Where Words Fail, Art Speaks

I first discovered art therapy 20 years ago, as a client in rehab. In very early recovery from addiction, I felt like my life was in ruins, and I had little hope for the future. The weekly art therapy sessions, however, felt like a lifeline. There was something extraordinarily empowering about creating things that were new, tangible, and even beautiful, in amongst all the mess. Art therapy also offered me a space in which I could reflect on where I found myself. Letting my feelings flow onto the page in front of me, and then sitting back and gazing upon what had appeared was like having a conversation with myself. Since there were no words involved, there could be no right or wrong. I could verbally share about my work as much or as little as I wanted, and I didn’t need to worry about pleasing anyone or persuading anyone of anything. Using art helped me work things out, experiment and wonder. It felt very precious, and it helped me come into relationship with myself.

I am now an art therapist working in various settings, including a treatment centre, several primary schools, a refugee hotel, and PBH. For me, a key element of art therapy’s effectiveness lies in its active and experiential nature. I also find it remarkable how uniquely each client engages with the materials. To illustrate the breadth and depth of art therapy I’ve included a couple of brief vignettes.

One describes work made by a child who had been exposed to significant domestic violence by a highly abusive parent who had recently been removed from the home. Unbidden, the child made a perfectly round clay ball one week, which they left to harden till the following session. They then quietly smashed it to pieces, carefully extracted the largest chunk and threw it away, before rearranging the remaining pieces into another solid ball, which they glue-gunned together incredibly carefully, ensuring there were no gaps, all the time treating this new form as if it was the most precious object in the wo