I get that there's actual art therapy where people work with professionals to process their feelings. But in my opinion, all art is therapy.
At least, that was my gut-punch of a takeaway after writing my first book*.
Once it was written and revised, and I was able to take it in from a bird's-eye view, I was like, "Wow. Okay. I clearly had some things to work out." And also, "Oh my God, nobody can ever read this!" (Imagine me clutching it against my chest like a diary).
Last week, I shared the things that have been most helpful to me in writing, and there was a big section about remembering to write your truth.
Even as I recount the mortification of bearing my soul through my words, I still think that it’s the best way to tell a story, which is why I’m a chump and doing it again.
Can you survive this dichotomy? Can you create from your most intimate thoughts and also face the audience that goes on to consume what you’ve made?
Are you willing to let people read your diary?
When I put it like that, I get that it’s not very enticing.
But since I’ve had the opportunity to do this again — write a new book, with this knowledge that some stuff might be revealed — I might use this knowledge to my advantage.
In the remainder of this post, I’m going to prompt some questions to help you uncover your recurring themes: the things that (actively or subconsciously) you continue to return to again and again when you’re creating.
The way I see it is, they are going to come out one way or another.
So why not do it through art?
And while we’re at it, why not control our narrative?
In this and every post you’ll also find:
✍️ Three creative exercises
🌞 Five good things that happened last week
💬 A prompt to set your intentions for the new week