My Body is a Mason Jar

Being an artist while being in grad school is challenging. Art therapy students are expected to be empathetic and efficient. Accessible and analytical. Professional and playful. We must do this while we spend every day educating ourselves on how to combat the darkest aspects of human existence using creative energy.

Art therapy students are just that: students. We are students who are in therapy. We are role playing client and patient in rapid cycles. We are learning and making mistakes. We are holding down multiple jobs. We are in unpaid internships. We are friends and daughters/sons and sisters/brothers. We are in relationships. Some of us have children or additional caregiver responsibilities. We are tired. We are passionate. We are driven.

I used to wake up and think I want to make a piece that makes a statement. Because that’s what art is for for me. I make art to have a voice. It is a visible record of my thought processes. It is a physical manifestation of my imagination, passions and obsessions. I make art to show what is meaningful to me. I make art to connect to other people.

“I wish for a heart you can see straight through,
For a voice that glows in the dark
And a few really good friends to skip moon rocks to.”

— Andrea Gibson, "Jellyfish"

I have made art to deal with loss and get through the grieving process. I’ve made art to criticize the way society makes me feel about my body and how it should look. I’ve made art about identity, sexual assault, social media and gun violence. I’ve made art for assignments and for thematic exploration. Hell... I’ve made art about art.

I used to think art was the only way people would be interested in me. I used to hope that my artwork could get someone to understand me. Art (and design) became a way for me to tell a story. Perhaps even my story.

But lately I do not make art. I make jellyfish. I make patterns and visual study guides. I work in abstractions and geometric forms. I do this not because I have lost my voice, but because I am focused on helping other people find theirs.

Linocuts, 2019

Art therapy students end up making artwork that soothes us or is generally pleasing and approachable. The creative process becomes a method of self-care. This is mostly because we are so surrounded by turmoil and trauma that we cannot bear the thought of making work that contributes more negativity to our society. 

We could easily make something about the alarming statistics of suicide or child abuse. We could most definitely draw displays of the battles of PTSD in military populations, or the issues that people with disabilities face. We could paint personality disorders or sculpt schizophrenia. We could create an instillation that showcases the benefits of art therapy on almost any population. We could also create pieces that expose big pharma for the piece of shit that it is. How our education system is crumbling and in need of restructuring. How our society focuses more on an idea of pseudo perfection and happiness in all aspects of our lives than on process, development and experience.

But we make jellyfish.

Art therapy students work in symbols that we can pocket for private reflection. We fight against the recognition of “warning signs” in our own work. We have to try harder to reach levels of deep, unconscious creation because we are now too aware of the assessments and analysis of artwork to approach it in an animalistic fashion. We need to make work that reminds us that we are human. We need to make work to escape reality.

So we make jellyfish. Graceful, transparent entities that can exist in deep, high pressure places. Beings that can change and float and succumb to the surrounding waters. Creatures that can sting while dancing. Creatures that can turn on a light in the darkest places.

Three-Fold Manifestation II

I have gone on record saying that Storm King Art Center is one of my favorite places in the entire world. Since the moment I stepped on the 500 acre sculpture park, I was in love. It is the place I always want to share with the people I love. It is the place I go to when I need a break from society, stress and socialization. It is a place I go to when I need to talk to people who are no longer here. It is my place of peace. It is my sanctuary for my spirituality.

Photographs taken at Storm King Art Center in June of 2018

I first saw Alice Ayecock’s Three-Fold Manifestation II in the fall of 2015. It is located on a hill in the North Woods section of the grounds. I perceive it as a multi-tiered, floating, white, abstracted, grand amphitheater supported by side stilts. Like many sculptures, its façade changes with the time of day because the sun creates so many different shadows across the surface. Many of Ayecock’s sculptures emit a certain kind of energy that I find grounding yet invigorating, and every time I visit Storm King, I manage to take different photographs of it.

I found carving linoleum to be an incredibly soothing and almost meditative experience. I will definitely be continuing it in the future. I also plan on working larger now that I have gotten the hang of the necessary tools.

Imagination is Absolutely Critical

Midterms happened… so I fell off the face of the Earth. I haven’t posted in a month. To be honest, I knew it would happen. So I’ll summarize major happenings (again):

Art Therapy History and Philosophy had an exam that covered 70 years of history. The next few weeks were followed by group presentations on chosen psychological approaches in mental health treatment applied to a particular population. Groups presented on topics such as OCD, trauma resulting from physical and/or sexual abuse, Alzheimer’s (our group presented an art therapy directive with this population utilizing a humanistic approach), eating disorders and addiction utilizing various humanistic approaches or CBT treatments. Most of them were pretty interesting. My main positive I am taking from it is that it allowed us all to get to know classmates work ethics, experience, and verbal and visual presentation skills. Nothing says “this peer has been skating by” like watching them flounder in front of the entire class or overhearing their teammates bitch in the parking lot about “how lazy/clueless/awful she is”.

“ Everyone talks about how competitive men are… but I can argue they’ve got nothing on twenty something year old females clambering for a masters.”

Sidenote: Everyone talks about how competitive men are… but I can argue they’ve got nothing on twenty something year old females clambering for a masters. The social dynamics here are not my cup of tea and I am tempted every day to become a recluse. A lot of emotions and personal shit gets brought into therapy courses. I also want to admit that I am as competitive as they come. I did not quit my full time job, add 60K to my debt and give up time with friends and family to deal with lazy peers that can’t even pay attention for half an hour. If you have made it to your twenties and still expect your professors to tell you exactly what is on the exam and then still throw a fit when you get a B, I promise that the real world will be very tough for you. Also, I am not the person that is going to baby you. Get your shit together.

In my eyes, group projects, especially when you are assigned to a group, are never fun. I have a difficult time trusting other group members to put in the effort that I do, especially when I don’t know those members on a personal level. Regardless, I survived it and am still praying to the Grad School Gods that I/we get an A. Both the project and the exam (well… what happened when we got the exam back anyways) were both “I’m surprised this is happening in a graduate school setting” moment, due to the fact that the professor gave us all a curve. You read that right. Graduate school students were given a curve on a test. Upon hearing other students use words such as “nice”and “lucky” I rolled my eyes. Yet again the people who don’t prepare are being thrown some pity points. I never understood the point of curves if it means students are getting over 100%, but I guess I shouldn’t complain since 1. their test grades don’t effect mine and 2. it benefits me.

“Imagination is absolutely critical to the quality of our lives. Our imagination enables us to leave our routine everyday existence by fantasizing about travel, food, sex, falling in love, or having the last word—all the things that make life interesting. Imagination gives us the opportunity to envision new possibilities—it is an essential launchpad for making our hopes come true. It fires our creativity, relieves our boredom, alleviates our pain, enhances our pleasure, and enriches our most intimate relationships.”

— Bessel Van Der Kolk, M.D.

EDC class had a weird, falling apart at the seams stretch. We had class cancelled because the professor had a home emergency (gas leak). Then the following week about a third of the class apparently forgot how to read a syllabus and simultaneously decided they had no idea what was going on. This lead to a bunch of rapid fire questions at our professor about due dates and assignment requirements. It also lead to embarrassment, frustration and anxiety because the class as a whole sounded like a bunch of immature high school wanderers that just happened to sit down in a graduate level course. There was bad mojo coming off of every single person in that room. I think if the professor wasn’t so experienced in dealing with literal psychotic people, he would have lost his mind that night. Nevertheless, the following week was much more calm, and he began class stating he “burned sage” throughout the room before anyone else got there. Let’s hope this improves.

As for Art Therapy Theories, Object Relations Theory is… complicated. It’s very applicable to certain populations and I have learned a lot about it, but this unit of study was stressful for me.  I had a difficult time understanding this material. We had an exam that I left feeling like I ran a 5K (the kind where Michael Scott ate fetticini alfredo beforehand). I was sick and shaking and sweaty and exhausted. Let’s just say I didn’t ace that one.

We also had to make sculptures based out of a material of our choosing depicting “mother and child” (most people chose to do a ceramic sculpture). I ended up choosing paper because I feel it’s delicate yet strong characteristics are similar to that of a mother and her child’s relationship. Whenever I hear “mother and child” I think of Madonna and Child and the countless of representations throughout art history, particularly in painting. To get away from that, I went a more abstract route. The mother envelops the child, providing comfort, warmth and guidance as she grows. There are moments in the sculpture where the smaller figure exists within its own space, unsupported by the larger forms and creating its own structure. Eventually, the smaller part of the sculpture will be able to stand as its own piece.

Be Humble. Be Kind.

I admit I am too busy and tired (and angry at political events) to write a cohesive post right now. In the interest of documentation, here are the major events that happened in grad school this week:

1.      My counseling professor gave a lecture on nonverbal communication and closed/ leading questions. Apparently asking “why” is not a recommended question because it comes across as either judgmental or aggressive/accusatory… I may have to revisit this in its own post because I am still processing it. It goes against my intuition to not ask “why” as in “Why do you feel that way” or “Why does that bother you?” Writing about it may add some clarity.

2.      We began a group project this week for our History and Philosophies of Art Therapy class. It was yet another experience where I was reminded how far behind I am compared to my peers. For example, writing up “protocols” for therapy sessions. What the F*** is a protocol? I know what the definition of protocol is. But in this context… someone please explain. (The professor did explain. She was shocked a few of us did not know what it was... but she did explain it and provided an example.)

3.      I had my first exam this week. The pre-test chatter from classmates ended up stressing me out more than the actual exam did. I will not be repeating the “let’s come early and study together” plan. All it did was confirm that I am an introvert and that I retain information best when I can see it. Multiple people kept staring at and commenting about my oversized study sheet. I figured that would happen, but me retaining information for an exam is more important that people’s judgment. I should have stayed in the car and remained focused. Oh well. I think I did okay on it, regardless.

4.      Printmaking class is in full swing. We are prepping for our first critique and have to complete a “class project” with enough editions (copies) of a print for everyone in the class. The “theme” of the project that the majority of the class agreed on is “songs”.  To me, “songs” is not a theme so much as an enormously broad topic... but whatever. I have to think about what I want to do for that. The only thing I am certain of right now is if anyone in my class hands me a print or an etching entitled “Post Malone” I am burning it on the spot.

5.      I got hired as a Graduate Assistant. I get paid minimum wage by Long Island University to help out the office of the Art Therapy Graduate Program. It’s only one day a week but it keeps me involved in my school and I get to help maintain and build a program I am a part of, since my job responsibilities are mostly admissions related.

“People are denying even the most basic scientific facts because it makes them feel better about hurting each other. Do you realize how horrifying that is? We’re talking about human beings making a conscious effort, going out of their way, to be ignorant. Willfully stupid. They’re proud of it. They take pride in idiocy. There’s not even an attempt to rationalize things anymore.”

— Only Human (Themis Files, Book 3) by Sylvain Neuvel

Moore

For whatever reason, Henry Moore inspired imagery has been bubbling to the surface in all my work for the last week. It happened with chalk pastels, charcoal and a zinc drypoint etching. So I wanted to explore the significance of this artist further.

I was introduced to Henry Moore because of a homework assignment for my Drawing 3 class. We were asked to research an artist we didn’t know, and then we would emulate his/her work in class. Our professor for this class was artist Ken Ragsdale. His work is fantastic and his teaching follows the same standard. He made a statement in the beginning of the year about how artists possess a certain sense of insecurity, and they devote their entire lives to finding how to express their voice through their artwork. I thought about that idea on my walk from the studio to my dorm room and ended up walking right past it and onto the main campus.

“Great art… invites us to think not about its author and his experiences, but about our own experiences and ourselves.”

— Kramer and Ulman, 1977

I ended up browsing through forgotten oversized art books in the back of the Neil Hellman Library. I found one entitled Henry Moore: Drawings by Kenneth Clark published by Harper and Row in 1974. I still remember how the book smelled. How I hated the typography on the spine. How that spine cracked like a literary firecracker while the oil of my fingertips mixed with the film of dust on the jacket. How my knees stiffened and my quads tightened after a few minutes of remaining in a squatting position as I soaked up image after image. Once I finished flipping through all 326 pages of that book once, I never looked at drawing the same. It was love at first sight. I took him back to my place. I treated him really well. I choose “119”, one of the “Standing Figures” sketches from 1940, to complete in class.

A few weeks later, we had to break up because he had to go back home. Apparently, if you don’t return college library books, you have to pay for it or they withhold your diploma and you cannot walk at graduation. We parted ways. Six years later, I found that book while browsing a bookstore in Portland, Maine. It was one of those serendipitous moments that makes your entire day. I purchased it immediately.

What hit me right away was that even though Henry Moore was known for his sculpture work, this book contained 264 images of only sketches and drawings, which Clark separated into ten different sections based on subject matter. Moore’s sculptures are smooth and grounded, with harmonious, beautiful curves. In contrast, his drawings are dark, aggressive, hatched and full of a haunting energy. You can tell he has a sculptural aesthetic by how much depth and dimension his figures have even in sketch form. His drawings explore form in a way I had not seen before then. I admired how many different ways Moore depicts a figure with just line and shading. Rather than aim for precision, he embraces mark making and the media used for these surreal, hollowed, anomalous bodies.

Clark directly states in the Preface, “I have avoided deep psychological explanations, partly because I am not qualified to make them, partly because Moore himself dislikes them” (Clark, 1974). I am not going to analyze Moore’s sketches. I too am not (yet) qualified, nor am I with him to ask him to interpret his own artwork, which is very important when engaging in art therapy. Art created is owned by the client only. However, Moore’s dislike for psychological interpretations could be viewed as resistance toward what is undeniably difficult subject matter. I learned that the work I was specifically drawn to is of figures hiding in London Underground shelters during World War II, where Moore was recruited as an official war artist and experienced multiple bombings.

The speed at which Moore’s artwork resonated with me echoes an idea by Edith Kramer and Elinor Ulman (two important contributors to the field of art therapy), “Great art… invites us to think not about its author and his experiences, but about our own experiences and ourselves.” (Kramer and Ulman, 1977). I connected to his work, regardless of the fact that I do not share many experiences with him. I actually find Moore’s work, despite his statements, to be very psychological. His figure drawing makes you want to explore inside the person while also allowing you to see right through certain carved out areas of the form. He often positions multiple figures together, creating small groups or crowds. Even though facial features are not expressed, you feel as if they are conversing nonverbally with each other. There is so much connection and movement within each piece, even though the figures themselves appear stationary. I see the forms as physical representations of the ego’s defense mechanisms. It’s almost as if what is happening in their minds is manifesting itself physically. There are very little appearances of legs and feet. Rather, these limbs have smoothed over like an irritant covered in the nacre of an oyster.

“The violent quarrel between the abstractionists and the surrealists seems to me quite unnecessary. All good art has contained both abstract and surrealist elements, just as it has contained both classical and romantic elements - order and surprise, intellect and imagination, conscious and unconscious.”

— Henry Moore

Duty to Warn

EDC 601: Clinical Mental Health Counseling is terrifying. And intense. And a little disheartening. Every Monday night, I get to hear firsthand stories from my professor about the ugly, horrific, unjust bullshit that happens to psychiatrists, counselors, therapists, etc and/or to the mentally ill. But the lectures are invaluable to my education, so I shake off these very concerning, real issues I will be facing soon with all the naivety and hope I can muster. After all, this is real advice from real counselors in real situations.

I am learning that arguably one of the biggest difficulties in this field is inconsistency in laws from state to state. We are learning how imperative it is to be aware of the laws and ethical codes within the state we end up practicing in, because they vary greatly. The state in which you get your education, degree and certification from does not necessarily carry over from state to state. Being licensed in New York does not mean you can simply transfer that license over if you move to somewhere else in the U.S. Also, laws that cover you in New York State do not exist in others.

Believe it or not, not all governments are ethical. *Gasp* Therefore, sometimes laws and ethical codes do not align with one another (this is true throughout history, but let’s just talk state to state mental health counseling laws). One such current instance is “duty to warn” verses confidentiality between a patient and his/her doctor, therapist, counselor, etc. Basically, duty to warn is a legal obligation (in only SOME states apparently) to take reasonable action to help protect innocent people from becoming victims of serious, potential harm if one becomes privy to that information from the patient/client. It’s one of the only instances where the whole “confidentiality” thing may be overridden. To me this is both common sense and good intention; if a patient/client has openly stated they are going to harm/kill people or themselves, I should report that to the proper authorities. But guess what, everybody: if a therapist chooses to do that very (seemingly) acceptable response in the wrong state, they can be sued and potentially lose their license for breaching confidentiality.

In interest of not seeming one sided, I will say that it’s a goal and priority to establish a safe space with clients. It is why confidentiality laws exist in the mental health profession. If clients feel they are restricted or with an untrustworthy counselor, they won’t discuss their thoughts and feelings and therefore cannot thoroughly address their problems. This is where the disagreement with “duty to warn” is coming from. Again, it’s rooted in good intention.

For an example of when all state laws not being consistent is a huge problem (and utter bullshit), I will use the story I heard this evening:

A patient at a hospital in West Virginia who was presenting as suicidal stated in a session with his counselor that when he gets released, he may take a semi-automatic rifle and shoot into a crowd of people at an upcoming high school football game with the plan of dying by police shooting. This was documented by my professor and reported to the necessary personnel, upon which the patient was arrested on the day of his release from the hospital. Under the “duty to warn” law (in states like New York) it is mandatory to bring something like this to the attention of the hospital supervisors and the authorities. Unfortunately… my professor was not in New York. And a shit storm ensued.

“This person was in jail for nine months until his trial, which resulted in him being acquitted. He and his attorney then turned right around and sued the hospital and his counselors for releasing confidential information. And he won. One million dollars.”

My professor himself was sued for $500,000 of that one million. He was simply being an ethical human being and tried to keep a lot of people from potentially becoming victims of a mass shooting. He had to appear in court and pay that 500,000 because the court ruled in favor of confidentiality over potential harm to others. He went on record to say that if he knew the outcome of the trial, he wouldn’t do anything differently. And I get it. If he were to have ignored those statements and not reported it, it is possible that the shooting could have happened. We can’t definitively say. But what I can say is this:

1. Malpractice insurance is important AF.

2. Intent matters ZERO percent in therapeutic relationships and court cases.

3. Know. State. Laws.

4. Being an ethical human being in face of the law is more difficult in West Virginia, Alaska, Connecticut, Rhode Island, Washington D.C., South Carolina, North Carolina, Georgia, Florida, Texas, Oklahoma, Kansas, Arkansas, Nevada, Maine, Mississippi, North Dakota, South Dakota, Oregon, New Mexico, Wyoming and Hawaii.

5. Apparently confidentially is the golden rule in Nevada, Georgia, Maine, North Carolina, and North Dakota. If you breach confidentially for sake of the greater good, you can be taken to the cleaners. “No duty to protect or warn” is stamped all over those lands.

Create a New Reality

I think everyone can agree that graduate school requires a lot of work outside of class. For me, this is not so different than undergrad since The College of Saint Rose kicked my ass (Seriously though. A shout out to every professor I had there. You all prepared me for this shit. Gold stars all around. And some whiskey. Cheers.) 

Although I believe I can handle the workload, I am already feeling a bit of pressure in terms of balancing school and personal life. My weeknights are completely booked and my days are all freelance design gigs to pay bills and making artwork for class discussions and studying and reading, reading, reading. Oh and writing papers. And observing therapy sessions and mental health events. And reading. Did I mention reading? There’s quite a bit of reading. Also not a surprise... But I just need to emphasize that even though I love to read… there is a LOT of reading. Based on my history, I’m only a few weeks away from sweatpants, no bra, and a caffeine IV drip. Which is cool because that means this hellish summer weather will be gone and I am officially too busy to give a f*** what anyone is thinking. Cheers (again) to the elimination of social anxiety in my quest for a master’s degree.

So now we are two shots deep. I wish this were true in some of my classes, simply because I’d be less guarded. Most class sessions involve everyone basically being in therapy together because all of your professors are psychiatrists, therapists or counselors, and all of the artwork you make has everyone discussing your issues, dreams and feelings. Sometimes a red line is just a red line, folks (Freud would disagree. Hey! I learned something already).

I don’t think it’s weird that I get a bit defensive when people I have never spoken to want to discuss and analyze a dream I’ve had (background information: we had to draw our dreams for our Wednesday night class. I chose one where I am with all my siblings and we are in some type of dungeon in a castle and we cannot escape. I had it many times growing up and it’s still pretty vivid. We had wonderful childhoods. No need to call authorities). Sometimes it’s an emotional, deep, dark, savage hole up there, ladies and gentlemen. This introvert only has so much capacity for smiling, pleasantries and small talk.

Apart from the forced socialization and unwanted discussion of personal thoughts, grad school is fantastic. It’s fast-paced, intense, compelling and inspiring. I find myself consistently making connections to things in my past. Every day, it’s like the next bulb in a string of lights has been repaired. It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas.

For example, in chapter 4 of The Handbook of Art Therapy there is a quote from Melanie Klein, “‘the artist’s aim is always, even if he is not quite aware of it himself, to create a new reality. It is this capacity to create and impose on us the conviction of a new reality that is, to me, the essence of art.’” This idea came before John Fowles wrote The French Lieutenant’s Woman or Ray Bradbury wrote Fahrenheit 451 (but not before Mary Shelley wrote Frankenstein). This idea I’ve always been drawn to, this theme of creation and independence from the creator that comes up again and again in novels, is also true in art therapy and art movements and psychology.

“Everyone must leave something behind when he dies, my grandfather said. A child or a book or a painting or a house or a wall built or a pair of shoes made. Or a garden planted. Something your hand touched some way so your soul has somewhere to go when you die, and when people look at that tree or that flower you planted, you’re there.”

— Ray Bradbury, Fahrenheit 451

For some reason, writing (an art form) is seen as credible, intelligent and academic. Drawings, paintings and sculptures… not so much. I will save my rant about how badly our education system needs restructuring for a separate post, but be warned: it’s going to be angry and it’s going to be sad. However, it is essential to discuss this problem in order to understand why art therapy currently is where it is in American society, as well as why art therapy is beneficial to so many people battling with various mental health struggles.

It's a beautiful reciprocal arrangement

My first night of grad school consisted of 180 minutes in a course called Theories in Art Therapy and Counseling. There was the usual reviewing of the syllabus and an introductory presentation on the importance of understanding both concept and relevance of various psychological theories. 

What was different from any college experience I have ever had was a short art session in which we were asked to "draw an advertisement about yourself" for an introduction portion of the class. I think my social anxiety coupled with multiple insecurities (Real quick: 1. I have zero knowledge of art therapy; I have a BFA in Graphic Design. 2. I'm new to LIU Post. 75% of my classmates did their undergrad degree here and already have established friends and networks. 3. I haven't been a student in 7 years.) resulted in a missed opportunity to show people what matters to me. The word "advertisement" immediately sent me into my graphic designer mentality. Before I was consciously aware of what I was drawing, I had scribbled out 3 vertical rectangles on the left side of paper.

“ I have been a graphic designer for corporate communications agencies that pride themselves on helping our clients tell their story to the world. And I couldn’t even tell my own. I was, to borrow Holden Caulfield’s favorite term, a phony. And everyone was about to find out.”

Once I realized the shapes I was forming and what they reminded me of, I began to fill in the rectangles with important literary works that have shaped my life. The French Lieutenant's Woman obviously claimed some space (see Post 1: The World is an Organism) as did Bradbury's fantastic Fahrenheit 451. I added a geometric form with a succulent inside it, as well as a few other books. In the upper right corner I drew a corkboard with a few pinned photographs. 

We only had 15-20 minutes to do this. All I could think about for the first 30 seconds was How am I supposed to do this in 20 minutes!? Panic was brewing in my stomach. My hands were actually shaking. My next thought was What the hell am I supposed to say about myself? Social introductions are hard for me. Always have been. I've gotten by my entire life using sports teams as a way to break the ice and create some friendships. And now I was in a room full of talented artists who are very intelligent and observant and probably looking to pick apart everyone's work (okay this was the anxiety talking).

This nauseating wave of uncertainty and inadequacy was launching itself up my throat. I had this overwhelming fear of being scrutinized and judged. I hadn't drawn critically since my junior year of undergrad, and even then I wasn't that great. My drawing looked inexperienced, impersonal and boring. I have been a graphic designer for corporate communications agencies that pride themselves on helping our clients tell their story to the world. And I couldn't even tell my own. I was, to borrow Holden Caulfield's favorite term, a phony. And everyone was about to find out.

I can't say what my small group thought about me. I don't remember what I said about myself. I just remember observing glazed over faces and lack of interest. Everyone else in the group asked each other questions. They wanted to know more about each other. To be honest, I felt the same! I met a girl from Taiwan who came here specifically for this program because her country doesn't offer it. I met a guy from Ohio who loves photography and was taking school portraits to make ends meet. I met a girl who is a full-time art teacher at a local high school while also attending this program. It was a welcome distraction from my own worries. I was more interested in other people than I was in my own internal dilemmas. Next week, we will be broken out into different groups and get to meet more of our peers. Hopefully this time I can relax and produce a drawing that is more playful and open.

The World is an Organism

I'm starting grad school in three days.

There are a lot of reasons why I decided to go back to school after being "out of the game" for 8 years. In the interest of being succinct, I will just say that my personal and professional experiences over the past decade have allowed me to recognize that I do not feel fulfilled as a graphic designer. Moments of doubt eventually grew into entire days of uncertainty, until one evening on an overcrowded train heading home, it clicked: Lots of designers are using their talents to have a positive impact on society. I am not one of them. If I continue on this path, I am leaving the world exactly the same as how it was when I entered it. And that’s not what I want for myself or for the people I interact with.

One of my late professors and mentor, Karene Faul, said I had “the mind” for graphic design. I changed my major from Studio Art to Graphic Design mostly because of Karene’s feedback during her class. It was in the printmaking studio that I first explored psychological topics like PTSD, grief, eating disorders, gender identity and neurobiology. She quoted John Fowles in her course syllabus: 

““We wish to create worlds as real as, but other than the world that is. Or was. This is why we cannot plan. We know a world is an organism, not a machine. We also know that a genuinely created world must be independent of its creator; a planned world (a world that fully reveals its planning) is a dead world. It is only when our characters and events begin to disobey us that they begin to live.””

— John Fowles, The French Lieutenant's Woman

That quote stuck with me. She pulled it from The French Lieutenant’s Woman, a work of metafiction that champions storytelling and morality, while analyzing perspective and the impact that the past has on the present. It remained in the back of my mind throughout school. It hung on the walls of my desk space during my employment at an architecture firm, a corporate design agency, and a NYC studio on Wall Street. But no matter where I worked or what I accomplished, my work felt impersonal, artificial and conventional.

Graphic design has been invaluable to me. I still enjoy it on a fundamental level. It has allowed me to explore strategy, identity, conceptualization, teamwork and social media in a critical environment. Designers must be intuitive, detail-orientated, creative and communicative to successfully reach their audiences and/or gain the trust of their clients. The skills I acquired will only add to my abilities as a therapist. I feel like I am not going down a different path, I merely enjoyed a wonderful, scenic circle and am back to where I first set out. This “detour” also allowed me to meet some amazing people, some of which are now close friends that support me in this career shift. It’s changed how I look at my past and what I want in the future.

Because of this realization, I am choosing to utilize a blog format for this period of my life in order to keep track of all the moving pieces. Documentation allows for analysis and reflection, which I will need when I am tired, doubtful, stressed and vulnerable. The pressure of an audience also acts as reinforcement for me to record findings and feelings. I want my recollections to be honest and present, so I can grow in the most well-rounded way. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt this excited about something. I am looking forward to this new road I am traveling down.