Colette, a professional artist, shares her personal journey of creating art while navigating mental health challenges. She emphasizes the misconception that art must stem from sadness and discusses her shift towards creating joyful art, highlighting the importance of expressing emotions beyond trauma.
Hello, my name is Colette. I am a professional artist and educator, and today I want to share my journey of creating art while navigating mental health challenges. In this post, I will discuss my experiences with art-making, particularly how I transitioned from using sadness as inspiration to embracing joy in my work.
There is a common belief that art must come from a place of intense emotions, particularly negative ones. During my college years, professors often emphasized the idea of pouring "blood, sweat, and tears" into our work, joking about the mental breakdowns we might experience. This mentality suggested that suffering was a prerequisite for creating meaningful art.
As I transitioned into a college educator myself, I vowed to reject this notion. From my perspective, creativity can flourish in a state of well-being. For me, art flows when I am thriving, much like flowers blooming in good weather. However, I recognize that others may find their creative spark during difficult times, using art as a coping mechanism.
For a long time, I created art rooted in sadness. I believed that my best work came from my painful memories, which resonated with audiences who shared similar experiences. However, I eventually realized that I was carrying these burdens unnecessarily. The more I painted about my trauma, the more I felt stuck, akin to a character from "Avatar: The Last Airbender" who loses their ability to bend fire without anger.
I often relied on specific playlists to evoke the right emotional state for creating sad art. Yet, after leaving the studio, I felt raw and tender, not healed. I was inducing sadness to create art, which was not a healthy approach.
Over the past two years, I have dealt with severe OCD, which consumed much of my mental space. While I did create art about my experiences with OCD, I found myself painting less and expressing my feelings through comics and writing instead. I realized that painting needed to come from a place of joy, but there was a disconnect.
Determined to move away from painting about trauma, I began to explore new ideas. I focused on themes of joy, identity, and womanhood. However, I found that taking these concepts too seriously led to perfectionism, which stifled my creativity. Art is inherently human, filled with errors and imperfections, and when we elevate our ideas too highly, we risk preventing ourselves from creating heartfelt work.
As I began to heal from my OCD, I started painting a series of unicorns, which I refer to as my "trail camera unicorns." While I may never be a painter who solely creates joyful works, I have shifted from expressing abject sadness to exploring mischief and playfulness in my art. This change has been liberating and enjoyable.
I want to challenge the idea that only sad art is intellectually valid. Many artists, like Jenna Gribbon, create work filled with tenderness and joy, proving that happiness can also be profound. Young artists often equate sadness with depth, but I want to affirm that creating joyful art is equally valid and sustainable.
My unicorns represent a new chapter in my artistic journey, a transformation of my earlier tragic work into something more playful and lighthearted. I encourage anyone creating art, whether it stems from joy or sadness, to embrace their emotions and express themselves authentically. Remember, art is a reflection of our humanity, and all emotions are valid in the creative process.
Thank you for listening, and I hope you find inspiration in your own artistic journey.
