How Art Changed My Life. Chapter 1.

How Art Changed My Life. 

By: Haley Forslund

The Chapters of my life that lead me into who I am today. 

Abstract

Nobody can imagine their life as full and beautiful without art.  Art is beauty, play, creation, imagination, expression, inspiration and intuition.  I believe that artists express their emotional world through creativity.  Art is the center of feelings and sentiments of a person coming out of life experiences.  Art approaches these events and objects, not necessarily for the purpose of representing them, but for raising emotions to stir up feelings within a persons soul.  Through feelings, art and creativity reaches to the center  of who we are, inspires us and helps us maintain our sense of humanity, and further develops our sense of who we are.  I believe that art is a release of emotions and imagination that can help us therapeutically solve many issues that we as humans encounter.

• Chapter 1: My Childhood and Early Adulthood

• Chapter 2:  College and Graduate School

• Chapter 3:  Internship for Lutheran Social Services

• Chapter 4:  Art Therapy at NAFC

• Chapter 5:  Umtha Welanga

• Chapter 6:  My “Ah-Ha” Moment

CHAPTER 1

  My Childhood and Early Adulthood. 

When I was growing up, I was the typical American child.  I loved being outside, I loved my imagination, and I could keep myself busy even if I was by myself. I had the “All American Dream.”  I had a wonderful dad who played outside with me, taught me how to build things, taught me how to ride a bike, taught me what good music was, taught me to swing a bat.. and stick up for myself.  I had a beautiful mom whose imagination was more active than her children.  She painted everything in our house, and her gardens and flowers were wonderful jungles to play in with my imagination, who could “skip-it” just as good as I could, and gave me my free-spirit.  She taught me everything I needed to know about art; how to love it, how to be good at it, and how to use it as a therapeutic tool.  Both my parents were excellent at encouraging me and my art, and my sister was always there right by my side encouraging me too.  

However, my parents weren’t meant to be.. like most parents in America today, they ended up getting divorced because of their differences and were probably too young to marry in the first place.  I was going into 5th grade and my life turned upside down with the flip of a switch.  Suddenly, my “All American Dream” family, was there no more.  I knew it would happen.. in fact, I’m sure I told that to my parents the day they announced they were making these life changes.  My younger sister started to cry, and I knew I had to be strong for her.. so I threw on my “bratty attitude” and said: “I told you so...” to my parents.  As sad as it was, it eventually turned out for the better.  

Soon, it was just me, my sister and my dad while my parents worked out their differences.  It seemed like eternity.  My dad had to learn how to play the mom role, and he did a fantastic job, however.. it wasn’t easy.  For him.  For us.  Or my mom.  

We kept ourselves together as best as we could.  I kept myself as strong as I could... for as long as I could.  And like I have said before, I’m not usually one to talk about things until I reach my breaking point, then it all explodes.  Before my parents split, I experienced some other traumatizing events that lead up to my behaviors and my trust issues that I still battle today... and learned my “bottling everything up” strategy... that (let me tell you) did not work and still doesn’t work.  That eventually made explosions later that I’m surprised, didn’t blow up the continent.  

My parents finally figured out a custody agreement, and my behaviors were out of this world.  I was so used to being the strong one..that I didn’t know how to cope with everything that had happened.  Everything that had happened before... and everything that my family was going through.  Both my parents moved on, and had started new relationships. Even though it was hard to understand then, it has shaped me into who I am today.  However-  I had so much bottled up anger and confusion...that I didn’t know how to express. verbally.   Other than throwing tantrums, and screaming extremely hurtful things at anyone who said the wrong word to me.  

Before I knew it, I was sitting in different counselor offices.  Awkwardly.  I can remember sitting there... and sitting there.  And refusing to talk.  I didn’t want to talk about it... especially not with a stranger.  I didn’t want to talk about anything with my parents because I was afraid of my own weakness, and I was terrified of hurting their feelings. 

Through all the darkness I was battling at this time in my life, I found light through art.  I could sit in my room and draw for hours.  I could sit outside and color for hours.  Art is what brought me back to my sanity.  It was my escape.  It helped me establish stability again.  I had notebooks that contained purely scribbles and doodles of thoughts and images of how I was feeling, how I felt, and secrets I never told.  It was my sanctuary.  It was my sanity.  

When I entered high school, my art teacher noticed me right away.  Noticed my drawings, noticed my quietness when I was in the classroom.  The only classroom that I concentrated in.  The only classroom that had my attention at all times.  And the only classroom I wanted to be in. I can honestly say that I got through my entire high school career without completing one assignment in art class.  My teacher knew that I needed that time, and knew that I needed to use my own imagination, creativity, and skills to be able to truly express myself.  She encouraged me to express myself during class, because it was making a statement and it was helping me cope.  She saw that in me.  And I still to this day, I  can not thank her enough and I wish I would of gotten the opportunity to thank her more.  She was there to listen to me even when I had no words to say.  She hung up my art work even if it seemed mean and dark, nude and exposed... she didn’t care.  She supported my art.  Because it was truly what I was feeling.  

My senior year, I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life.  I never thought I would get into college.  I had no plans.  I knew what my parents wanted me to do, I knew what my family wanted me to do.  But I didn’t know what I wanted to do.  Or so I thought.  I just didn’t have the confidence I needed.  Between my art teacher and my guidance counselor consulting me, they introduced “Art Therapy” to me.  I can remember sitting in the counseling office with a dumbfounded look on my face.  

“Art Therapy?” 

“There is a such thing as Art Therapy?”

 “You’ve got to be kidding me.”  

A sudden sense of relief.  A sense of freedom.  

I knew right then and there.  Exactly what I wanted to do for the rest of my life.