Making Art Can Make It Clear
Shining light and bringing clarity.
Humans are simple in some ways. We all have the same basic biological functioning and we’ve all got the same basic needs for safety, security, love, and growth.
We’re complicated, too. As we grow and our frontal lobe develops fully we engage in more complex thinking, and more convoluted thinking, too. There are layers to our thought processes, and we often have thoughts and feelings that simmer beneath the surface, unseen and unrecognized until something shifts and they rise.
Art can be a catalyst for such a process of self-discovery. Whether we know it or not, our intuition is at work when we create. Our creations often show aspects of our memories, thoughts and feelings that we may not even be aware of.
This is true for me when I write. Whether it’s a journal entry, an essay, a novel or a song, my writing will unveil pieces of my inner world that I was not aware of before the words tumbled across the page.
I was given a song prompt once, and the song that bubbled up and spilled out revealed deep pain and made it clear that it was time to make a decision that would significantly alter the course of my life. I’d been fooling myself into thinking otherwise, holding on when it was time to let go.
This is also true in visual art. In 2015 I participated in an intuitive painting workshop. The invitation was to paint a tree representing our self, and to add elements to the painting to symbolize aspects of our life. Following the instructions, I painted a dark sky in shades of green and added uneven ground upon which I painted a tree representing my Self. There is a smattering of tiny flowers on the ground representing community, three barely discernable green leaves falling from the tree representing letting go, and a star in the sky representing hope for the future. It was stark. I was satisfied that I had met the requirements of the task. I brought the painting home
It was days later that I was reflecting on the painting and realized the deeper symbolism. The tree with its scarred heart is me. There are eleven branches. Four have heart shaped leaves of different colours while seven are bare. I have four living children and I had six miscarriages, including a twin pregnancy. In 2015, our youngest child was nine years old and I was well into my evolution from child protection worker to grief and trauma therapist. This painting revealed much about the way grief still shaped my inner vision of self than I had considered in several years.
In 2017 I would experience another wave of grief rising that led me to write a memoir about my experience of pregnancy loss twenty years after our first loss, when I thought I was well and truly “done” with grieving. Making art proved otherwise.
Our art can bring clarity by shining a light on hidden bits of our story and our psyche. When they come to light, there is opportunity for healing. What’s waiting to rise from within as you make your next piece of art?
Celebrate with me!
On Saturday June 21, 2025 I’m throwing a party to officially launch my latest books and release my latest music. There will be light refreshments, including birthday cake as we celebrate my mom’s 79th birthday, too. I’ll play a set of my original songs, accompanied by Steve Shikaze and there may be a surprise or two on the set list. If you’re in and around Kingsville, Ontario that day, you’d be welcome to join us at the Kingsville Legion from 1-4 pm for a little fellowship and frivolity.
