Little “t” trauma & painters’ block

A few weeks ago while I was painting, one of my kids got into a motorbike accident. He’s okay. I’m so grateful he’s okay. This terrifying experience and the way it’s affected my painting practice has been startling. It is amazing how emotionally connected I am to my art and my process. The day after the accident, I finished the series I was in the middle of. My relationship with those new works is complicated. I have yet to be able to bring myself back into my studio to paint since.

I’ve had time to process, yet I have a severe mental block.

My son ended up with a concussion. He’s functioning great and is finally back to school for half-days. All things considered, he’s doing incredible. So, why has the circumstance affected me the way it has? Why haven’t I been able to move forward?

I think for a second I questioned his life. For just a moment, I questioned if he would survive. After it was clear he would “make it,” the anxieties of brain injury and how it could affect his life flooded in. He was terrified, I was terrified, but I had to be strong for him. Before we headed to the hospital I had my mom come over (a retired nurse) and with panic in my eyes had her look him over. I think like a child, I needed her to be strong for me. It was clear, only minutes after the accident, despite lots of blood and disorientation, that my boy would be okay. Yet, right now, thinking back to these moments has my stomach in knots. I have a weird, warm, and heightened sensation in my neck and shoulders. Our bodies carry so much.

I guess my creativity is carrying it as well.

Maybe I’m writing to help myself process. Maybe I feel a need to explain myself. Maybe it’s both.

I don’t know where I’m headed with my artwork right now, so I think I’m going to challenge myself to something I’ve been thinking through for a long time. I’m going to start a simple practice painting some of the things I love most.

Cities.

Vegetables.

Weights.

Wine.

Prepare yourself. This could get weird.