An Exercise in Pointlessness

            So today began the third week in the mad house and this afternoon we had art therapy. As I mentioned in my post ‘Week Two in the Mad House’, I really struggle with the art therapy sessions as I just don’t get it. Today, at the beginning of the session people started to have a go at me about the fact that I prefer to write rather than draw or paint. Well, perhaps saying they were ‘having a go at me’ is a little immature, but I felt persecuted by everyone in the room. I know that the point of therapy is to make the things that are uncomfortable, comfortable, but people pressing me just makes the urge to fight or run away, even stronger. I also felt like people weren’t listening to what I was saying. Everyone kept telling me to just do whatever came to mind; to follow my instinct, but I do that through writing. Art doesn’t come naturally to me, words do, and so telling me to do what comes naturally, inspires me to write. I express myself through words; this blog is evidence of that. But no one would listen when I tried to explain this.

            Because of this I was frustrated and angry, so when it came to actually making the art I admit that I was stubborn and rebelled slightly. I spent ages looking through the art supplies for inspiration and just got more and more annoyed, but I was convinced that the therapist was making note of my stubbornness and so eventually decided to do something random just to prove how pointless it was. Pointless making me do something without feeling or meaning. I found a picture in a tattoo magazine of a tattoo of an eye. The image meant nothing to me; it was just the nicest one I saw. I cut it out and stuck it to a piece of card and then just left it at that. I called it ‘An Exercise in Pointlessness’ because I felt no connection to it; it held no meaning for me; it just felt completely pointless. After that there was still loads of time left and I still felt angry and frustrated, so I grabbed a piece of paper and a pen and scrawled in large letters, taking up the entire A3 page, the question ‘WHY?’ I have felt so disillusioned with a number of things recently, the therapy being just one of them. By writing ‘why’ I was not only questioning being made to do something I didn’t want to, and thought was pointless, but I was voicing my doubts about a number of things. One might argue that by doing this I found purpose in the art therapy but I did so by using words; or at least a word. I didn’t use paint. I didn’t draw something. I wrote something. Which just proves my point that words can be ‘art’ and you don’t have to make an image.

            By this point the anger had receded slightly but I still felt like being stubborn and so, as there was still some time left, I grabbed another piece of paper. This time I just signed it and then left the rest of the page blank. My point in doing this was to express exactly what came to my mind when I entered art therapy on a Monday afternoon, NOTHING. Finally the time for creating the art was up and we had to sit and give feedback on each other’s work. Obviously people commented on mine, saying that they found it provocative and aggressive. I said that I felt apathetic towards my pieces of work but that may have been a slight lie. I did feel little towards the first piece that I did, but I was being stubborn when I said that they all meant nothing. Truthfully, I felt, and still feel, angry and upset and frustrated about the whole art therapy session and about the work I created.

            I’m still annoyed because, however childish it may be, I feel like I gave in to the pressure to create art. I was stubborn and deliberately made a point, through my work, of trying to rebel, by still using words and refusing to create something; leaving a blank page. But I gave in and produced something. And now I find myself questioning my work and the purpose and meaning that I placed upon it. I also find myself wondering why it is, exactly, that I dislike art so much. If therapy is going to make me think this much, I’m not sure I like it – and now I really am being stubborn and childish.

            I will write again soon I am sure.

God bless

KV