Art Therapy

Mama Africa by Tree Newby

In March of 2013 my whole life changed. I went from feeling happy and healthy (albeit tired and a bit overwhelmed in my profession) to having stroke like symptoms every day.  My condition is called Hemiplegic Migraine. At times my left arm is curled up and half paralyzed. Sometimes my left leg doesn't work properly and I have to drag it along with me. I tire easily, my brain is foggy, I get confused and forgetful. Sometimes I cannot hear properly or speak properly. On a few occasions I have been completely paralyzed in one or more limbs. Just a few months ago I was completely paralyzed in both legs and both arms for about a half an hour. Later that evening I noticed that my brain wasn't telling my lungs to breathe so I sat up and labored to breathe.

It has been quite a wild journey. I have spent time in denial, grief, bargaining, anger, acceptance, hope, confusion, agitation, anxiety, humor, and love... to name a few.  It has now been two years and it has become quite clear I can no longer perform at my career.  During the process of letting go of the old brain and the old skills, I made a solid effort to demonstrate to my self that I could still be useful and productive. 

My sweet husband Steven has been my biggest supporter. During that first Christmas (2013) he bought me a few canvasses and a set of acrylic paint.  I had dabbled with painting back in the mid 1990s while recovering from a major bipolar episode. It was fun but I never really fancied myself as an effective painter. Our good friend Dev is an amazing painter. He often brings his sons up around the holidays and they stay a night or two.  

While Steven was illustrating a cover for his book, and Dev was working on an amazing abstract oil painting, I quietly pulled out my canvass and acrylic. I used my iPod to look up African art work. I've always been very attracted to the form and shape of African women, and I'm crazy about bright colors and intricate textures. I found a few things which inspired me and I carefully drew outlines of the shapes I wanted to paint. I had a hard time with the form of the feet so Dev erased and re-drew the feet you see above.

We laughed and had a glass or two of wine. I painted and I didn't think about my medical condition or our fears that our family would experience financial collapse as I could no longer perform in my fast paced career. I simply painted. And it was fun. And my left arm disappeared from this reality but I'm right handed so I kept painting.  And my left cheek sagged, and my left leg dragged... but I just kept painting. And laughing.

The next morning I put on the finishing touches and posted the piece to FaceBook. I was pretty astounded by the positive feedback. Within a matter of hours a girlfriend of mine was privately messaging me about how she wanted to buy the painting.  It was such a huge gift for me.  It wasn't an extravagant amount of money, but it was the first time that I had real time positive feedback about painting.  I was supercharged and comforted at the same time.

Because no matter what happened to my body, or how many times per day I lost the use of various limbs or parts of my brain, or whether i could speak or write, I could still find ways to express myself. I could be creative. I could be productive. I could still feel useful.  And that has made all the difference in the world.