While planning and curating a workshop you try to think of all the possible outcomes. The truth is you never really know what’s going to happen. Like all good things in life it remains a mystery. That is part of the fun.
I designed, planned and prepared for this workshop with Clare, a friend and colleague who trained in Art Therapy. We have known each other for about a year but had never run a event together. What we decided on was ambitious, short time frame and high content. The 3 hours would start with art making, then move into poetry writing and then combine the two to create a zine.
As the participants arrived, we showed them the resources and then got started with the art making. It was a beautiful thing to see these people start creating so quickly. My main work is in poetry and whilst the enchanted hush of a room full of people writing is wonderful, the crackling quiet of art making was quite different. First, it is visual, so you can see people’s process more clearly. Second participants have to move around and make quick choices about what materials they will use. Finally there is more talking as concentration is different. My mind wandered to how we perceive different artistic disciplines, and the stigma surrounding them. Perhaps we find visual art more impressive because the process is that bit more obvious? It is easier to see the choices that were made, whereas with poetry, it’s all internal and invisible.
My mind wandered to how we perceive different artistic disciplines, and the stigma surrounding them. Perhaps we find visual art more impressive because the process is that bit more obvious? It is easier to see the choices that were made, whereas with poetry, it’s all internal and invisible.
Once we moved into poetry this became clear. Hush descended as scribbling started. Perhaps becouse of the wonderful group we had, or maybe because of the initial extraverted act of making art, more participants shared their writing than is usual: some telling practical stories of journeys, others mystery tales of emotional challenge. All different, all fresh, all written together.
The participants of this workshop were very generous and able to relax, which is not something you can control, so I must thank them, for their honesty and generosity. Many expressed that this workshop was out of their comfort zone and at the end were grateful they came, and expressed how supported they felt throughout the workshop. This is the highest praise for me, for Clare, for the others in the space: creating a temporary creative space is hard and making sure everyone feels welcome is harder. But it reminds me why I do this.
I could write pages about why and how we as a world don’t fully appreciate creativity. It has been taken out of school curriculums (in Poland where this workshop took place, creative writing isn’t even taught), it has been derided as a career. Government funding has been cut, and a careful narrative has been woven about how art is only for the elite. The question of utility has become so important, that anything that is hard to measure has been dismissed. Many creatives are made to re-train in something more utilitarian or to have a ‘real’ job outside of their craft. All of which makes sense in a society that values only money.
This type of art is useful in the traditional sense. It improves self-esteem, reduces anxiety, builds relationships and could generate a profit. Maybe we just don’t care about these things deeply enough, or maybe the correlation between them is not strong enough for the attitude to creativity to shift significantly. At least not yet.
The main takeaway of the participants from this workshop is that having a space with other creative people was like gold dust. It is hard to find and endlessly inspiring. These spaces of non-judgemental creativity are the way we can use visual art, poetry and music to uplift and support those around us. This type of art is useful in the traditional sense. It improves self-esteem, reduces anxiety, builds relationships and could generate a profit. Maybe we just don’t care about these things deeply enough, or maybe the correlation between them is not strong enough for the attitude to creativity to shift significantly. At least not yet.
I would like to focus on two pieces of art made by one participant in this session. First a beautiful collage was made out of carefully cut pieces of colourful paper. Then, hastily a second piece of art was made, out of the offcuts. They were titled ‘The Journey’ and ‘The Journey to the Journey’. This piece is a apt metaphor for the way creativity can support us. First we need to try and make, and in the making we get all these offcuts that can be used to better understand, build and move forward. Having a creative practice should be valued and celebrated the same way a job is. It should not require money to be made from it in order to be respected. Having a creative practice should be something we can all do, collectively and individually.
In a workshop, where these aspects, individuals, and time meet, you can see the sparkle. As contact details are exchanged between 3 hour long friends, art is put into bags to be ‘worked on later’ and questions are asked about story telling, I remember why this matters. Despite my stubborn, well researched and never-ending frustration with the way this work is viewed, supported and treated, I too am sometimes unsure: maybe this isn’t helpful? Maybe I should just re-train as something more useful and stop trying so hard. Then I see it, then this happens, then someone tells me they had never tried this before. And now they want to do it everyday. I remember. I beam. I sparkle. You can’t count it, you can only feel it and perhaps that is part of the magic.
