This is my fragmented heart – a response to what I heard and saw and felt on Friday when I attended Edge Hill University Arts Centre event – The Role of the Arts, Arts Therapies, and Psychotherapies in Supporting Mental Health in Black and Allied Communities. The words around the heart are a quote from Andrea-May Oliver, which blew my mind:
“Ancestors, thank you for walking the path we wouldn’t dare to tread.”
And at the bottom is another quote from Samantha Adams, which forms the title of my piece: “Creativity is the First Medicine.”
As someone who experienced sexual, emotional and physical abuse in childhood and daily discriminations of sexism throughout life, I can attest to creativity as first medicine. When I was in the midst of a breakdown 11 years ago and I could not get the mental health help I needed, art was there. Without art I would have been in a dark hole for a long time.
I made a sculptural piece on canvas and wrote a poem on it. This is the poem:
I am not broken I don’t need to be fixed What I need is presence For my parts to be mixed
Trauma, any trauma regardless of the discrimination that caused it, can be healed with expression in safe arms. It’s hard to go there, to those places of pain, and it must be done gently, allowing the pain to bubble up rather than go seeking it. It’s so worth it. The more we do the inner work, the more we honour ourselves, our ancestors, the people we share this planet with and we can create heaven on earth if we can hear one another’s pain, have a conversation about it, a dance, a song, throw away what is no longer needed in the fire and create together. That’s what we’re here for. We are creative beings. Let’s create some magic!
Mr Yates, art teacher at Walton Girls’ High School, 1983
I’ve often wondered why I accepted Mr Yates’ statement as Truth when I was thirteen. I immediately stopped drawing and began a journal instead. I had a flash of insight yesterday whilst washing my hair (of all things): he’d stated I wasn’t good enough at identity level. “You’re not good enough.” It was like a magic spell. I believed him. I stopped.
This is my latest pigment pen drawing, Turning Over A New Leaf. My research into the phrase, “turning over a new leaf,” highlighted the assumption that often accompanies the intention to turn over a new leaf. Here’s a definition from Collins:
I feel so excited to share my new style of painting with you! Sunset Teardrop is an amalgamation of my non-verbal responses to childhood trauma and to the awe of sunsets. How strange that these two should come together in one painting. Or perhaps it’s not so strange…
This postcard is my response to the affect of Covid and Black Lives Matter on me. The collective trauma of Covid-19 sparked memories of personal childhood trauma, which I was able to hold and work through. When the Black Lives Matter movement swelled, I connected with it as a feminist. All of this broke my heart open, making space for a spiritual breakthrough.