One Brushstroke at a Time

The past two years have been a crazy roller coaster ride, with the train derailing while I was still inside it. From going on strike, to having to tell my students that our class trip was cancelled, to having to do online learning through a pandemic, my life has been forever changed. Add to that the big D. No, not that one! Get your mind out of the gutter! I mean the mental health D, the one that no one wants to talk about and tries to avoid like the plague, or COVID in our case. Yes, I’m talking about depression. I went from being a stressed out teacher, trying to juggle one too many things at the same time, to being forced to stop working because of a burn out. I didn’t know what to do with myself in those first two weeks. All I kept thinking was how guilty I felt for my students that I had left behind. Unfortunately, the guilt, the stress and the pandemic would lead my mind to the darkest of places; a place that my doctor eventually called depression.

Now what does this have to do with arts and crafts, you might be wondering. I’ll get to that in a minute. I just want you to understand what my headspace was last winter. I felt like I was stuck in a black hole, unable to pull myself out. That is probably the best way to describe what depression was to me. I had lost all interest in life. Talking to a psychologist, she encouraged me to try my hand at art again. That’s what got me through, that and the support of my loved ones.

I have always been someone who needs to work with my hands. I love to feel the different types of yarn when I’m crocheting, or the different textures of the papers I’m using whilst scrapbooking. It gets my creative juices going. I’m also someone with ADHD, which means it’s hard to sit still and watch TV or just listen to music. I have to be moving, doing something at the same time to keep my mind and body busy. In my case, it’s what helped me keep the darkness at bay.

Though I did do some crocheting, especially in preparation for the arrival of my very first nephew, painting is what soothed me the most. I am not a great painter, not a professional artist. I’m a history, geography and English teacher that likes to do simple crafts. The last time I had attempted painting was in high school, with mediocre results. So I started with a paint by numbers. As a perfectionist, I was a little nervous at first, trying to follow every curve with precision. My first attempt at painting again was okay, but it was still just paint by numbers. So I decided to dip my toes in the deep end and do a project I had been promising myself I would do for years now.

I have to back up a bit to explain what I had in mind. I met my husband whilst working in a museum. He was one of my colleagues and a big history buff like me. He had a particular interest in ancient history, and more specifically ancient Greece. So for our first anniversary, I decided I would make him a gift that represented his love for Greek mythology. I lost so many hours looking for ideas on Pinterest to finally settle on one idea, a small painting with a map of ancient Greece and various other elements to represent his favorite god, Hermes. Not a small task. I actually got to the point where I sketched it out, freehand, on the canvas, which is harder than you think when you realize just how many small islands are part of Greece.

8 years later, I finally got up the courage to put paint to canvas. Listening to my favourite tunes, mostly acoustic songs with nature sounds in the background, I got to work. First step, figuring out the colour scheme and mixing paints. I quite enjoyed getting my hands dirty, not only because I am very hands on, but also because I am very clumsy. The feel of paint on my fingertips helped me to relax instantly.

When my paintbrush first landed on the canvas, I was stressed. What if I made a mistake? What if it didn’t turn out the way I had imagined. The violent storm of ideas that constantly assailed me in my day to day life was back, but for the first time in a long time, I found the courage to tamp down those negative emotions. I started with one stroke, added more paint to my brush and went in for another. I kept going back for more paint and found a soothing rhythm. I also discovered, through trial and error, that if I swished my brush a certain way, it added an oddly satisfying texture to the paint accumulating on the canvas.

Through the course of a few weeks, I kept going back to my canvas, more enthusiastic every time. My confidence was back, at least in this area of my life. It gave me hope that I would be able find my center again and let go of some of the stress and guilt that had been plaguing me for months; I felt like I was no longer a lost cause. With every brushstroke, I could breathe more deeply and apply some of the breathing techniques I had learned to reduce my anxiety. And I was doing it naturally, without thinking. My imagination and creativity were slowly returning. I could make some simple decisions again. No matter how trivial those decisions may have been, it was a step in the right direction.

The past two years have been a crazy roller coaster ride, with the train derailing while I was still inside it. But that is not the end of my story. Painting helped me to find my inner peace and slowly get back on my feet. I have since found other passion projects, like making decorations for my new classroom next year and starting a second painting to go with the first. I’ve realized that I don’t always have to be making elaborate pieces. The creative process is what’s most important and it’s what will keep me motivated when I am confronted with difficulties in the future.