the online magazine about life as a creative process

 

The fifteen-minute artist

 

by Connie Robillard

 

 

     
 

Most ideas are born out of necessity. The concept of the fifteen-minute artist came to me out of my own need.

As a psychotherapist, I work daily with people who struggle with emotional pain: feelings that take up residency in the body and torment the mind. Grief is one of those necessary, yet painful experiences.

My mother died nine years ago. Although it was a predictable death, her loss jarred the foundation of my life. I was no longer someone's daughter. I felt orphaned and alone. I took a week off from my practice and soon realized that grief was not going to pay attention to any timetable. Grief had come to be my companion for a while.

As I returned to work, I worried that my own emotions might intrude on clients' therapy time. I had visions of melting into sobs and running from my office in tears. I didn't want that for me or for my clients.

The idea of setting aside grief time came to me through different sources. This is not a cure-all or a fix-it-quick remedy. It is a tool to be used for the creative, gentle journey through feelings.

The practice began with making an appointment and commitment to myself. Each day at a scheduled time, I sat in a safe, quiet and private place. My theory was that if I gave grief expression, it would not spill out at unpredictable times. The appointment had a definite beginning and ending, lasting fifteen minutes.
For the first few days, I sat alone. My mind wandered and the fifteen minutes ended. Grief continued to hunt me down at odd times and burst forth. The whole idea seemed to be doomed to failure.
Then it occurred to me that if I was making an appointment with grief, the space had to invite the emotion in. I brought a picture of my mother one-day, music another, and then a candle, some paper, color crayons, pencils, paint, a toy drum and noisemakers. Grief finally found me in my space, visited and found its creative voice.

Over time, the practice evolved into a loose pattern of meditation and then some form of creative expression. I danced out my feelings, banged on the drum, wrote poetry, painted pictures and noticed that when the time was up I felt satisfied, settled and calm. The experience of grief was being transformed. The practice was releasing the feelings from my body, freeing my mind to live in the present moment.

As a psychotherapist, I have shared this tool with clients individually and in groups. It is adaptable to most situations. It is a useful method to express feelings, set goals, redirect energy, reduce stress, decrease confusion and increase creativity. The keys for success are patience with self, time, a conducive setting and a willingness to participate without an attachment to outcome. This experience is a return to the instinctive, imaginative place of natural healing.

An important part of using this tool is closing down the experience and walking away at the end of the fifteen minutes. This takes discipline and determination.
Once a week, review the work. This may mean taking time to remember the dancing or the drumming. At the end of a week, there may be poems to read, colors on paper and pieces of art. Whatever symbolic material remains, view it with a kind eye and give it attention. It is important to recognize insights that have emerged and to observe transformation in progress.

The practice of creative expression has been a vehicle for change and peaceful resolution in my life and in the lives of others. It has also produced some interesting works of art, which chronicle life's inner journey.

 
     
 

15-minute art
by Connie Robillard
 

 

     
 

Connie Robillard is a Certified and Licensed Clinical Mental Health Counselor in Londonderry, New Hampshire. Her book with co-writer / clinician Marcel A. Duclos, Common Threads, will be published at the end of this year.

 
     

 

     
   
     

 

© all work on this site is copyrighted