Mindfully Written

Amber Erickson: Denver Content Marketing Strategist & Freelance Health and Lifestyle Writer

Creative Arts as Therapy: The Making of a Gift

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A dear friend of mine recently married. I made them a card and it ended up to be an incredibly healing activity.

Some time ago, I decided that buying cards was silly since I could make them. I should add, I haven’t yet tapped into my creative potential and struggle with arts and crafts projects. But I decided making cards was a good way for me to be creative, while still having a purpose to keep me focused. My first cards were awful. Sometimes I’d laugh as I sent them because they were ridiculously childish, but handmade and made with love.

The fun part about making cards for people is the opportunity to truly make them unique and special for the recipient. For this particular wedding, I knew the couple, I knew some of the themes of the wedding and I felt inspired. As I made the card, I worked in silence and was able to reflect on their relationship and the stories I’d heard when they first met, started dating, got engaged and most recently, wedding planning and moving in together. I was able to think about my emotions and question any insights that arose. I worked and I thought and I worked some more. In the end, it was by far the best card I’ve ever made. It was pretty and legitimate looking. The whole card fit together and made sense. I was able to find fun materials that were representative of my friend, and used colors that were part of the wedding. It meant something to me. I’m not sure if it meant anything to them, if they even know it was handmade or if they thought it was well-made. None of that matters. I was proud to write in that card. I loved taking the time to reflect and write words that were meaningful to me. And most of all, I enjoyed taking the time to make something for a friend. I think the world needs a little more of that.

How Art is an Expression of Mindfulness

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The other night, my husband and I met at a coffee shop. He rode his bike there after work to meet me. I was there doing work I didn’t get done during the day. He asked if I’d bring his sketchpad.

That sketchpad has been around and seen its fair share of coffee shops and park benches.

While I was thinking about a blog topic, he opened the sketch pad. I, without so much of a warning, blurted out, “Why do you like drawing?” He laughed – that was a big question. Slowly, the answer emerged and I took notes, because it has a great tie-in to the themes of this blog.

For many of us, education and cultural value gives priority to science and math. The sciences are seemingly more important, and if you are good at them, you often get pigeon-holed into that category. The artsy students hang out in the art studios, the rest of us are science, math and language whizzes. They were separate. There is no art in the sciences. There is no science in art. But they don’t have to be separate – imagine what innovation and creativity comes when they work together.

The reason my wonderfully talented, intelligent and compassionate husband likes art is more subtle and deep than just the joy of creating something beautiful. It’s more of a spiritual practice, although he wouldn’t necessarily call it that. He uses art, primarily drawing – and almost always black or gray – as a way to develop the skill of “seeing” things and getting past the conceptual brain. Rather than looking at a tree and saying, “Oh that’s an ash,” you can learn to see the shape and the lighting and the colors and the form and the patterns and how it fits into the larger context of life. For him, it’s being able to get closer to objective truth of seeing what is really there rather than just the label of what we think is there. An ash isn’t just an ash. An ash is a lively form that sways erratically, yet rhythmically in the wind, with various shades of green and patterns of light and dark. It has movement, it has a whole world going on under its bark and in its roots – all hidden from us and not usually considered. There are probably birds and insects and other varmints running around and we don’t often stop to think about or see them.

When drawing, you can’t really just draw the concept of a tree. Well, you can, but then it just looks like an elementary Christmas tree of trunk with a round top (this, for reference, is how I draw). But this doesn’t capture the essence of that tree. It’s a generic representation of something. Truly SEEING the tree opens up all sorts of new ideas and allows you to practice seeing other things in life. Nothing is what we think it is from a first glance. There is always so much more depth and context and interconnectedness to explore and discover. Learning to see something enough to draw it (he usually draws trees) helps you learn to apply this principle throughout life. Much like meditation allows us to practice discernment of thoughts and not getting caught up in them, drawing helps practice awareness and seeing.

The beauty of drawing is that it isn’t about the outcome. Few people see the drawings, and most of them sit silently in sketchbooks. It’s not about them. They are just tools. They help the drawer to get past the labels and to explore a different way of looking at the world. They provide the training to help uncover the subtle beauty of life. They help him express himself better. I think they, and he, are beautiful and capture the essence of each other.