Tag Archives: art

Socks

I don’t know how I’m going to explain to A what’s going on in my head. I don’t have words. But I have art.

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I started working with oil pastels and mandalas when I was at Sheppard Pratt, and it continues to be useful when I just don’t have words. Not sure if I’ll show this to A…maybe, if I have the courage.

On a more pleasant topic, socks! I was talking to a couple of other bloggers about them. I have teeny feet that don’t fit in store-bought socks, so several years ago I started knitting my own.

However, I have what knitters call Second Sock Syndrome: I get bored with the pattern after I make the first sock, so I rarely make a matching pair. I pretend my mismatched socks are some kind of artistic statement, but really I just get bored easily.

Here are some of my socks. More in the laundry, probably, and I’m too lazy to dig them out.

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And for added fun, a few works in progress.

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The last two pictures are my Elizabeth Warren socks, which I plan to send her when I’m finished. Yes, I’m a weird fan girl. I call them Sox Populi, and I hope someone else here is nerdy enough to get the joke.

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Mandala Series, Part 1

At the trauma unit, we had art therapy twice a week. I got major performance anxiety, froze up, and had no idea how to start. The art therapist traced a circle on a sheet of paper and put that and a box of oil pastels in front of me.

“What am I supposed to do?” I asked. I was terrified of doing it wrong, whatever that meant.

“Just play with it,” she told me. “It doesn’t have to mean anything.”

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That’s what I did. I discovered I like oil pastels. They’re thick and definite, but you can also get in there and move and blend them with your fingers. Messy, which feels honest to me

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This was my second piece. I didn’t feel blended–I felt sharply divided, but all in dull, dead colors.

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This started out as a full piece about anger, anxiety, and tension. Then there was a bad night where somebody in my system shredded half of it.

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I had trouble getting containment (one of the skills they teach you, to put troubling things away to deal with later) because their techniques were all imagery-based, and I suck at imagery. My therapist asked me to create a containment image in art therapy, so that’s where this came from. The white at the center is the space for containing. The yellowy-green is an anxious color for me, but as it shifts to the blues and purples, it starts to feel calmer.

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Anger. And radiating from the center of the self, darkness that gets wider and wider.

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Comfort. I made this for a particular part who likes purple.

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Denial. This one came out of a very intense period of denial, so bad that I truly couldn’t tell if I was making it all up and couldn’t trust my memories, my feelings, or anyone around me. Moving from black to grey to white to grey to black, seemingly unendingly.

With oil pastels, you often get little “crumbs” from the crayons. Usually they annoy me and I try to keep them from marking up the empty space outside the circle, but this time the smears felt right, and I added more on purpose. The art therapist said that in mandala work, the circle often represents the self and the outer space represents external factors.

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