Coloring in Times of Stress & Sorrow: Tips for Finding Relief Through Art
Can creativity make you feel better?
I think so.
Coloring can be emotionally uplifting.
Spending time focused on things you love, like Copic Markers, colored pencils, cute stamps and coloring images— just being surrounded by color— for many of us, it soothes and calms the mind.
It simply feels good to be creative.
So knowing that coloring can make the best day feel even better…
And now, with all this pandemic stuff…
Can we use coloring to help us cope with our emotions and struggles this time of social distancing and isolation?
I think so.
Coloring, like many artistic hobbies, can be an excellent way to focus the mind and release tension in times of sorrow or stress. But you can’t expect a random coloring project to give you instant healing and permanent relief. Today, let’s look at four smart tips to help relax and reduce stress through coloring.
Coloring as therapy?
Before we start, I want to be careful here.
I am absolutely NOT a mental health clinician or therapist.
Art Therapy is a formal field of study with licensing and strictures. If you want to know more about the uses and benefits of professional Art Therapy, please visit the website of the American Art Therapy Association for more information from a reputable resource.
I’m a technical illustrator. I am not a therapist.
All I can share is my own experience, based on personal observation and using art to lift my own spirits.
This article is NOT intended to serve as a substitute for actual mental health care from a licensed professional.
My time of Sorrow
For you, the world suddenly feels like it’s melting down.
But this viral pandemic thing? It’s just a blip on my radar.
My father died four weeks ago today. It was fast. It was unexpected. It was painful. I held him as he passed.
I had to stop and cry a moment after writing that paragraph. I do that a lot now. Stop and cry. It’s a gut punch at random moments, every day.
My mother has Alzheimer’s Disease and my dad was her primary caretaker and the only person she really remembers. So this is now a big mess too.
The reason why I’m telling you this is not to elicit sympathy.
It’s so that you understand, I’m not tossing out random advice here.
I’m sharing exactly what gets me through the day— in the hope that it can help you too.
A little coloring CAN provide respite and relief from sorrow.
I’m using it to heal right now.
But I’ve also experienced first-hand where coloring does not help. It’s not a cure. It doesn’t fix anything. And it doesn’t end or even hasten the end of the grieving process.
What creative time does is to help me find myself again. During this time of pain and now with the added worry for the health of my family and community…
Art helps me tune it all out for a brief moment, so that I can hear myself breathe. So that I can think.
And that’s important.
It’s not as easy as it sounds…
Just sit down and color! All your cares will float away!
No.
That’s not how it works.
Here are my four big observations.
How to use creative coloring to ease some of your tension and stress.
You may not want to color
Everyone around me knows I’m an artist, so I’ve had a lot of people tell me:
Oh, you just need to get back into the studio. Start making art again, you’ll feel better!
But oh, there are days when art is the last thing I want to do.
Part of my reluctance to draw and color is because art is not my hobby. Art is my job. Nobody would ever tell a plumber:
Oh, you just need to go fix a few toilets! Start plunging clogged drains again, you’ll feel better!
I know they mean well… but art and work are all mixed up and intertwined for me.
I think my reluctance is also a bit natural.
You may not want to color right now either.
Your head is full of worry.
You’re working from home or maybe you’re laid-off. The kids are not on their regular routine. Local businesses are closing.
And every day the death toll rises.
This is not normal!
So no, you may not feel like coloring.
Coloring may feel frivolous and downright stupid.
That’s okay.
If you don’t feel like coloring, don’t color. It’s just that simple.
If your heart’s not in it, don’t drag yourself to the table and force yourself to be artistic.
When you’re in the thick of it, when the pain is the deepest, when the worry is the strongest, when your spirit is damaged… there’s no point in staring at a blank piece of paper.
You can’t be creative on command, not even in the best of times!
When the time is right, you’ll feel it.
You’ll know. Thoughts of art and creative ideas will pop into your head. That’s your brain sending the signal, now it’s okay to head back into your craft room.
If you’re not ready, the ideas and the drive to create won’t be there.
So wait for the ideas.
Let them come, in their own time.
2. Feelings are optional
We have this weird idea that artists drag out their emotional baggage as inspiration for everything they do.
Guernica by Pablo Picasso breaks my heart. I’m a mother and I can not bear to look at the mother on far left of the painting. I feel her pain. I can hear her wail.
This is just a guess, but I think paintings like Guernica have inspired much of the recent art journalling movement.
People see amazing art like Guernica and they want to move people the way Picasso moved people. They try to capture the same kind of extreme feeling in their journals.
So they vomit emotions onto paper thinking that this is the key to healing. Then they post their projects online as if their journal pages will heal others.
That’s not how it works.
Passionate art journalling is a personal thing. If it makes you feel better then do it.
But for a lot of us?
No thank you.
Dumping emotions onto paper just feels weird and incredibly unnatural to me.
Maybe it’s because I’m a buttoned up introvert but I really can’t work up the hysterics necessary for splashing paint around and then scribbling my deep secrets in the margin.
That’s not how I work.
It’s okay if you have reservations too.
Healing art does not need to be messy and tear-jerking.
Don’t feel pressured to emote all over the place.
You’re not Picasso and you don’t have to be Picasso. You don’t have to scratch words of woe in blood or recreate your darkest hours to find emotional healing through coloring.
When I draw, paint, or color, I feel better simply because I’m drawing, painting, or coloring.
It’s not about what I’m doing, it’s the fact that I’m doing something.
The act of creation is the medicine.
So don’t feel bad for coloring something happy, comical, or frivolous.
The times may be tragic but your coloring doesn’t have to be.
Escape into the process. Let the art supplies quiet your nerves.
3. Allow your mind to wander
This is a tough one.
Being alone inside your own head is hard.
It’s so much simpler to allow a television program or music to distract the scary part of your brain which likes to explore weird thoughts while your hands are busy.
Entertainment is an easy-out. Handsome NYPD detectives hunting serial killers are a barrier between you and your anger or sorrow.
Try turning off the distractions.
While you paint or color, let your mind wander.
The things you need to deal with?
They’re going to surface at some point. I think it’s better to let them surface during a coloring session rather than in the midst of an emergency when people are counting you to be smart and safe.
As I worked on this project, I looked down and noticed that I was using a very old colored pencil.
For years, my parents hunted antiques at garage sales and flea markets. Every once in a while, my father would proudly hand me an old cigar box filled with random vintage Eagle colored pencils.
I was coloring with one of my dad’s pencils.
And I felt his love.
That was a very good moment for me. It hurt like hell, but I felt better for it.
I would not have had that moment if I was watching breaking news.
Great ideas come to me while I’m coloring in the quiet. I solve problems. I feel feelings. I work out issues. I see things from different vantage points. I make good decisions.
That won’t happen… that can’t happen if you binge watch medical dramas or plow through dragon slayer audio books while you color.
Don’t be afraid to be alone with your thoughts.
4. You may not love what you make
Again with the Guernica comparison.
People assume that when you draw, paint, or color with emotion, that the end result will be the best art you’ve ever made.
No.
This is not my best work ever. It doesn’t even rank in the top fifty.
Heck, this is a digital stamp from Power Poppy. I did the coloring, but it’s not my drawing. Even with the same flowers, I’d likely draw them different. So this is not really something I’d call “my art”.
But it served a purpose.
I feel better for coloring it.
Don’t put pressure on yourself to produce anything useful during times of crisis.
If it turns out great, then congratulations.
But don’t go into a project feeling raw and expect to channel it into a masterpiece.
Can I point something out?
Guernica is famous as a passionate painting filled with sorrow and pain.
But Guernica was NOT painted in an emotional state. It was a commissioned piece for a scheduled showing. It went through stages of planning, thought, consultation, and revision. They changed the paint colors, they changed the paint itself, they changed the layout and the canvas. The whole thing was publicized and commercialized as it was painted.
What makes Guernica amazing is not Picasso’s outpouring of emotion, it’s his skill and talent for communication.
You’re not Picasso. I’m not Picasso. We don’t have to be Picasso.
We’re coloring to connect with our inner selves.
It doesn’t matter if the results look pretty on the wall later.
Busy hands are good
For creative people, we feel better when we’re making things.
We heal our hearts through handiwork.
Spending time focused on things you love doing, it soothes the spirit and calms the mind.
We can use coloring to help us cope with our emotions and struggles this time of social distancing and isolation.
We a weird determination to draw, paint, and color. That’s our natural state of being, it’s what we think about when we’re busy doing other stuff.
This is us.
It’s good to have some normalcy in these times of crisis.
We are makers.
So go make something.
Normally, there’s a Big ad here…
The artwork in my articles always corresponds to a class or a sale.
My hope is you’ll see the project, fall in love, and want to buy it.
But I feel really crummy sticking a class advertisement at the bottom of an article dealing with stress, grief, and all that’s going wrong in the world today.
So let me just say,
Yes. I have an online class which covers the coloring process for this image.
It’s called “Hints of Spring”. If you want more info, click the links.