In(the)Out

March 12, 2009

Beginning with the narrative of a self-portrait, this essay explores the theory of art therapy as an academic synthesis.

“An Artistic Revolution”

“La la la la la.  Here I am, look at me.  It’s okay, c’mon, you can smile along.  Yea, I am not really sure what’s there to laugh about either, but we can always find something.  Yup, life is never really giggle free.  There’s always a song to sing, a joke to hear, a pretty flower to smell.  More importantly though, what’s the good of all the beauty of life if you can’t even share it?  So c’mon, don’t be shy!  It’s easy, just sing along with me, hum or clap even, whatever makes you happy, because that’s what counts.  There you go!  I saw you crack that smile!  Was that so hard?  5, 6, 7, 8…here we go: la la la la la.  You’re a natural!  See life is just one big musical, so just sing along!  That’s my philosophy.  So just smile big, and dance hard, because ‘everything is coming up roses!’…”

            Looking at my self-portrait, which I drew quite literally in comparison to those of my peers, that is what I envision her saying.  Although she is just a smiling cartoon-ish face with a big, lopsided smile and purple hair, she has the bright eyes I recognize.  She has the bright eyes that I see stare back at me in the mirror each day.  In her eyes, I can see the silent show being played.  She dances, she sings, she smiles on the outside, but deeper in the space, behind that twinkle, lies a hurtful past: a family drama, she wants no role in.  But that could possibly be her chip, the chip on her shoulder that propels her bubbling sing-a-long attitude.  Looking at my self-portrait once more, I see the distance between us:  I am able to acknowledge the feelings of my cartoon self and relate them to my real self.  It is a space beyond the three-dimensions, though.  It allowed me to leap into my past, analyze my nature and characterize my future.  My portrait enabled a dialogue with myself to verbalize the in and outward dichotomy of my being, my outward optimism and dramatic past.  That exaggerated mouth, those violet strands, and those glittering eyes enlightened me.  They proved to me the didactic, yet wholly personal, realization of the power of art as a creative method of therapy.

            The monologue developed after creating my self-portrait, gave me the first glimpse into what art therapists have stressed as one of the critical aspects of the art piece.  Namely, the work serves to create a distance between the actual self and the projected being, culminating in a “tangible and lasting product,” as art therapist Cathy A. Malchiodi describes (19).  In my case, this separation was evident between my vulnerable self and the piece of art work, which was part of me, in the sense that it resembled me, but only me to the extent that I wanted it to be.  In other words, without my consent, it was just an empty product: eyes, hair and a smile that lacked a story.  It was this separation, this removal, which showed me how “art expression is thought to be a form of visual language through which people can express thoughts and feelings they cannot put into words…[and] a way to communicate experiences that are difficult to verbalize” (Malchiodi 17).  With myself acting as client and therapist, my portrait was able to prompt an inner discussion regarding the state of my own conscious, and the qualities of my personality.  These were subjects which otherwise would have been too difficult to express or even to personal to share.  By creating a sensory piece to project these feelings onto, I was able to assess my own self, for the art created, in the words of therapist Cathy Ward, a “significant other” for me (108).  The work itself allowed for that crucial therapeutic container, in which I felt safe enough to verbalize my deeply rooted emotions and opinions.  In this “holding environment,” I felt what it was like to be a client, and “[found] a voice for [my] creative self through art,” (Ward 104).  It was here also, that I understood the necessity of the trust and control (in the sense of predictability) the therapeutic area entails (Malchiodi 25).

            Once I found my “creative self” through the safe “voice” of the artistic language, I was ready to explore the depth and breadth of the art therapy realm (Ward 104).  This was facilitated through a “study and practice” of my own, quite literally (Ward 104).  Through an adoption of both the roles of client and therapist, along with attention to fundamental theory, I was able to explore and experience the benefits and struggles of art therapy firsthand.

            Following my first experience with my self-portrait, I felt the confidence to explore the deeper levels of the safety the art form created.   I exploited this characteristic “transitional object[ivity],” in hopes of understanding Winnicott’s view that “the value of art [is] as a transitional object and creative activity [which acts] as a reflection of thoughts, feelings, fantasies, and conflicts” (Malchiodi 17).  It was with this approach in mind that I viewed the art pieces that I had created earlier, taking on the role as the “client”.  The pieces were the personal result of the instructions to create separate depictions of a door, what was behind it, a bridge, and a volcano.  

            Before analyzing the products as a therapist might, however, the process centered on the client must be taken into account.  For therapy is a relationship, after all, both parts being just as equal and necessary to establish a relative “repairing” (Ward 105).  So, it was following the relatively nondirective, and “spontaneous” approach to the assignment, quite similar to the musical approach to improvisation, that materials were scattered on the floor, and myself and my peers, the clients, were instructed to create (Malchiodi 24).  Large, white pieces of paper were provided, on which we could experiment with crayons, markers, colored pencils, water-soluble pencils, oil pastels, watercolors, and modeling magic clay.  We were also given various accoutrements like brass fasteners, scissors and tape.  Our only direction was to use a different medium for each piece. 

            It was here that an unconscious consciousness began.  Rather, as art therapists know, it is in the particular media that a percentage of the analysis lies.  As Malchiodi explains, “art therapists generally develop treatment plans…based in part on the affective qualities of the art media…[in order to best] facilitate self expression, complement therapeutic goals, or address individual preferences” (20).  In fact, the medium used, its affective aspects, quality, the way in which it is used (conventionally or not) and the “central role [proximity] of the body in its relationship to [the] art media,” are all important in the art therapy session (Ward 111). 

Unknown to me at the time, what this meant for me as a client, was that the materials I chose to express my concept of a door, bridge and volcano, were just as reflective as what the picture actually looked like.  Ignorant of this, however, I took to the media at once.  In creating the prompts, I tried to vary the tools I used; yet ultimately I ended up mixing the media together.  For instance I, attached fasteners to my door to create a knob, and to my volcano to make stars.  I even layered oil pastels over the water colored shapes of what was in the door, clarifying their designs, as well as used the shavings from the colored pencils to create colorful, confetti like spews fuming from my volcano.  Although I attempted to use a variety, my general pattern was clear to me, even at the time of creation:  I stuck to more advanced media, where the distance between the page and myself was noticeable, but still controllable.  For instance, I was plainly averted to crayons and clay, ‘regressive media’ as therapists would call them, and stuck to tools that gave less hands-on interaction with the page, and arguably a more developed perspective with the work.  I even tried using the watercolors as finger-paints on the door, but quickly stopped at the frustration of it not being as manageable as I had thought it potentially would be.  My color scheme also struck me as I was drawing, for I found that I stuck to brighter, happier colors, rather than dull and dark ones.  This perhaps reflects the optimism in my nature, and could correlate with my view of myself as a happy, warm and lighthearted person, a thought which I never fully processed until I saw it visually.

One frustration I did come across as a client, however, was, upon the completion of each distinct piece, I grew more and more wary of my internal artist trying to come out, rather than my internal me.  I kept trying to “think outside the box,” trying to compete and impress.  I began to strive to make the most ‘artsy’ inner door I could.  Besides that, I was afraid of being wrong: “what would my volcano really say about me?  If it was erupting, would everyone think I am compulsive with pent up rage?”.  To these natural pitfalls, my only response as a therapist related my worries to a lack of safety in the relationship and environment.  To counteract this, perhaps simpler warm-ups, and a smaller crowd would be more beneficial.  After all, art therapy is based in the belief that “‘the creative process of art making is healing and life-enhancing,” and this ‘enhancement’ would be almost impossible if a ‘comfortable’ relationship is not provided for first (Malchiodi 18).

Despite the difficulties I faced as a client, I was still able to maturely separate those feelings as best I could, and view my work objectively, as an art therapist.  In this process it is key that no judgments or “interpretations” are made, but rather, as the humanistic approach entails, “it is…[the] careful attention to what the person is communicating, that is important” (Malchiodi 25).  The art allows the therapist to “actively and emphatically ‘see’” what the client is thinking (Malchiodi 25).  With these theories in mind, I turned to my drawings for insight into myself.  The drawing of the bridge in particular, prompted an interesting inner dialogue with myself.  As with all the other drawings, I constructed my bridge with bright colors taking up the whole page.  As I recalled when drawing it, I was hesitant at first to use the markers, because of their solid lines and the finality of their marks.  You can’t erase, shade or layer with felt tip markers.   This affective nature of the media alone, speaks volumes as I reflect on it as a therapist.  Although I was satisfied with my end result, my initial wariness could attest to my subconscious guilt, regarding a personal shyness from commitment.  Truly, very seldom do I finish a recreational activity to the end.  This fact was made manifest in the markers.  I did use them however, and was satisfied.  This also attests the use of the media as a catalyst toward “healing” and “change” (Ward 111).  It became clear, upon reflection, that I am able to complete things and commit to different, perhaps more permanent (life)styles.  Thus I experienced the magnifying power of the media to know and “‘see’” myself clearer (Malchiodi 25).

Beyond just the media, however, as a therapist, I found my depiction of the bridge interesting as well.  A bridge, a personal metaphor for connection and relations (between places or people), is usually seen as an arched structure over some obstacle.  Although I am usually a literal thinker, my ‘connector over trouble’, was abstract.  In fact, it was a vibrant rainbow of alternative colors, designed with patterns, with little hearts showering down from underneath.  What did my bridge mean to me, as me?  As a therapist, I could acknowledge these distinctions and thus suggest that my choice of colors and mode of representation might speak to my creativity and inner childishness.  The fact that I placed myself underneath the large ‘bridge’ in the heart shower, with a smiling teddy bear, could also speak to my love for youth, or perhaps an innocence I revel in.  Finally, the general happiness I feel as a viewer may also suggest that I, as the artist, am able to make relationships that are full of life and color as well, and my problems are never so severe that I am not only able to go over them, but under them as well, and dance in “the rain”, as it were, enjoying every moment of the good and bad times in my life.  And, although there has been an admitted “criticism about [the] reliability and validity” of projective drawing assessments, like this one, the analysis of them, from a therapist’s standpoint certainly did prove ‘valid’ and clear to me (Malchiodi 21).  Through engaging the art, and thus myself, from a distance, I was able to look objectively at the features I chose to express my conceptions; a process which, in turn, allowed me to “externalize [my] thoughts and feelings through visual images,” and understand myself better (Malchiodi 19).  This understanding, this “meaning” evoked by the media, as Ward calls it, let me experience the power of the artistic healing that is central to art therapy (113).

This “meaning” discussed by Ward, only reinforces the greater goals of art therapy, as I came to find out.  With the aide of specific tools as well as a safe, trusting environment, “the qualities and other attributes of the medium join forces with our own creative purposes to deliver a clearer healing message, and to mirror our sensory requirements more accurately” (112).  In other words, I, as a client and an individual, with my own particular needs and points for healing in that moment, turned to the media for initiating the process of ‘self-actualization’ and recognition.  As my experience proves, and as Ward concludes, “if we listen to [the] particular voices [of the media], the work we produce has a special quality to it…[which causes a] growing relationship…like the growing relationship with the therapist and promotes the entry into the widening sphere of the outside world,” (112).  Thus, the art form serves as a gateway to the world outside of oneself, opening the realm of the client into a shared world with the therapist in the art.  And it is in this shared, multihued and sunny world that I created as a client, and delved into as a therapist, that the transformations of “catharsis” and “meaning” can occur (Malchiodi 19; Ward 113).  Conclusively, my experiences with the art forms only backed the suggestion made by Ward regarding the ‘homeostatic’ nature of art therapy (112).  It was after the process of drawing, viewing, and then reliving my work, that a therapeutic ‘balanced’ healing began to take hold (Ward 112).

In conclusion, it is in this balanced realm that I was able to call forth and contain my unconscious personality onto the page, via the visual media, and put it on distanced display, encouraging a therapeutic dialogue between myself as both client and therapist.  This was done not only through the self-portrait, but also by creating projective drawings, and experimenting with other mediums, like clay, in other activities.  I was able to experience the collective unconscious that the artistic language can convey.  This, in turn, brought about a metaphysical change for me, which I can only academically associate with an intellectual development: an enlightenment highlighting the power of the art therapy world.  Finally, I found the artistic experience to be truly as Malchiodi states: “in therapy with adults, art expression serves as a form of nonverbal communication of feelings, thoughts and world views and provides an opportunity to explore problems, strengths, and possibilities for change,” (35).  In deed, the artwork created a separate language of communication in which I could better understand my past and myself.  The media allowed me to explore affectively and discover my repressions, patterns, and quirks.  In my brief exploration of this creative therapy, I learned of the vital relationship that will propel my studies forever: art has the power to change, and art therapy has the capability to revolutionize.

Works Cited

Malchiodi, Cathy A. “Art Therapy.” Expressive Therapies. Ed. Cathy A. Malchiodi. New York: The Guildford Press, 2005.

Ward, Cathy. “Shaping Connections: Hands-on Art Therapy.” Process In the Arts Therapies. pps.103-131.

—-Yasmin Ogale, March, 2009