Allowing the Dark, Allowing the Light
Grief Painter™: Tambra
Facilitator: Faith Harrison
Tambra came to paint lingering resentments from childhood abuse and to rediscover and affirm her inner artist.
Facilitator: Faith Harrison
Tambra came to paint lingering resentments from childhood abuse and to rediscover and affirm her inner artist.
Tambra's Words
It seems that my biggest challenge was also the most impactful. Added to this is the BOX that I have created for myself over my life – from my family, experiences, encounters with others, traumas, etc., that limits my creative spirit. I have done a great deal of painting in my life, be it walls, furniture, crafts and on assorted papers, but I still have a limited view of the possibilities of what can be done with paint and tools. Faith offered a gentle and sparky support that made me feel “safer” about trying some things, but also recognizing that there was just a lot I didn’t know, or had never tried. I have been creative in my life but the fear of making a mistake or, again, ruining a project has been a controlling force. I left with the calm thought that I wanted to take more chances in small ways in relation to my creativity.
The most impactful piece of this grief painting process was experimenting with the brushes and techniques while letting go of the outcome. I walked in with very few expectations; I did not want to “plan” in any way this experience. Faith made it easy to trust her and to let go of outcome by stressing that it worked best if I gave myself over to the process – which I was actually, hungry to do.
I went through periods of liking where the painting was going and then not liking where it was going. Time and time again, I surrendered to what I thought it should be, what it should look like, accepting it as it grew and came into being. Still, there were a couple of layers of painting that I was afraid I had “ruined” the project. And then there was the voice that what I was choosing to do was boring or uninspired – and I just tried to let let the voices flow in and OUT. Faith was the perfect guide and support; her comfort level with the techniques and the transforming from one layer to the next made it easier to let go and trust. Trust me, trust her, trust the process.
I believe that the music allowed me to trust more; some were old friends. Others, new tunes that flowed effortlessly for the moment, calling up emotions in side of me, giving them permission to emerge in a healthy way. The music encouraged a sensual exploration instead of a brain exploration. Also, the addition of music chosen by me was bittersweet and brought up things that I did not expect to encounter, and provided healing to the past. Some of the music I chose was surprisingly perfect, and some of the music that Faith offered was also just what I needed in the moment to propel me forward through a particular layer/emotion. Allowing the Dark, Allowing the Light, hangs in my bedroom, and it is slightly tilted. I think about fixing it, and then I say: let it be as it is.
The most impactful piece of this grief painting process was experimenting with the brushes and techniques while letting go of the outcome. I walked in with very few expectations; I did not want to “plan” in any way this experience. Faith made it easy to trust her and to let go of outcome by stressing that it worked best if I gave myself over to the process – which I was actually, hungry to do.
I went through periods of liking where the painting was going and then not liking where it was going. Time and time again, I surrendered to what I thought it should be, what it should look like, accepting it as it grew and came into being. Still, there were a couple of layers of painting that I was afraid I had “ruined” the project. And then there was the voice that what I was choosing to do was boring or uninspired – and I just tried to let let the voices flow in and OUT. Faith was the perfect guide and support; her comfort level with the techniques and the transforming from one layer to the next made it easier to let go and trust. Trust me, trust her, trust the process.
I believe that the music allowed me to trust more; some were old friends. Others, new tunes that flowed effortlessly for the moment, calling up emotions in side of me, giving them permission to emerge in a healthy way. The music encouraged a sensual exploration instead of a brain exploration. Also, the addition of music chosen by me was bittersweet and brought up things that I did not expect to encounter, and provided healing to the past. Some of the music I chose was surprisingly perfect, and some of the music that Faith offered was also just what I needed in the moment to propel me forward through a particular layer/emotion. Allowing the Dark, Allowing the Light, hangs in my bedroom, and it is slightly tilted. I think about fixing it, and then I say: let it be as it is.
