When Trauma Happens, Children Draw: Part I

When trauma happens, children draw.

After a disaster, children’s art and play provides a window into the experience of trauma. And this innate impulse to communicate through creative expression is more than just another picture or just “pretend”—it reflects the neuropsychological nature of trauma itself.

Media coverage of the growing disaster in Myanmar reminds me that there will soon be 1000’s of child victims of this disaster, each needing food, shelter, and other basic needs to simply survive. They will also eventually need mental health intervention that is meaningful and addresses both the short and long term affects of trauma. Imagining how those children have been irrevocably changed by the current disaster additionally reminds me of the innumerable children I have worked with as an art therapist and how their young lives were altered by hurricanes, tornados, and the like.

Children relive their traumas not only in their minds, but also through their actions. In part, their actions are often attempts to regain mastery over events that have disrupted their lives. Art, play, and imagination are ways children naturally express the unspeakable and circumvent “talk” that is difficult or temporarily unavailable.

Non-verbal modalities such as drawing are effective because of the impact that trauma often has on language. Language, a function of declarative memory, is generally not readily accessible to trauma survivors of any age after a traumatic event. In particular, Broca’s area, a section of the brain that controls language is affected, making it difficult to relate the trauma narrative. In fact, when a trauma survivor attempts to speak, PET scans actually show that Broca’s area tends to shut down. Meanwhile, other parts of the brain, including the limbic system, are in overdrive, particularly in individuals with posttraumatic stress symptoms.

We certainly don’t know all there is to know about why art or play might be helpful to children who have experienced trauma. Some theorize that structured sensory experiences including drawing or play make progressive exposure of the trauma story tolerable. Under appropriate circumstances, it may be that these forms of communication are exactly what are necessary to bypass language and allow sensory aspects of trauma to be expressed rather than suppressed.

The simplicity of children’s art and play as responses to trauma has been understated as to their importance in trauma recovery. And does all this just apply to children? No, I don’t think so. The returning military from Iraq, students exposed to a random sniper’s fire, and all those who survive any disaster have the potential to benefit from creative expression, post-trauma. We all encode psychological trauma in a sensory way and we all have the possibility to use our senses in the recovery process. expression is more than just another picture or just “pretend”—it reflects the neuropsychological nature of trauma itself.

Originally published on May 7, 2008

© 2008 Cathy Malchiodi

www.cathymalchiodi.com

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The Art of Neurodiversity

Art IS neurodiverse.

Artist with autism Stephen Wiltshire has an uncanny gift for capturing any scene on paper with photographic accuracy. But is it the result of a mental aberration, the mind of a savant, or the work of an outsider artist? Or perhaps it’s neurodiversity.

Autism is a widely discussed topic in the news, and throughout web media. Discussions range from controversies about autism as “pathology” to acceptance as simply a difference in the wiring of the brain from one person to the next. I am not here to say what autism is or is not, but to consider how we might reframe the definition of how and why people with autism –and anyone for that matter– make the art they produce in the first place.

Stephen Wiltshire’s artistry [as seen in recent YouTube film] has been explained as possibly that of a savant. But his work is not simply a photocopy of reality; it has a distinct personality, in addition to the eidetic memory involved. Oliver Sacks once referenced Wiltshire’s work as involving vastly complicated neural processes that go into making any visual image such as a drawing or painting. Wiltshire is one of a number of celebrated individuals whose artwork intrigues and inspires further exploration. Others include the famous Nadia, the English girl whose artwork was discovered in the 1970s by the psychologist Lorna Selfe. At 4 ½ years, Nadia had a vocabulary of 10 words, but she displayed a remarkable ability to portray in realistic detail animals and other elements of the world in a way that children of her age do not. In Nadia’s case, her drawing skills disappeared as her language abilities improved later in childhood and early adolescence.

Neurodiversity is an idea that proposes that atypical neurological development is a normal human difference and that this difference should be respected just like any other difference we humans might have. The idea of neurodiversity has long been supported by some people with autism and others with mental disorders, viewing their conditions as part of their identity and preferring it to labels such as “abnormal” and “disabled.”

Peter Kramer recently brought to light some of the possible links between mental illness and creativity that have been debated for a number of years. It brings to mind a perennial question—should the art of anyone with mental illness be considered different from other art? And should we even be talking about a psychiatric diagnosis in relation to an artwork or body of creative expression by one individual? These questions have been debated in the fields of art therapy, art, psychology, and psychiatry, without much resolution.

Much of the art created by people with autism or with any other diagnosis is hardly different from that of any other artist you will find in a SoHo gallery. Is neurodiversity part of the picture [no pun intended]? Possibly. Is it reasonable to add yet another term that must be used to describe diversity to our ever-growing list of politically correct language? That’s up for debate. But art, no matter who creates it or what complex neural processes collude to make it possible, comes from a passion, not just a talent. And it’s all art if we enjoy looking at it and that’s the bottom line.

Originally published April 30, 2008

©2008 Cathy Malchiodi

www.cathymalchiodi.com

Art Doesn’t Kill You, It Makes You Stronger

Pain made visible.

Our perceptions of severe or chronic pain aren’t always apparent on a CT scan or MRI. When chronic pain is inexpressible, art conveys—and transcends—suffering.

Psychology Today blog colleague, William Todd Schultz recently blogged, “ When Art Kills.” I am here to say in this and future blog entries that more often, “Art Saves Lives.” For people with severe or chronic pain, painting, drawing, or sculpting may be ways to communicate what even the best medical professional cannot diagnose.

Mark Collen, originator of the PAIN Exhibit (www.painexhibit.com ), says in a recent NY Times piece that art gave him back his life when he was forced to endure years of under-treatment for pain. Collen began to create art pieces (see illustration) about his pain and subsequently discovered that it was more effective than words in communicating the nature of his pain to his doctor. Since that time, hundreds of other individuals have joined Collen by contributing artwork depicting both their intense and relentless suffering as well as transcendence over the disability and depression pain brings.

The idea that art can help people with physical pain express their perceptions and experiences is not new, but is gaining increasing attention in both the fields of science and art. A number of art therapy studies now support the use of art making in the reduction of pain perception in patients with cancer and arthritis. Drawing has also been used with children and adults to differentiate migraines from cluster or tension headaches and to help decipher the intensity of attacks.

And do a brief search on the web and you will literally find thousands of sites that feature galleries and online references to “migraine art.” It’s a well-known fact that people with migraines often report “visual migraines,” also know as migraine “auras.” Typical visual patterns include “fortification patterns” that resemble zig-zag shapes and art by many people—artists and non-artists alike—reflects these patterns. When the very first migraineurs started to express symptoms through art is not known. But there is speculation that some of the mystical paintings from medieval times, including the work of Hildegard von Bingen (Saint Hildegard), were actually the “visions” that resulted, at least in part, from a migraine attack. Van Gogh, Seurat, and many other artists have also been cited as possible “migraine artists.”

Oliver Sacks, well-known neurologist and author, gives a first hand account in Migraine: “In my own migraine auras, I would sometimes see — vividly with closed eyes, more faintly and transparently if I kept my eyes open — tiny branching lines, like twigs, or geometrical structures covering the entire visual field: lattices, checkerboards, cobwebs, and honeycombs. Sometimes there were more elaborate patterns, like Turkish carpets or complex mosaics; sometimes I saw scrolls and spirals, swirls and eddies; sometimes three-dimensional shapes like tiny pine cones or sea urchins.”

For those of us who have never had a migraine attack or have been fortunate not to live with chronic pain, art provides a window for us to actually see the agony others endure. For people like Mark Collen—well, while medicine is doing a better job at treating pain, art is not only a way to communicate the inexpressible, it is a way to get through it.

Originally published on April 24, 2008

© 2008 Cathy Malchiodi

www.cathymalchiodi.com

Elephant Artisans Give New Meaning to “Trunk Show”

Painting pachyderms and the healing arts.

Pachyderms from Milwaukee to Thailand are painting. But is it for pure pleasure or just for the money? And what does it have to do with health and well being in humans?

At least four decades ago, a gallery exhibit of chimpanzees’ paintings started a debate about whether or not primates have an aesthetic sense and even an appreciation for beauty. Is it really art? Are the brushstrokes and images pleasing to us but not the animals themselves? Zoologist Desmond Morris [see original work in The Biology of Art] wrote that at least one chimpanzee would scream if he was interrupted before he finished making his paintings. Morris thought that chimps indeed get pleasure from looking at their art

Elephants can paint, too, and are being given a few art lessons in the interim. Some in the art world have taken notice and one group actually uses proceeds to save and rehabilitate other elephants that have been abused or neglected. But the verdict is not in as to whether their brushstrokes to canvas are actually “art” or just daubs of paint to canvas made without motivation or artistic sensibilities. And can we witness a reflection of what is sometimes called the “artistic personality” in animals? Elephant artists can be as temperamental as human artists, wanting to make art on some days, but not on others.

What does this have to do with the healing arts? Since most art made by humans is created for pleasure rather than monetary gain or fame, what four-leggeds have to teach two-leggeds may be somewhat important to the growing field of art therapy and rehabilitation and trauma intervention. As with humans, painting and drawing, given the right circumstances, can be pleasurable and naturally soothing for some animals. When animals in captivity are taught to paint, there is a reduction in stressful behavior such as self-mutilation and repetitive swaying. Some zoos already have encouraged elephants to paint as a means toward helping the confined find a sense of calm. products. And if art materials are available to young chimps, they will begin to make scribbles with them, just like young human children do at an early age. The chimps do so without rewards of food or other payoffs.

If you are wondering whether elephants’ paintings are art or not by Soho standards, then you missed the point. Creating art is, at least in part, about making something for personal satisfaction and sensory pleasure, rather than just for survival. Watching elephants paint remind me that when we give ourselves to art and play with our hands, head, and heart [and trunk], there’s transcendence in that experience, whether its “art” or “not.”

Originally published on April 10, 2008

© Cathy Malchiodi

www.cathymalchiodi.com

You’ve Got Soul!

Have soul and be well.

Maybe you don’t take it with you—the verdict isn’t in yet for me– but you’ve got soul. Keeping it central to daily life can be a path to a sense of wellness. Soul is a state of feeling whole, alive, and in the here and now. It’s those moments of soul that help you feel well in this often-unhealthy world.

When I was a young child, I learned via Catholicism that my soul was as important as my mind and body. I would look in my bedroom mirror, narrow my eyes, and imagine the aura I saw around my body was my soul leaking out around the edges. I actually did not know any other definitions of soul until I was a teenager. One of my friends would do a fabulous impression of Soul Brother Number One, James Brown. I had never heard soul music before, but I knew immediately that it made me feel alive and free. After that, I knew that soul was something more than I was told—it was something that brought joy, authenticity, and creativity.

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Like soul, the healing arts are not a hard science. They may never be and the mystery of why we humans continue to make art, sing, dance, act, and play may never be fully understood. I can’t tell you that making a painting, dancing your heart out, or writing a poem will cure your life or what ails you. But I can say they might make you feel a little better, given that wellness is not disease- or disability-dependent. Feeling well is a state of being whole, engaged, and present, no matter what cards we are dealt. Its about “having soul.” And when we have a lot of soul, we have a zest for life, palpable energy, and a deep sense of well-being.

James Hillman equates soul with imagination, your potential to dream and create. It’s self-medicine that helps you to find new ways of seeing and being in the world. If you take the time to engage in the arts, you might just escape the soulless techno-trance of your PDA, laptop, or large screen LCD TV for a few moments. Making that third phone call in the organic food market, elevating email to the centerpiece of daily life, and pushing those Blackberry keys like a lab rat hoping for a food pellet all steal the human experience of soul as surely as any hungry ghost in the bardo.

Don’t fret about whether or not you have a soul. Lighten up, for heaven’s sake– make a drawing on that Post-It note, let James Brown thunder from your stereo, and dance as you like and die happy. The good news is this: We’ve all got soul.

Originally published April 7, 2008

© 2008 Cathy Malchiodi

www.cathymalchiodi.com

Songs to Soothe the Panicked Pooch

Music can soothe the not-so-savage, domesticated beast.

There seems to be an increasing body of evidence that supports the view that certain music can change a bad Bowser to a more even-keeled canine. If your furry best friend is feeling a little anxious or stressed, it may be time to pop a CD into that surround sound system. But what would be best: Metallica, Beatles, or Vivaldi?

While I usually focus on two-legged beings and the impact of the arts on their health and well being in this blog, four-leggeds can benefit from some forms of the healing arts, too. In the general wellness department, dogs may profit from a regular dose of the right music along with daily walks in the park and designer dog food.

The fact that music can calm the panicked pooch is no surprise to music therapists who have studied the effects of rhythm, sound, voice, and song on humans for many decades, demonstrating its health-giving affects on everyone from pregnant women to older adults with dementia. Researchers have long known that music affects the nervous system and cardiovascular system. Now, hundreds of animal hospitals, kennels, and rescue shelters have taken notice of music as therapy for dogs, as well as devoted dog owners themselves. We can purchase specialized CDs with music designed for doggy listening and there is even a pet-friendly radio station (www.dogcatradio.com ).

Much of the current knowledge about music’s effects on dogs comes from the work of Belfast-based psychologist and animal behaviorist Deborah Wells. Wells exposed numerous breeds of dogs to everything from Metallica to the classical music of Beethoven, Bach, and Vivaldi. Wells found that dogs in shelters exposed to classical music spent more time in a resting state, barking a lot less than other dogs. In contrast, heavy metal music agitated the dogs [which somehow does not come as a great surprise]. Classical music-and Bach in particular– reduces separation anxiety and stress behavior, including reactions to loud noises such as thunderstorms. And pop music had no effect at all, possibly because dogs, like humans, are used to hearing it regularly. So apparently, Paul McCartney and Barry Manilow pose no known harm to canine mental health.

Dogs are known also to take comfort in music with slower rhythms, fewer instruments, and simpler melodies. Because dogs hear at much higher frequencies than people do, music to calm the particularly panicked pooch should be played a low volume. But is all classical music Fido-friendly? The answer isn’t in yet and dogs, like humans, seem to prefer a little variety. So, roll over Beethoven, your dog may also dig a little rhythm and blues.

Originally published on March 31, 2008

© 2008 Cathy Malchiodi

www.cathymalchiodi.com

Brainy Art

Art can make you smart.

Are smart people just naturally attracted to study art or perform music, dance, or drama? Or does early education in the arts actually cause changes in the brain cognition? Recent findings show that there may be some significant causal relationships between arts training and the brain’s ability to learn. that develop important components of

The Dana Foundation, an organization with interests in neuroscience, immunology, and arts education, just released a three-year study that found that early training in the arts is possibly good for your brain. Neuroscientists and psychologists at several universities have now enhanced understanding of just how the arts might improve thinking, memory, and language skills. Music education is linked with the ability to control both short-term and long-term memory, geometric representation, and development of reading skills. Dance training improves thinking through mimicry and acting classes seem to expand language. Visual arts lessons outside the classroom during childhood are linked to improved math calculations; in retrospect, I wish I had more art lessons before I took on that advanced math class in high school.

It’s not a new idea that the arts can make us smarter. The notion caught fire in the 1990s when researchers showed that college students did better on certain math tests after listening to a little bit of Mozart. And while the current report from the Dana Foundation did not provide definitive theories as to how arts make us smarter, what it does do is end the popular notion that people are either right- or left-brain learners. Apparently artists and scientists are not that fundamentally different and perhaps there is even an underlying connection between the cognitive processes that give rise to both arts and sciences.

As someone who is passionate about how arts change lives, I hope this research expands and continues to generate new data about the effects of arts education throughout the lifespan. The preliminary conclusions of the Dana report are a milestone in the journey to illuminate the impact of the arts on the brain and learning. If anything, this should be a call to psychologists, parents, educators, and public policymakers that art matters.

Originally published on March 23, 2008 on Psychology Today

©2008 Cathy Malchiodi

www.cathymalchiodi.com

Art Matters

“Arts to the rescue“

Some of you are probably wondering why Psychology Today would have a blog called “The Healing Arts.” My worldview of health and healing grew from more than two decades of working as an art therapist and an expressive arts therapist, a practitioner who uses all the arts [visual, music, dance and movement, drama, creative writing, and play] as modalities to help people recover, restore, and revitalize. Working with individuals of all ages through the arts and making art an almost daily practice in my own life, I have come to believe that art and imagination are equally as important to health and well-being as balanced nutrition, regular exercise, and meditation.

I believe all the arts– by experiencing them and engaging in them– can return you to what it means to be truly human. The arts integrate what is most opposite in life: joy and grief, clarity and bewilderment, humor and absurdity, hope and despair. They are present in our lives to cultivate intuition, inspiration, and spontaneity. In the increasingly technological trance we encounter each and every day, art and imagination are there to awaken us to consciousness and to naturally repair ourselves, maintain our balance, and recover what it is to truly feel. We cannot argue with thousands of years of humans engaging in art making activities that often have no monetary or similar payoff. We humans engage in creative expression for reasons that extend far beyond the art gallery, theater, or concert hall. When we suffer the inevitable wounds to heart and soul, arts are available to come to our rescue, having always served as a healer during times of trouble.

So I hope this blog provides something that completely shifts your impressions about the psychology behind the arts, creativity, and imagination and makes you think about how these forces awaken our inner world of feeling and personal authenticity. My intent is to try to articulate my impassioned [and on some days, creatively chaotic] vision for how the arts and imagination restore emotional health. This vision will be conveyed through actual real life stories and, on other days, you’ll read about some of the emerging research that supports those anecdotal, first-person stories of recovery though the healing arts. Because I try to practice my mission by engaging in the process first-hand, occasionally I’ll share some of the entries that emerge in my visual journal that you see on this page. To me, art does matter.

Originally posted on March 20, 2008

© 2008 Cathy Malchiodi

http://www.cathymalchiodi.com