Pam Bustin
creator, editor, story tender
Walking My Way To Water Week 15: Perspective…And Why Making Shit Makes Us Feel Better
OK….OK….
Of course I don’t mean making SHIT.
I mean MAKING….CREATING…
I mean EXPRESSING our Selves.
I mean, as “Neil Himself” says…. making good Art (See Below)
Hullo Sweeties…
This week Julia took me on a ride through yet more interesting territory – exploring the idea that Art is medicinal for all and that we, as artists are cultural healers.
Cool beans.
But tough again for me.
I marked a LOT of stuff with the ole highlighter this week. Much to ponder. And much to note, slip below my skin and let rest there without so much pondering.
Perhaps, I am beginning to think, I ponder too much.
Here’s my favourite two bits from section one of this chapter….
We are trained to pick at ourselves, to rectify ourselves, to label ourselves. Most of our religions emphasize the notion of original sin. Most–not all–of our therapies center around our wounds and not our gifts. Some, not all, of our 12-Step recovery can center on our character defects and not our assets.
And…
Far more than self-scrutiny or self-correction, self-expression may be the key to a much more synthesized and effective sense of self.
Bells going off for anyone else?
I sicken myself with self-scrutiny.
I grow tired of my own self-obsession – focussed always on my flaws and weaknesses and searching ever for ways to “be better” “do more”….blah blah flippin’ blah.
This chapter has a section that I will need to return to again and again.
So rich and full I coloured it with three colours of highlighters.
She named the section Art is Therapeutic, Not Therapy.
With all my self-scrutiny and soul searching and with the ongoing struggle to quell the voice inside of me that regularlly whispers or screams out incessantly her certainty that there is something seriously flawed with ME, I have had my share of therapy. Therapy has helped me. It will probably continue to help me. In short….I am all for therapy.
That said…
I also know that I tend to get tied up in knots a lot, turning things over and over in my wee brainbox, trying to see all the sides of a situation. Trying to see what is MY Part of this and what might be …someone else’s shite…and…and…and….
I’ve been a bit…. Blue… for the past few weeks.
There is a deep sadness upon me and I’ve been spending a heck load of time running cerebral circles and wondering if it is time, yet again to seek out a new therapist.
Miz Julia has given me a wee perspective whack with this section. Maybe, right now, it isn’t therapy I need so much as a kick in the creativity-pants.
Maybe I just need to make some shit.
Therapy aims at making us normal. Art aims at expressing our originality. The norm has nothing to do with it.
Enlightened therapies urge us to “accept how we feel.” Art teaches us to express how we feel and so alchemize it.
…
Therapy adjusts us to the world. Art adjusts the world itself.
Holy fuck, right? Art adjusts the world itself.
How about….
Therapy constructs a self; Art presupposes and asserts a self.
Here’s what I know.
This woman has done some serious thinking, feeling, creating around these ideas. This woman has been in and has benefited from various forms of therapy and 12-Step groups and is ALSO a prolific, talented artist.
She knows whereof she speaks.
I know whereof she speaks.
I’m betting that many of YOU know whereof she speaks.
There is a time to every purpose under heaven.
Sometimes it is time for therapy.
Sometimes it is time to hunker down with fellow travellers in a 12-Step room.
Always it is time to create.
Making shit makes us feel better. Always.
Making shit helps us understand things on a deeper level than just sittin’ round PONDERING the sitch.
There is much I will continue to mull over in this chapter.
But today….today I need to go and MAKE something in a different vein than making this post.
Today I need to go and make something without words.
Today is… alchemy day.
Carry on ~p
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Pam Bustin 