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.”
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.