she was not allowed into my workspace. I could not allow that spirit in. Fight with me in the bedroom, the hallway, the kitchen. But keep my studio free of even harsh words.
Something bad did happen once in my space. It was many months and took changing the furniture around before I could work there again. And then every time I felt bad, I drew. I drew a cow with roses on her head. I didn’t know why I was drawing this pretty Jersey cow or the roses, considering I never used flowers as a subject. But when I drew them, they made me smile. Afterward, I looked at my work. I knew that I never draw my problems, but instead draw the opposite of them. At that time, I realized I had drawn a self-portrait. I was the cow, the provider, the mom. I had taken on so much, and like the cow I drew—I deserved a crown of roses.
“Colorful artwork can trigger the release of dopamine, a neurotransmitter associated with pleasure and reward, leading to feelings of happiness and well-being.” Dr Shivani Khetan, Expressive Arts Therapist
My motto is: Power through! All my students have heard me say it. Work like it’s your job. (It is after all.) Don’t wait for the moment, the wine, the spirit, because the perfect day won’t come. But in the doing, the day will become perfect.
Pick up your art and let your hands do what they do. Your brain will follow, and lead you to the refuge. Peace and hope will follow. Hope is a feeling that what is wanted can be had or that events will turn out for the best. It is to look forward to with desire and reasonable confidence. Embrace hope.
Beautifully said and I can completely relate to this.
Thank you, Patricia. Art is a powerful thing. We can use creativity to solve a multitude of problems.
-Lis