The Therapeutic Nature Of Art

Hi,

This is going to be my first (and hopefully not last) post on Vocal, and I wanted the topic be something which I can talk a lot about over a long period of time and over various posts, as there is so much I can say. I had a few ideas in mind, but I ended up settling on this : "The Therapeutic Nature Of Art". A bit weird sounding I know, but also very true. So, if you will, let me explain.

Let's go from the beginning. I have loved art from a young age, my Mum often drew, as did my older Brother. It's because of them that I wanted to take up the subject. Pre-School was purely two years of messy finger painting and gaudy colours, as expected of a toddlers work. All throughout Primary School I showed an interest in developing any artistic technique I could, wanting to prove to my family and my peers that I could do it, and whilst I was okay, I could always find faults in what I did or perhaps compare myself too harshly to others. That's where I would say a lot of my issues began but we'll get to that later.

Secondary School is next. The first two years I was there were probably what defined me up until I reached Sixth Form a few years later. At this particular Secondary School the first two years were a mish mash of all the subjects at once (just like in most English Secondary Schools), the end of Year 8 being the time when all the students would decide what they would like to do for three years. I remember being amazed at the size of the Art Facility there. As a relatively small Year 7 the prospect of having three large interconnected rooms to serve as an artistic paradise was far and beyond the cramped room of my Primary School, but with a large room comes a larger class of students. Now, I've always been a timid person, but to be surrounded by so many more people than I was used to was a struggle I didn't realise I was going to face. Going back to my Primary School, my class had only thirteen people in our Year, now compare this to the thirty odd ruckus of students which I would be in the same class as for most of my time there. It was a big change. And it effected me immensely. My shy nature grew into something darker and more difficult to deal with. Looking back at those years now, I am certain that it was the start of Secondary School which prompted me to develop anxiety, and later, depression.

Being surrounded by so many people for so many hours of the days caused me to go into a shell of sorts, and it showed in my art. At first I was confident but I slowly realised that as the class was much bigger I had to compete with many voices much louder than mine, so instead of making myself heard I opted for the easy way out to just stay quiet and in the background to the point where other people in my class either didn't know my name for a year or so, or just didn't even know I was in there. Being so nervous put a halt to any artistic dream that I once had, so when the end of Year 8 came around and it was time to choose my GCSE subjects, art was not one of mine.

Fast forwarding a couple of years to Year 12, I have now (thankfully) moved school. It was the same one my Brother went to actually, a previously all boys schools which was in my year now allowing girls to apply for the Sixth Form courses there. I was excited, I'd always loved the grandiose of this place, it had old fashioned buildings and a good reputation. I had a feeling that good things were going to come my way here as it would be a new start. A chance to make new friends, branch out and have new experiences. Like I said, my Brother went here too, one of his A-Level subjects being Art. This school, despite being more of a science oriented institution, held a fair amount of Art-Exhibitions of their student's work and as my Brother was a student, I could come and view it too. It was so nice to see so many different styles and techniques and it really opened my eyes to what Art could truly be outside of the traditional aspect that was taught to me in Year 7 and 8. So when the opportunity arose for me to take Art, I knew I had to take it as I may never get this chance again.

It was one of the best decisions I have ever made.

Year 12 was full of ups and downs. The ups : I met new people and made meaningful connections, I got to experience new things, I was happy working to the demands of my teachers and the work never seemed to difficult. That is, until, we look at the downs : my anxiety and depression went into overdrive and I felt a lot of pain that I didn't know what to do with, I fell behind due to these feelings both in English and in Art and this anxiety made me start comparing my work to those around me once more.

It got really bad. I struggled a lot, maybe more than I should have and I lost a lot of hope for myself.

I was in a dark place.

That's why I am so thankful for two things in particular. 1 : My new friends helped me out of this ditch of emotions that I had dug for myself and essentially kept me going to the next school year. 2 : Art.

Given everything that happened in Year 12, I was worried that the allure of pursuing Art was gone, but in Year 13 it miraculously revived all thanks to one style. Line Art. It sounds simple, and in essence it is, it's art made up of lines. I found an artist who uses lines to create Mountainscapes and I just fell in love with it. So in love that I ended up trying to base my final piece on this style, only for Covid-19 to hit and stop any work from occurring. I never got around to doing the final piece but I kept with the style (as seen in the photo above) and I realised something about it and why I liked it so much.

It was helping me deal with my anxiety.

Each Line Art piece can take up to an hour to do, which is a long time considering that all the piece is comprised of is a bunch of lines, but the amount of time taken coupled with the repetitive nature of the lines stirred something in me. With each line I found myself losing myself in the work, each movement something I could control. I noticed that each line was completely and utterly distinctive in its own right, and I knew that I could never recreate any work I made in this style. To me each of the pieces I create is a fingerprint, all unique and all my own.

Fast forward to today. Rather than start University, I have taken the Year to do a Foundation Art Course at the same School that I attended Sixth Form at, and I have honestly never been happier. I have tried new styles, gone back to old ones and most importantly, I have worked on myself and by extension of that, my Line art style. My Foundation Art Course has almost come to a close, and I don't have a full idea of what I want to do next, but what I do know is that I won't stop doing the Art that I love.

Thank you for reading this, I know it was quite broad so I may actually do a part two, and whilst writing all of this I had an idea to post my pieces onto here and explain what their meaning is to me. I think it'll be fun and even though they have already been posted to my Art Instagram I've never actually gone into their meaning before :)

I hope I have entertained and perhaps maybe inspired you.

Wishing you the best,

Alice (delraes_does)