art

Art of an introspective nature; a look at artwork that reveals the artist's psyche and comments on the inner workings of a chaotic mind.

How Art Therapy Is Used to Help People Heal
The use of artistic methods to treat psychological disorders and enhance psychological state is understood as art therapy. It may surprise you to find out that artists are often an efficient tool in psychological state treatment. What could art possibly need to do with psychotherapy? As an expressive medium, art is often wont to help clients communicate, overcome stress, and explore different aspects of their personalities.
By Stanley Ren5 years ago in Psyche
unrecognizable faces
Last night, I dreamed of unrecognizable faces, but with a familiarity of having already known them. Could it be, that these were past and/or future friends? Companions? Was this a premonition of who I was to meet or have met again to assist in figuring out what internal work needs to be done and in turn to assist others as well? Do people need help in such things? Do I need help, emotionally even spiritually?
By Joyce5 years ago in Psyche
Growth and Decay are One and the Same
At one point in my life, all my arms carried were scars leftover from wars lost against myself. For many years, my arms were shadows of shame always hanging by my side, holding onto memories from the darkest time of my life. The first time I ever addressed the scars I was terrified, but I swallowed my pain to help hold the hand of someone needing my strength. I told this person for six years it was me and a blade sharing secret exchanges behind locked doors or bathroom stalls. For six years it was hoodies and long sleeves in 90 degrees St. Louis heat. I still remember the look on his face when he said he had noticed the stars but was too scared to ask because he didn't know what memories would rip open. The truth is, we all walk around with scars on our bodies, we pack up our trials and tribualations and haul them everywhere with us. Some wear their scars like medals of honor while others tuck them away like symbols of shame. Me? For a long time, I was the latter; until I got older enough to wonder what good came out the time spent in agony.
By Taylor5 years ago in Psyche
How Art Therapy Can Relieve Stress
One of the moves that children start out with, as soon as they're able to, is holding a crayon. As soon as they can do that, they start to draw. Being creative and making art is a human impulse. Artists are the ones who tell the truth, which is often why in hard times, they can be seen as a threat and are the first to be censored. But creating art heals the mind, spirit, and body.
By Amanda Doyle5 years ago in Psyche
Why do I want to be an Expressive Art Therapist?
Why be an Expressive Art therapist? Why am I so interested in helping people with their struggles when I have gone through my own struggles? Why would I want to hear about other people's struggles and use art to help them? These are the questions that have been on my mind since I started this program at California Institute of Integral Studies (CIIS). I am still exploring the answers but I do have some ideas. I will give some ideas on the answers to these questions and explore a couple main aspects of my identity; being Jewish and being a cis female related to being a future Expressive Art Therapist.
By Sophie Roth6 years ago in Psyche
Beautifully Broken or Hopelessly Impaired
It’s a new dawn It's a new day It's a new life For me And I'm feeling good.” - Nina Simone, Feelin Good Not now, not always..
By Patrick Southerland McAllister6 years ago in Psyche
Crammed Inside
This is not your usual segmented story. You will have many questions and I will try to accommodate you with information, but truth be told not all your questions will be answered. Sometimes in life the questions are what we live for, not the answers, so take this however you want, but be grateful for these questions of wonder. Keep in mind though, to each his own, when you start to unravel the mysteries in these sentences, in this place of the unknown. Almost could be compared to beloved Twilight Zone stories that would give you the shivers. Now I would love for you to really imagine yourself walking through these lines of text as if it were your own home.—knowing every nook and cranny without even having to actually think about it. You will know it like the back of your hand, but on the other hand you will get glimpses of these fictional people that you do not know from Adam and you probably never will, but it is the story itself that needs your full attention. So please, enjoy the ride, open your mind and I’ll see you on the other side—of this story.
By Victoria Nieves6 years ago in Psyche
Sinking
FADE IN: INT-DAY-BEDROOM-DARKENED ROOM The shot opens on FINNLEY’s face. He is wearing a smile with his eyes closed. Finnley is dreaming of the ocean and his own world. He is dreaming of a better place.
By E.K. Sandoval6 years ago in Psyche
My Story
My name is Colin Sean VanWyke, my brand CSVW is exactly how it reads: my initials. Born & raised in the Great Lakes State of Michigan in the small town of Mason. Believe it or not, Art has not always been the name of my game. Hockey was, and has always been a crucial part of my life, even before I was able to tie my own skates. Hockey was my sole passion and it became all I wanted to live for. My dream was to one day be the starting goaltender for my home state’s NHL team, the Detroit Red Wings. Hockey prepared me for a lot of things. What it did not prepare me for, was the life I chose to begin following my graduation. I decided to take a year off, a "gap year" as some people know it as, to work, make a little money for myself, and be more independent.
By Colin VanWyke7 years ago in Psyche
We're Gonna Burn Down the Circus (Pt. 1)
This is the first installment in a series entitled "We're Gonna Burn Down the Circus"—be sure to keep an eye out for the next chapter.
By Shannon Simpson -Chronically Badass7 years ago in Psyche
"The Curse"
Moema Harjo sat on her bed and examined the left side. The creases were apparent and the smell of coconut hair oil still lingered on her husband’s pillow. She took off her black heels and began to rub her feet. The sun peeked lightly through the curtain and the warmth kissed her right cheek. She walked to the bathroom and stared at her body in the mirror. Her body was 100 pounds lighter from when her marriage had first begun. 15 years ago, a black dress would have complimented her figure well, but now it just seemed to swallow her up whole. The mascara had run down her face and she grabbed a bundle of tissue to comfort them. She was now alone and the thought of it had finally gotten to her. She sat on the toilet and grabbed her purse. She looked for the poem that she was supposed to read to her husband as a final good bye. It read:
By Nina Moné7 years ago in Psyche
Crack Through the Darkness
It was the first kiss of sunlight over the horizon that kept me from moving that morning. I was curled up in the chair on my balcony, sipping on my coffee. Two sugars, and a little too much cream that morning. My dog, Autumn, paced next to me to let me know she really wanted breakfast. I couldn't, however, seem to draw my eyes away from the sunrise. It had me believing that somehow I could also be blessed by this sunlight and start over. I started knowing that if I stood there long enough the sun would crack through my darkness, shuffle it away into a corner, and I could be something new again.
By Lauren Swain7 years ago in Psyche