Art Therapy

Can we create wonderful when we are sad? Should we even try?

These are questions that I am contemplating today as I got the word that yet another close friend is dying. This will be the 4th month in a row when someone close to me has died. I have never experienced such a string before.

I've had experiences with death in my life--more than some, less than others. The first I remember was a horrible accident that took the lives of several acquaintances when I was a child. This string is different partly because they are all individual experiences, and all "natural".

This string started with the death of my father in April. I spoke to him on Wednesday afternoon. Less than 24 hours later I got a call from my mother than he was gone. "Gone? Gone where?", I thought. Did he go for a walk and get lost? It took a moment to sink in. He did not seem ill. He was pretty energetic and happy, at least in our visits. There was no car crash or other accident...he just died.

Then a neighbor died. I saw him one afternoon. He told me a joke (a very bad, dirty one, as was his standard!). The next morning I was with his widow at the hospital. He just died.

Then next month, a very talented artist I know died. Hers was not a sudden death, in that she had cancer and we knew it was coming. But hard to lose a beautiful spirit either way.

And now, another neighbor hovers on the edge. I am grateful that we recently spent an evening sharing a glass of wine and stories. I will miss his smile, the twinkle in his eyes, and the way he coveted my little sports car!

The reason I mention all this is that I have had difficulty in creating lately. So have the other women involved who are artists. How does one grieve and create at the same time? And should we even try?

While some may be moved to paint or sketch or pound away when grieving, I felt so numb and physically weak that it wasn't possible. The chisel weighed more--not to mention the hammer! I didn't want to imbue my work with the sadness that was in my heart.

When the deepest grief of my father's death passed, I found myself in the studio once more. At first the feelings that came up while I worked surprised me. They weren't of my dad or my friends who died. They were of anger at another "dead" friendship. Perhaps my psyche could be mad at her, but not at them. After all, they died, while she chose to poison our friendship. When I became aware of my feelings I made a conscious choice. I decided my sculptures deserved to be born in love, not anger. I chose to think of only the positive things in my life--my partner, my good friends and family (including those who have died), the beauty around me--and let go of everything else.

Likewise, my friend, the recent widow, went painting yesterday for the first time since the death of her husband of 32 years. Until then no cajoling could get her into the studio or out in the field. Yesterday, she too, made a conscious choice. She chose to be engaged in her life--and it felt good.

If you are an artist, or you have a friend who is one, and he or she suffers a loss, know that we don't all go immediately into our studio and enter a "Blue Period". Some of us have to work through our feelings internally. Yes, our art is a blessing to us and it is part of who we are and how we relate to the world. Yes, we will get back to it. Yes, we might need a little encouragement. And yes, it might take us a while to accept it. In the meantime, love us, hold us, and let us express our emotions in whatever way is the right one for us--it might surprise you the direction it will take us and you might see a side of us never displayed before.