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Monkey Mind, Healing Art and the Power of Supportive Kommunity

The past few weeks have been a difficult time for me. My mother was diagnosed with terminal cancer and, perhaps unsurprisingly, in the first few weeks after her diagnosis I was finding that I was hating much of what I was drawing. In Sketchbook Skool (SBS) we call these critical thoughts our monkey, a term coined by Danny Gregory, one of the Skool’s founders (To find out more about the monkey visit Danny’s blog here). I call this state of mind “monkey mind” and after a few days of monkey mind I turned to the SBS kommunity for help, posting on our Facebook page asking for tips and ideas to get me out of this state of mind.  The response was immediate, creative, hugely supportive and felt like an enormous virtual hug. So, for those of you who might also suffer bouts of monkey mind, here are some of the suggestions students made:

  • Draw the gorilla that has you in his grip
  • Go through your sketchbooks and do different versions of specific drawings that you enjoyed
  • Draw/write/decorate quotes
  • Suspend judgement and just keep drawing
  • Pick something difficult to draw and just draw it repeatedly as an exercise; or paint something simple (e.g. a square) repeatedly
  • Create colour swatches
  • Practice lettering
  • Sketch and scribble things that are less precious – maybe on scraps of paper or post-it notes
  • Draw with your opposite hand
  • Sketch your mum or for your mum or things she loves

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I was also challenged by another student to take part in an ongoing 5 day challenge, which involved posting pictures of old or new work for 5 days.  I decided that rather than posting old work I would try to post new work for 5 days. The sketch above was one I drew on the second day. That challenge probably helped me more than anything, because I felt like some SBS friends were looking out especially for my daily posts and being so supportive and encouraging in their responses to them! And if it hadn’t been for that challenge I might not have drawn at all that week – so thanks Karla Stevens for nominating me keeping me drawing when I might have given up. The sketch below was made on day 4 in the car at 70mph (I wasn’t driving) while we were travelling to visit my parents.

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The following Monday, after a very emotional weekend with my parents, I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to draw at all when I received that week’s SBS challenge (in between kourses we have been receiving a weekly email with new challenges set by a different kourse tutor each Monday) because I was just too upset. But by mid-afternoon I was cried out and decided to have a go. The challenge was to draw on some kind of tinted paper with watercolour and white gouache. I’d never used gouache before but I had, by chance, bought some a few weeks before thinking it might be useful and I found some brown wrapping paper to paint on. Within ten minutes I was totally focused on drawing and then painting and in what I can only call “my happy place”.  I was drawing and painting for perhaps two hours and for those two hours all my worries were forgotten and my spirit was calm.  Now, a day later even looking at this painting makes me feel calm. And I can honestly say, since I don’t paint very much at all, that it’s probably the best painting I’ve ever done!

I’m not at all religious and I don’t believe in fate, but I can’t help thinking that that decision to join SBS last July was meant to be because right now I have art and SBS and this very powerful supportive kommunity just when I need them most.


Creativity, Calm and Cancer

feetI’ve read a number of articles in the press recently about creativity, particularly drawing and art, and how it helps to heal, and to promote good mental health and happiness. On 1 December The Guardian newspaper ran a story about Molly who doodled her way through depression, recording her experience on her blog The Doodle Chronicles.  On 3 December Robin Landa reflected on how making positively affects the brain in an article entitled “Draw Yourself Happy: Drawing, Creativity + Your Brain” on printmag.com.

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These and other articles have resonated with me because I’ve never needed to find pockets of calm more than I have in these last few weeks. My husband’s family have a hereditary cancer gene.  They only discovered this recently after a series of deaths, including one of a young member of the family from a particularly aggressive cancer, rang alarm bells. It  turns out they have an hereditary gene for that particularly aggressive cancer (someone with the gene has an 84% chance of developing the cancer and it develops and spreads quickly). One by one they are being tested: you can only have a test if you have a direct familial link to someone with the gene – but that means that each positive test opens up the need for more tests as new direct direct familial links to family members are established.  So far only one family member has tested negative: my husband (who was also the first person to be tested).  As each new positive test comes back (and one of those tests has also come back with a diagnosis of cancer too) it feels as though I am living in the middle of a minefield, with mines constantly exploding around me. I’m watching my family being decimated by this disease, feeling blessed that my daughter can’t have inherited that gene but cursed by survivor guilt.

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I’ve never needed calm more but even the mindfulness that I’ve been practicing for 3 years now isn’t enough to keep those thoughts away.  But drawing, sketching, is giving me pockets of calm when I can focus and forget and get lost in the page.  My world shrinks down to the tip of my pen, the page of my moleskine and trying to capture the object I’m looking at. It’s harder than it was a few weeks ago because I’ve noticed that a tremor has crept into my hand so I can’t draw a straight line – all my lines are wobbly and shaky.  And I’m struggling to keep my focus for very long because I’m very tired. But I’m so grateful for these pockets of calm, for something that allows me to get lost in the process.