Please note: “trigger warning”.
“Art is a wound, turned into light.” ~ Georges Braque
For me, the process of writing and making art is what turns wounds into light. Many of my poems and art pieces are NOT about healing, but the process of creating is healing for me no matter what I create. I believe that when we engage our creativity, it wakes up our life force. I already knew this about writing, then when I studied Expressive Arts from 2000 to 2006, I had some experiences that made this abundantly clear. One day, I had a watershed experience. (This was sometime during the Expressive Arts training program I completed in 2006.)
We began with movement that day. I have not been good at living in my body for most of my life, but something extraordinary happened that day – suddenly I was infused with a wild energy that sent me running from one end of the studio to the other, dodging other people, using the entire space. After all the years of living small, suddenly something was bursting out of me., and I was TAKING UP SPACE. I was finally pushing back against every experience that kept me silent and constrained. As we moved through the day, we went from movement to paint to reflective writing. Just now as I write this, I am not sure if this happened all in one day or over a weekend or over two separate weekends of Expressive Art classes, but sometime not too long after that experience with movement I created a painting that captured how I embodied the healing energy of it.
My reflections on the painting process (lifted straight out of my 2006 Ex Art journal with minimal edits) capture the essence of what happened –
My painting process…..began with slashing and lots of lines and angles. I chose colors that I like red, purple, black. But had to choose white to soften and blend…couldn’t just keep it to three colors. White is the bridge, brings out the subtleties and possibilities of each color, makes lavender and pink and grey and all shades in between possible. Just like my life, so much less black & white as I age – the grey areas have expanded to fill almost the whole canvas of my life…. When I was painting, two hours went by like ten minutes. I fell into the work. I was consumed with color and form, laying color on top of color, and at first my movements were large and jerky – great slashes of color across the paper. Lots of jagged edges. Lots of black and red reflecting the energy that surfaced during the movement…
It felt liberating. It was the fighting back piece. It was wanting to put it all down honestly and clearly and in vivid color… Layers and layers of paint, layers and layers of experience. The paint supports the visceral KNOWING I carry (and the bright red of arterial blood that WAS NOT SPILLED that day)…. NO blood spilled, despite the threats, and yet I walked around hemorrhaging energy for decades after the rape. This current period of my life where I am finally allowing my creative self to emerge is taking the healing process to a new level… Back to the painting. The painting. I was completely absorbed in color and form. This THINKING stuff wasn’t happening – for once I allowed my eyes and hands to speak for my heart and to do what they wanted to do with the materials I had in front of me.
The color and feel and smell of the paint pulled me in and held me tight. When I became aware of the red tissue paper I knew I had to put that in the mix and my fingers liked the way it melted into the paint and how I could form and shape it on the paper. I like looking at those parts of the painting now they give it depth. The part of the painting that I keep coming back to is the red shape growing out of the bottom. It looks like a plant made of flame reaching up into the center. Some of the red and white tissue paper makes wings coming up out of the bottom of the painting…
Just now it came to me that this is what I carry and it is vibrant, alive, evolving, colorful and no matter what events, people, relationships, responsibilities are part of my life, this energy is always there too. a resource and a refuge.
Since the process is a month behind me, I keep mixing up process and product but I think I am learning from both. The product is static, the process dynamic, and it continues. The painting is a snapshot, an “energy portrait” of me at that moment in time. It stands for the moment but like every cell in the body it contains a map of my “spirit-DNA”. I honor that. I am grateful for this knowing.
~ (Excerpt from “Expressive Arts and Trauma”– my final paper for the 3 Year Expressive Arts Certificate Program, June 2006, reflection on the painting experience.)
And now, with my chapbook, After, I am making this process public. The poems began coming in 1997, almost 30 years after the events that sparked them. They keep coming as I move through my life, and as I continue to learn and grow and heal. I hope this poetic account of my journey through trauma to healing captures how wounds can be transformed to light. I want my story to empower others to tell their stories and to engage in the work of healing. (And after nearly 17 years sober, I need to add here that ART and POETRY are what keep me sane and sober.)
If each day falls
inside each night,
there exists a well
where clarity is imprisoned.
We need to sit on the rim
of the well of darkness
and fish for fallen light
with patience.
~ Pablo Neruda
Judith I have been meaning to write and say how much I am enjoying your blogs! It seems like each one arrives when I NEED to see it and they have been very healing! I saw this one and said I have to make time to write and tell you how much they touch my heart ! Look forward to your new book!xo
Love this painting and I find your writing inspirational and flowing. Your healing is quite remarkable and you should be proud of how you have chosen to make it a living thing in your daily life.
Dear Judy,
I am so sorry that you had to go through this painful experience and it is determined to stay with you forever.
I really like the colors and swirls in your painting. Ironically I find it to be warm.
You are admired and loved.
Jean