My Creative Journey

My Creative Journey.

Humans have been making art since the dawn of time, 40,000 years plus to be exact. It is in our dna.  Throughout this time art has provided humans with an exciting way to visually express ourselves, to adorn our homes and our bodies to contemplate rough changes in life physically and spiritually. It has evolved into our rituals. Art has helped man to make some sense out of the unexpected, to know love, to know heartbreaks, the triumphs and trauma, and also make us think of what comes after this life on this planet. 

There were no crayons when I was a kid in 1940's in the small town I grew up in Kerala, at the southernmost tip of india; though it is now known as God's Own Country, one of the best sought after tourist spots in the world. but there was sand that was my sketch book, pebbles and chalky red stones were plenty to draw with, and my little fingers loved their gritty feel and texture. The pictures I drew were erased within hours by nature, by the wind, by the rain, or the footprints of my playmates. 

In school we had 45 minutes per week drawing lessons, that too during the very last hour on Fridays, when our attention was glued to the sound of the long ring of the school bell, to run home and enjoy the coming two days off. 

As a child I picked up chalk sticks and slate and made wreckless strokes, sometimes not even staying within the boundaries; but felt so good - in that moment I was not "me" ; not afraid of judgment. It was my nonverbal statement of "this is what I am",  but unfortunately I had to grow up and we get that Peter Pan syndrome as we get older.  We are told that the arts are worthless to pursue and there is no money in art as a career, and why don't you focus on something more worthwhile for a career? It was there my artistic passion died an untimely death. What you may call a divine talent was doused down before the spark could catch on to the wick. 

Eventually I finished my graduation, got married at 21 and had two kids by age 26. To my disappointment even my partner gave no support for my artistic aspirations, but the spark was still alive deep inside my soul. By age 36, luck was on my side and i got trained as a school teacher at a very good institution in Bombay (Mumbai).  It did immensely help me in polishing my writing skills and vocabulary, even though my main subjects were math and science. My additional subject  was English as a foreign language in India and I had excellent trainers, which helped me fill my head and heart with rich images of poetry. 

Though I  started my teaching career late, I was acclaimed as a fairly good one. relocating to Tanzania came as a blessing in 1977 and my youngest child was born in 1980. There my potential flourished until 1985, when I had to return to india. 

I was 45 and struggling with menopause, a series of tribulations set in. A suspected carcinogen lump in my left breast and subsequent desertion by my husband were like being caught between the blades of a smoothly running windmill. Physically as well as emotionally it was shattering. The windmills look picturesque only from far away! I lost my left breast, and along with that went my self-confidence, and almost lost my mental stability. 

Surprisingly, my angst ignited my creativity; the artist in me was awakened. I took up my pen and started writing as well as doodling. A few of my poems were published in major newspapers which boosted my morale greatly.  Best of all, I got a teaching position at an aircraft maintenance institute in chennai and my children were doing well in various professional disciplines in the same city. 

In 1998, at age 54, I switched my career to a totally new field, medical transcription. My written and spoken English improved greatly with day to day listening to (the good and the  bad and the ugly) dictations of doctors from all over the globe! Sometimes it was hilarious and at times it was frustrating to cope with accents. In 2012 I moved back to my home state, Kerala.

Realization slowly dawned on me that the arts are a powerful force in the human narrative in the world of healing. I became part of two hospitals' drive to spread awareness of cancer and other critical illnesses. It just happened that a few doctors were impressed by my writing and paintings and helped me hold art exhibitions. This helped me get in touch with many organization's and one such was Art Outreach Society, Kochi, which conducts art therapy workshops in schools and also at Ernakulam District Prison's juvenile and women's wings. This turned a new vista in my life and it really opened my eyes widely.

Art therapy is a newly evolved mental health field that uses the art making  process to help individuals or groups heal physically, mentally, and emotionally.  The power of any creative process does mirror life processes. The idea is that we can take metaphors and symbols and break them down and reframe our life into self expression when words become so inadequate and hard to communicate our feelings. For example, at the women's wing of the district prison, an illiterate woman I worked with, her fingers covered with acrylic paint whispered, " I drowned when my boat overturned in the storm!", or another inmate who has a master's in business administration painted an yellow mask with a satanic green grin, or when I  chanced upon 300 odd crayon drawings done by children in the pediatric cancer ward at Amrita Hospital and the radiologist who collected them said with his voice choking, "most of them are gone and will not draw pictures any more!" 

Some find newfound hope, like a teenage inmate of borstal school, the juvenile ward of Kakkanad District Prison painted a cake inside a hard shell and stated, " some think i am so tough, but i am soft and sweet like this cake right inside."

Combining the visual safe means of interpreting inward thoughts feelings that may not be so welcome in other disciplines; but  art therapists are there listening unconditionally. An art therapist is ideally someone who is trained in both art and psychology and has extensive insight into human development. Psychological theories, clinical practice, and deep knowledge of art history, and hope and belief in art's capabilities in healing are the desired best combination.

Psychology has only been around since the late 1800's, but art has been around forever. Art is so subjective and it is really hard to measure and put into a statistics framework, but various measurement tools have been formulated. A big misconception about art therapy is whether we can diagnose a painting of the client - can we dissect it like a frog and label the parts! A bold red circle is a clear indication of one's self-destructive tendencies and a jagged red line clearly emphasizes one's underdeveloped relationship with his/her father. 

Since art is so subjective, the image drawn can make sense of the client's inner feelings. Though they may feel hopeless and helpless, the therapist is there to listen and support. It gives the clients some sort of control over their lives. They are able to seek inwardly and talk about the hardships of life, about trauma. This brings that self-worth up in a fear-based society. Maybe as a 9-year-old he was told, "you're no longer good enough", which has left some residuals in him even after three or four decades. 

Creativity is scary, and it takes courage to create or combine a group to confess their truths, or what we happily call "the truth". 

When those women and young men spread a spectrum of colors on blank sheets of paper and make statements that they are being burdened  - like " with my parents divorcing, I can't get over my addiction and I am codependent. "

The pictures they draw or the images they create become tangible visible records of courage, of hope, and communication. It is tough and rough. hope does not fit in with the inmates of a prison awaiting sentencing. Sometimes something as simple as a pencil or pen is considered a contraband inside. At the district prison the therapists were not allowed to use anything sharp like a pair of scissors. All our mobile phones and handbags were to be deposited at the reception before entering the classroom. There were always police personnel present while we conducted workshops. Personal conversations were discouraged at all levels. A few inmates, mostly women, refused to participate in the activities and they were left alone as long as they did not interfere. 

Those women and juveniles I dealt with came hurting and aching, in need of some kind of stimuli. So we provided them with art materials and unconditional respect. Stories unfolded things that needed to come out. They tore up newspapers and magazine pages to make collages. Later some of them confided in me that whenever they could get hold of some paper, they used toothpaste as glue and tried to make collages. Need to express even in starkest situations - that is what creativity is - and that is what keeps people together. 

American psychologist, James Hillman said, " soul is the perspective of taking ordinary events and transforming them into meaningful experiences. "

So I often go back to my 5-year-old self and learn not to take myself seriously. I take up my pen, start to doodle, and create my own journey.

Sara Mammen Caleeckal