For those of you who don’t know, I’m currently embarking on a Master’s degree in art therapy. The school I go to requires a LOT of work, both in regards to my classes, assignments, and clinical work, and with the amount of personal growth and deep reflection we are asked to do throughout our education. Being an art therapy student, that means we are asked to constantly make response art (a practice of using art-making to process a specific experience or concept), and also engage in various art therapy directives that we might ask our future clients to use. The point being that we understand what we are asking of others.

Being a therapist as a lifestyle

They say the best therapists have therapists, and I wholeheartedly believe that. I also think that the best art therapists maintain a personal art practice, which may combine art therapy-type engagement with Self and other forms of artistic expression. While it’s been hard for me to maintain my non-art therapy professional painting practice, I have been dedicating time during grad school to explore new materials and forms of creative expression. Writing is one of those forms of expression for me, so this entry is more to highlight some of the pieces from my process I’ve been cultivating since starting this phase of life.

process-oriented artwork

‘Draw Your Breath’ art therapy group activity (2023)

The major difference between the work in this article and my professional artwork is the process. My professional work is meticulous and carefully planned out and executed. My process work is loose, sometimes based on a pre-meditated idea, but mostly based on the moment, what’s available, and what feels good or ‘right’ to work with.

This ‘Draw Your Breath’ image was the first time I experienced this activity. We were instructed to close our eyes and draw our breath, pass the sheet to the person on our right, and do the same. We did a few rounds of this, and everyone got their original sheets back. We were asked to pull out images/shapes/forms we saw in the scribbles.

I’ve continued doing this activity solo when I need to ground and regulate. On days where I’m feeling distracted at my clinical site, I would take a beat to do a breath drawing.

Another practice I’ve found incredibly useful for processing my own life and experiences is an art journal exercise, where I will write about something and then create art on top of it. Sometimes I get a flash of a visual idea while writing and go with that, other times (like the one shown here) I just go with what ‘feels’ good (physically, emotionally, etc.). As I write this piece I’m being reminded of how much I love this practice and how I need to be engaging in it way more frequently, especially when I’m feeling highly activated.

I’ve also found this particular activity helpful when I’m not sure exactly how to start making a piece of response or process art. Since my artistic background is in commercial fine art, I still often struggle with letting go and making art just for myself. It’s easy for me to get caught up in pressuring myself that every piece needs to be ‘good.’ The process of writing first helps loosen me up from that.

exploring different dialcets of artistic language

Western medical & liberation psychology views of ‘neurodivergence’ - handmade book (2023)

One of my favorite parts of the art therapy grad school experience has been how inspired I am to try different mediums and forms of expression. For my Adult Development class, which really was a class comparing the values of the Western medical model and liberation psychology, we were asked to create a book. Each page was based on the topic of the week, and we were to depict the Western medical view of the topic on the left, the liberation psychology view on the right, and discuss how we would integrate them in our practice in the middle. I chose a different medium for each page of the book, including a page of sewn buttons, glued beads, collage, and more.

‘Acknowledging What’s Here’ - clinical response art (2024)

As art therapists, we also explore the way different mediums elicit different facets of the creative process. Since starting grad school, I’ve grown to love watercolor and inks - the two areas of 2D media I always avoided. The quick and fluid properties of them entice me and have inspired me to learn how to let go.

A theme throughout my personal creative healing journey has been learning how to use artmaking to channel raw emotion. As a person living with PTSD, I struggle with dissociation and over-intellectualizing my emotional experiences. That’s why I write. That’s why my professional artwork has a refined and careful process. I am so used to distilling my creative experience, but I’ve also come to find that while that is somewhat of a strength, it is also one of my bigger shortcomings.

Blindfolded ‘affective’ tempera paint stick drawing (2024)

Vellum layer of blindfolded ‘affective’ image (2024)

As I move toward my final year of school, moving from the classroom to the clinic, I’ve been focusing a lot of my creative processing on this. My supervisor last year taught me an activity where we taped a large piece of paper to the table, I was blindfolded, and she handed me tempera paint sticks and asked me to channel my feelings into marks on the page. Letting go of aesthetics and directing intention, just emoting on the page. This is one of the most valuable tools I have learned, although also one of the hardest activities for me to stay engaged in. I will often set a timer for myself to see how long it takes before I notice myself shutting down from the emotional space. It’s about 5 minutes, maximum.

I’ve added to this practice by taking a piece of translucent vellum (a type of tracing paper) and taping it on top of the tempera piece. I will take a marker and draw/write on top of the page, which has served as a way to ground the experience and provide me context in case I revisit the piece. The two images here show a blindfolded tempera piece and the layered vellum. Sadly, my sharpie was almost dead in this session and it impacted the experience. It was a valuable lesson in making sure that all the materials available are properly working before diving into, or leading someone into, an experience like this.

Eco-art: nature as art material and subject

‘To Be Held’ - response art to wilderness therapy class (2023)

Probably the most significant portion of my creative journey through grad school has been the evolution of my process and identity as an emerging eco-art therapist. Through engaging with the creative process in new ways, through curiosity in exploring new media, I’ve opened myself up to what it means to work with nature in the creative process. This both refers to subject and material. The ‘To Be Held’ piece is still one of my favorites that I’ve created in grad school. During my Wilderness & Adventure Therapy class, I felt held by the trees and moss of the forest where we stayed. I was struggling with heartbreak, and the soil absorbed my tears. I felt loved and at home. I asked the land if I could take some moss and bark to add to my image, to use some berries for the ink, and she enthusiastically consented. To work with the more-than-human world in this way, to create art and meaning from and with nature, has brought a deeper sense of purpose and meaning to my own creative work and the work I want to facilitate for my clients.

This particular creative adventure started with my first Ecotherapy class, where we were asked to practice ‘place bonding’ throughout the semester. We were to visit our chosen place at least 3-4 times per week, at different times of day and during different weather conditions. I chose a spot in a local forest, and each visit I created a watercolor painting of the area from a different angle. At the end of my place bonding experience, I collected fallen branches and other materials to create a final art piece to reflect my experience. Place bonding gave me a practice of tuning in to the beings around me, and offered me a space to prioritize these relationships. I saw myself as part of the ecosystem, rather than a separate visitor. Hence, I created a self portrait out of Douglas Fir needles from the area. It has also been a fun and interesting process to watch the needles dry and change color, changing the way the piece looks over time - a reminder of the impermanence of all things.

This final piece was created during an open studio session facilitated by my cohort peers. We were asked to roam our beautiful campus and forage materials to create a burnout buddy. The process brought about a playful engagement with both the campus ecosystem, while also addressing the experience of burnout that is so pervasive in grad school. Bringing play and childlike joy into the creative process, while also fostering engagement with the more-than-human world has helped me find playful moments in everyday life. Creating burnout buddies out of easily foraged materials like Fir cones and rocks made the activity accessible, able to experience in a wide variety of locations.

In the end, a lot of my art therapy education has been a collection of learning new ways to heal myself through art-making, and thus building a repertoire of directives to use with clients on their healing journey. While it has been, and will continue to be, a tough journey of deep self reflection, I am so grateful for the way we are learning.

— Emily Lichtenberg