Art Therapy Final Reflection Paper

Initially, when I was introduced to our art therapy course, I had a lot of misconceptions
about the practice. But through the readings and in-class artworks my views changed over the fifteen weeks I spent learning about, reading about, and practicing the discipline. The main surprise that came to me was how we were actually conducting the practice in real-time, in class. I expected there to be an insane amount of psychology papers that we’d have to do, tons of flashcards to be made throughout the semester, and an extremely heavy workload with it being a 400-level course. I was over the moon when I realized how many friends were in the course with me, and that we would be doing art therapy weekly. The way the course was set up really helped me with the amount of homework we had each week because I found it interesting and knew that we would have the opportunity to experience art therapy in class.

At first glance, I thought that art therapy was art that could be therapeutic; I vaguely
grasped at the idea that a therapist, or some sort of trained professional, would be involved in the process but hadn’t fully thought about what part they’d play for the patient. I thought that it was more of a non-formulaic, even fun process (not to say that it can’t be ‘fun’ in a therapeutic setting- art can be anything) and relationship because I never considered art to manifest a symbolic outlook when looking at it through a therapeutic lens. I didn’t think it was a structured process like talk-based therapies and that it would have adopted a more abstract outlook. Learning that it does both was an interesting learning curve. I first recognized this to be true when we read chapter three of Rubin’s book where she discusses the relationship between creativity and madness. But since then, I’ve also realized this as we have practiced art therapy each week, hands-on, in class. I never would have realized how my brain unfolded this idea over the last fifteen weeks if I hadn’t gotten the chance to write this, either.

I also didn’t consider the broad range in which art therapy could be used for outside of
people suffering from mental illness; people suffering from A.L.S., chronic pain, or other
physically limiting illnesses may use art therapy to help with their motor issues, which bleeds into a mental wellness aspect. During one of our classes I slowly discovered what could and couldn’t be used for different patients, which I hadn’t considered prior. I found this to be true during our felting activity, when people commented on how patients with a lot of pent-up rage could utilize the felting, but that people suffering from motor issues couldn’t. My view broadened and I realized how not every activity could be used for every patient. This didn’t just affect people suffering from motor issues, I learned that an art therapy like play therapy may not be suited for adults, but would work for children or teens. Or that slime may not be suited for someone with sensory issues, like a neurodivergent individual with Autism. Populations and their needs were another thing I found myself focusing in on with this lens; children and teens may prefer more hands-on or textile activities while older adults may prefer painting.

I also hadn’t considered the process of making art to be as significant as the final product
that the patient creates. However, engaging in the creative process allows individuals to focus on their self-awareness, rather than solely on achieving a particular outcome or aesthetic. Learning this led me to a better understanding that the process of making art is just as important as the final result. Chapter four from Rubin’s book, when we were asked more directly about the nuances of an art therapists’ role and relationship, also helped me understand how creation is unique to art therapy.

Keeping a visual journal and being able to revisit and rework pieces that I kept track of
over the semester (specifically the zine I made by the end) was extremely helpful. In my growth as a person, I got to see all the places my brain reached for as I nurtured it through the creativity that in-class and out-of-class artworks let me channel my emotions through. The visual journal really helped because I got to write down what I was thinking while I was making the pieces, too. It’s proof that seeing the process of making artwork, reflecting on it, and growing from it works just as well as talk-based C.B.T. does. It reframes your brain to more positive directions, and the catharsis that art brings through formulaic abstractness is an inherently positive thing.

I know that I’ll be using art therapy in the future because it’s been the backbone of who I
am for as long as my trauma has tried to claim that title. I have been writing and reading poetry, going out of my way to connect with other artistic individuals, and practicing different forms of art since I could walk. A constant in my life has been my ability to flourish and maintain a connection with art- I couldn’t see myself without it. The world would be a blank canvas with a hole punched through. But I would like to think that no matter what age I am, that I’d still find a way to make the wood and fabric usable because that’s what years of art therapy and C.B.T. have shown me how to do in my every day. Art therapy has shown me radical acceptance, and I’ve decided to give that gift to others, as well. I have a plan for the summer to make art that is therapeutic (different from art therapy) with my friends every Thursday afternoon now, too. This was influenced by the paper I wrote for this class which spoke about a need for community driven art groups, but also by how much I have realized I’ve come to miss practicing art therapy throughout the fifteen weeks I’ve been taking Professor Peterson’s course. There are now two art therapists whom I’ll remember, and look up to, for a very, very long time.

Felting, as I mentioned earlier, was a kind of hands-on art that helped me grasp what populations may be able to handle certain forms of art over others. It was also generally fun and one of the more abstract forms of art therapy we worked with. My classmate, Mimi, mentioned in class the day we worked with the felt that it released her anger. At the time I was afraid to admit it, but it was a cathartic release of anger for me, too. Anger, for most of my life, has been inexpressible and avoided because I had to relearn the architecture of what that emotion could be when I came to college. The repeating motion of stabbing the felt definitely provided a mind-body connection, as did the mandalas.

Working with the mandala allowed for a beautiful flow of conversation. That class when it was just the five of us, including our Professor Peterson, led to blossoming after blossoming conversation that the tree of art therapy allowed for. While drawing the mandalas on the uneven paper that I had to cut myself, I utilized radical acceptance that it may not come out looking completely even, but that it was still a piece of art I had fun making. For so long I thought that because I’d been through so many bigger events in my life that I shouldn’t let the smaller things that peeved me bother me, just to realize I’d mischanneled radical acceptance. While I was drawing the repetitive shapes I came to terms with how radical acceptance doesn’t directly correlate with becoming apathetic or grey-rocking when anything happens, and that doing so actually hinders your ability to feel the full spectrum of emotion. That’s what I tried to make in my mandala, the full cycle and spectrum of my emotions, which creating the Life Map also facilitated with.

The Life Map that we did as a group was therapeutic for me because it made me realize
how far I’ve come in my life. I’ve written out the events of what has happened to me
innumerable times because I want to write an autobiography, but I’ve never been allowed the experience of drawing what has happened to me. Doing so made me realize all the positives that have happened to me, and that my life shouldn’t be solely defined by the abuse I went through before college.