I’ve been very fortunate to approach art-making from a place of emotional expression rather than technical skill. As a young person, I had stopped making art for years because of the pressure to make something that is “good”. It wasn’t until working in early childhood education that I relearned my love of freely expressing: a love for crying and splattering paint, a love for punching holes in giant pieces of paper, a love for making something that actually reflects me. I am a person who is messy and in constant existential crisis (it’s not just for teenagers!!) and I think my art accurately reflects that as I am constantly wrestling with trying to communicate who I am, who I was, and who I may be. Explaining myself through art is the most enjoyable losing battle I have ever been a part of.
My experiences with therapeutic art making and the wonders of play have led me to where I am today (as I type this out last minute on my computer): someone who feels incredibly congruent with their work. I get to spend my working hours with some of the most wonderful kids under our big, bright sun and I couldn’t be more thankful for that.
A Hundred Faces: The Costume Workshop
One of the most difficult things about becoming a therapist is remembering how to be a human being when you are no longer being a therapist.
The versions of ourselves that we switch between - the things we become in the face of great strife and great joy, in mundanity, in disaster, in intimacy, in strangeness - protect us, destroy us, enhance us and diminish us. I’ve never worn more faces than I do now.
“When the music changes, so does the dance.”
(A West African proverb to interpret as you wish)
Video, mixed media (so many feathers)