Overwhelm and the Physical Act of Making Art

I include myself when I say that everyone I know seems to be living in a state of overwhelm. 

“Life stuff” and “extracurricular life stuff” are leaving everyone with little room to focus on maintaining work life, school life and home life in the usual ways. 

Maybe overwhelm for you includes worry about Covid, preoccupation with the war in Ukraine, existential grief about climate change, or your sense of safety getting rattled by a shooter in the subway.

Overwhelm for me has taken the form of recurrent health issues after having Covid, problems with my apartment (a long-term leak, a mouse problem, and an unresponsive management to go with it,) the death of a grandparent, plus all of the above. I’m left with fewer resources to draw on when something small goes wrong, or when something bothers me. (Right now workers are jackhammering just outside my window.)

Working with college students—young people who are expected to excel—has been a wakeup call for me in how everyone is managing. Spoiler Alert: not well. 

On the one hand, my students have become very good at working through hardship and trauma via their art. (My advanced students are making very moving work.) It’s heartening to see that I am holding a space and giving them a platform for personal expression. 

On the other hand, what used to be an every-once-in-a-while excuse has become the norm: late assignments, scheduling errors and missed meetings are the result of feeling ill, a family member in the hospital, metal health issues, concern for safety, a plumbing issue in an apartment.

I have so many ideas on this subject, so if you’re interested in talking college teaching and trauma informed pedagogy, Id love other from you. To keep this short, here are thoughts related to my own methods of coping:

 Over many years of teaching, when faced with a room full of 18 year olds with worry and anxiety, I have responded like this: given them a space to speak their minds, acknowledged and validated their feelings, offered some insight, and then gently urged them to pour their energy into their work. 

It’s proven that physical activity—particularly movement that brings our attention to both our bodies and something outside ourselves at the same time—can help repair the effects of trauma. 

The physical action of making art is naturally an activity that demands we pay attention to both internal and external stimuli. Artists know this without necessarily knowing it. Artists are aware that they synthesize their experience in the world through making art. In my own life, I have relied on my studio practice in challenging times.

I hope I can continue to pass this resource along to the young people I work with.