Category: Art therapy

Art Therapy in the Etsy Shop

Posted on by Faith

Weeds - Original Art TherapyI paint with my heart and all but bleed on canvas. Painting is a powerful way to release anxiety and thoughts that pound my skull. While art as a whole is therapeutic for me, there are certain pieces that were created specifically as therapy with my psychologist. As I thin out the amount of art in my home, I’d like to make available on a continued basis, some of the art pieces created during my therapy sessions or at a later time.

As I said, art therapy has been one of the most powerful tools in my healing process. I can’t explain to you the relief I feel knowing that some of my abuse memories have lost their sting when I was professionally guided with the tool of art therapy.

Continue reading “Art Therapy in the Etsy Shop”

Sangria and Me

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Sangria “Sangria” stands in my Etsy shop full of surrealism and color. The terracotta tone woman with blue hair thinks nothing of the raven that flew in the door. Why should she, after all, she’s got a house inside a house, evergreen trees shaped like arrows and large sunflowers coming from who knows where. The painting is full of life, full of color and texture. And yes, I decided to wear her, too.

I’ve said it before, but I really wish to drive home the point that when looking at a stranger you can’t see on their face what they are going through in their skin. The purpose of putting my art on my face is to be that obvious, to say loud and clear that Lupus and Fibromyalgia can rot from the inside out. Art is one of the major tools I use to manage life with an “invisible illness”.

You don’t start seeing real signs of illness until the person collapses and finds himself/herself in the hospital with baffled family and friends. She looked okay. She looked “normal” What happened?  Lupus. Fibromyalgia. One of the illnesses listed as “invisible”.

Invisible no more. Sangria – My Face My Art   . Continue reading “Sangria and Me”

A Month of Strings 2

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I’m still trying to come to terms with the health scare.

Patience - unavailable
Patience – unavailable

I micromanaged every move for fear it would be my last. I thought about a journal I’ve lost touch with, a girl who wrote about the “indignity of death.” How is she? Where is she? I cleaned my room because no one should have to clean it up. I started to take out the trash but I was tired. Then I thought, if I won’t be here tomorrow I should turn off the heat, ya know? I thought about doing my hair then realized it wouldn’t matter. I never thought, I need to throw away this or that so no one finds it.

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Some Things Aren’t Easy to Look At

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Ariel knew d1 They just aren’t, some issues are so frightening that even in the line of the sun they are still pitch black, still frightening.

When I painted this child, I did so with full knowledge that she may not sell. I have a problem though, I can’t paint gentle art if that’s not what’s inside. So I did what I do. I painted what I know.

Little Ariel knew it would rain. How does a person with Fibromyalgia and /or Lupus know it’ll rain even without turning on the weather report? Our bones tell us. The pain level shoots up high. Our eye sight is affected. Our fingers, lips and toes get cold. The pain level shoots up so high and so fast that it’ll double the body over. What’s interesting to me is that I’m caught off guard every time.

I hold my side. I’m bending down, seconds from loosing lunch, but it hasn’t clicked. I don’t understand what’s happening to my body. When I try to get to the car I see its sprinkling, raining or even light snow. Now it makes sense. Finally I realize the weather system has changed  and that has affected my pain, my complexion, fingers, lips, eyes and my ability to think rationally. It’s as if I’ve been sucked in and can’t see my way out….  but not so fast. I can see my way out. Continue reading “Some Things Aren’t Easy to Look At”

The Hide and A Little While Longer

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il_570xN.790567381_6p5vI look at the drawing called “The Hide” and question how much I should reveal concerning it’s symbolism. I’m sure if viewed long enough it will interpret itself without me or anyone else having uttered a word. However, if one word were to wrap up how I felt as the ink crossed on paper, that word would be vulnerable. Vulnerable is the dominant emotion felt when I display art that expresses Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and Dissociative Identity Disorder.

My heart sinks with each intricate line that builds a fortress from the inside out. Figure after figure emerges with each level of lines. Though the staircase would appear to lead down to the central black figure, in my mind it leads up. The figure is in a fortress of her own making, and that fortress is….. I’m not sure how to end the sentence.

Continue reading “The Hide and A Little While Longer”

She waited as long as she could

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She waited fma

Art details:  Orange rays and white beams meet in the red sky. Down the middle grows an old oak tree where two red birds (cardinals) and a raven swirl between the branches above a solid white figure. From the figure extends points of light. Her hands reach up to the branches and grow into them. Two blue figures have fallen from the sky; they’ve joined the merge as well. Continue reading “She waited as long as she could”

Nala Original Art

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Nala fmaArt Title: Nala
Art by: Faith Magdalene Austin
Medium: Acrylic, ink, acrylic seal
11 x 14 Artist Board

I knew when I began this painting that I wanted a young girl to sit on the water’s edge with koi coming to meet her. I wanted a lot of texture with small details. To increase texture I added sand to her mahogany – rust colored pants. Her blouse is layer after layer of white paint and butter cream acrylic paint. This affect came together nicely to form a tunic top. Continue reading “Nala Original Art”

Cut in Stone

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Cut in StoneA friend of mine, now gone, once said: “The most beautiful things come from the most foul manure.” I hope he’s right. I hope to one day grow past what is ugly into not just beauty but peace.

As stated in my bio, I have Post Traumatic Stress Disorder as well as Multiple Personality Disorder. There are times when my mind races and is filled with flashbacks from times unsafe. I want to run from my own head. I panic. I call a friend and then I take to a few more coping skills such as painting.  Continue reading “Cut in Stone”

Dance of Dissonance

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framed

By 4 am I was exhausted. My head was tired, full of noise that made no sense. At my threshold I got up from bed and walked 10 feet to my studio, pulled out a piece of paper and began to paint. I removed some of the surface paper for texture, scratched paint with a toothpick and smeared paint with all my fingers until finally the noise ceased. 

In the painting you’ll see a face outlined in black – eyes, nose, lips. While the face is hot with red and orange, the dreadlocks hang in blue and black. On the outskirts, into the white is yellow and the tiniest flicker of green.  Continue reading “Dance of Dissonance”