Art is salve to the soul. Well maybe. Yet there is nothing like art to bring out those hidden unknowns about the person that creates the art. None of this is perfection, however, but means by which some important facet of a personality manages to make an entrance. Art thus seen is freeing and is enjoyable, but it has its darker sides when it is used for ulterior purposes. More on that later. In this article, art is being considered as a tool for understanding more about mental illness.
For that reason, art sessions are important parts of rehabilitation in mental hospitals and clinics everywhere. Much of its true value is probably lost on those in manic or extreme depressive states, but if they ever manage to get to the plateau of their healing where they can use these to learn about themselves, they will have discovered a great gift. That gift will be an understanding of themselves and a new evaluation based on truths rather than on outward appearances.
What are some of the tales it tells on its creator? Am I a perfectionist, fastidious, sloppy, have a hidden wit, talented or merely enjoying myself, understand the true nature of art, care too much about others say about me, have a good grasp of reality, am liable to space out at the most opportune moments leaving others wondering where I am, should I continue my art lessons or take up writing, gardening, or better still, housecleaning? The list could go on indefinitely and the answers will be subject to change as new insights and cognition develop.
Looking inward and getting glimpses of what's underneath one's own skull is good if not overdone. Life is to be lived in the world filled with others and our purpose is to learn who we are, what we are about, and how to help others along on their paths onward and upward. It is a tall order, but art makes the journey much easier.
What does the image above say about its author? First of all its says that I need to practice my art, it is not well done. But actually, I know why I did that particular piece of miniature art. It was to see if I could paint a road and sky. The two women are incidental -- or so I think -- since without them there would be a road no one walked on and going nowhere. I dabbled in art and still do ocassionally, but it is strictly a hobby. It is something that delights me. I ask nothing of it other than it allow me to be myself.
As a writer, I could of course make up a story about the picture. Yet, if it had been done by some one else, what would I say about it? I can't answer that because any answer I would give would be tied up with what I know about the small piece of art. That blocks the real message, if it has any. I could say a mother and daughter is quarreling and one is walking away in anger. And I probably would be right.
Just now as I am typing this, I am taken back to my childhood in the early forties and my mother and I are walking to town. The trip is about three miles in all, and it is a hot day, and we both are a bit cranky. We argue. Of course, I being bratty, said something that irritated her and I would not stop. We went on to the store, bought what we were going after, and afterward walked home. But I remember the incident clearly. It was a long tiring trip.
Now, I ask, did that incident have anything to do with the picture being painted? I don't know but it could have. Like most children, I grew up with a lot of guilt over some of the things I have said to my parents, especially my mother. Unfortunately,or fortunately, most children see mothers as one who will love them unconditionally no matter what they do or say.
But love changes or one is changed by it and it takes years before children grow into adults who will understand their parents did the best they could do, and they too lived with guilt over the things they had said that displeased their parents. That is why love is ongoing, and not back looking. What we learn about ourselves and what good is extracted, we hope will be passed on to our grandchildren.
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