Art is therapeutic

This past weekend a friend of mine had a going away party for one of the other English teachers who goes to our church. She wanted to spruce up her place for the gathering and decided to make some paintings for her walls. I was a little wary when she asked me to help-- it sounded like fun, but I'm not exactly Picaso. However, she told me she was going for more of an abstract/modern art feel and didn't really have much art experience either, so I figured why not give it a shot?

And I am so glad that I did. Painting with the other girls that night awoke a little part of myself that I had forgotten ever existed. Before last week, I had not really done any type of painting or drawing since I was in middle school, but prior to that I created art all the time. I would sit at the kitchen table or cross-legged in my bedroom floor and paint watercolor portraits for hours, stopping only after I had run out of space to let them all dry. Or sometimes I would take a sketchbook and charcoal pencils out in the backyard or to the park to draw the things that I saw. I even had my own pottery wheel and entered into art contests at school. I absolutely loved it all.

But somehow, over the years I managed to forget this. Not only did I forget the joy that I derived from art, but I actually completely forgot that I had ever even done any of those things. Looking back now, though, I realize that I stopped doing art around the same time that I stopped writing creatively. I am not sure at what exact moment it all changed, but I do know that at some point relatively early on in my life, I decided that because I am not a brilliant artist or some great prolific writer, it was no longer worthwhile for me to do those things. Somewhere along the way, I had decided that doing something simply because I loved it was no longer enough. And I let the fear of "not being good enough" (by what standard, I'm not sure?) keep me from doing things that had always made me happy.

In that one evening, however, I was able to experience once again just the pure joy that the simple act of painting can bring. The time with friends being creative together provided me with a much needed a release; there is just something about doing art that is so very therapeutic. As I've mentioned before, I love to write because it's a creative outlet that helps me to really process and make sense of my thoughts, but creating visual art allows me to do something that writing does not and cannot; it allows me to create without requiring that I make sense of anything. For me, it is simply about feeling life and experiencing reality, and being able to reflect those feelings and experiences onto something outside of myself, without reason or words.

And the best part is, it is not the end result that really matters, but it is instead the process of creating that is important. It is this process that awakens the human capacity for creation ingrained deep within us, and it is this process that is so basic to our nature as image-bearers of a Creator-God. For this reason, it is impossible to "fail" or to "not be good enough" when creating art. In visual media we are completely free to express the things that we think and feel and see in the world around us-- free to express those things that we may not feel safe to put into words or that we may not even be able to make sense of ourselves.

It had been a very long time since I had experienced that kind of freedom. And while I realize that my explanation of all of this may sound deep and complex, in reality the experience of making art is so simple and joyful--and therein lies it's true beauty.

After that night, I got online to do some research on art therapy. I was curious to find out the different ways that people use art as treatment. Turns out the uses range from providing stress relief, to treating mental illness, to coping with chronic and other serious illnesses, to simple self-discovery. Art therapy can be used by virtually anyone for nearly any reason-- it is at once universal and deeply personal. For example, I came across a video on one art therapy blog about an innovative program in Saudi Arabia that uses art therapy to help rehabilitate former terrorists.



Creating (for) peace and hope. Absolutely love it.

Here in Korea, art therapy is a relatively new but rapidly growing field, particularly in demand as treatment for mental illness. While a unified national certification system has yet to be established, as of December 2008 there were 10 graduate-level schools, 5 undergraduate schools, 14 continuing education programs, and 6 associations dedicated to art therapy education in South Korea. This growth and interest in art as therapy can perhaps be explained in part by a particular cultural need among Koreans. In one news article I came across, an art therapist from a hospital in Seoul "pointed out that members of Korean society influenced by Confucianism were not accustomed to expressing their feelings, but staying quiet only led to isolation. She added: 'Opening up is important for a healthy mind, and art therapy is one way to achieve this.'"

I can relate. While I didn't grow up in a culture that stifles the expression of one's feelings in the same way (though arguably my environment might have done so in different ways), it has never been the easiest thing for me to express my true feelings-- except with those who are closest to me and with whom I have formed a strong bond of trust over time. And, being that I am now so far from those people that I trust the most, it is difficult for me to not close up and stay quiet about both my struggles and my joys with new people that I meet here. And perhaps that is why I felt such a release in painting the other night-- I was finally letting myself open up.

So, all that to say, I definitely think that art is something I need more of in my life. And perhaps it's something that the rest of the world could use a little more of, too.