The Nurses Guild Art Gallery

Art for me is more about the process than the end product, just as healing is a process that doesn’t necessarily birth an ending. We are never really fully healed. However, we are in the constant pursuit of healing.

I’ve always been drawn to various art forms for as long as I can remember. My earliest memories are of me hunched over my old HP desktop computer typing long stories in Microsoft Word with aspirations to write a novel. I dipped my toes in many different art forms I painted, I made jewelry and hair pins, I dabbled in wood work, I sewed and even made clothes I still wear today. I come from a long lineage of makers and artisans. Creativity and art is in my blood.

With the passing of time, the focus of my life was consumed by school work, work-work, life and then kids. While my parents somewhat supported my endeavors to be creative by supplying me with money and transportation to Michael’s, it was always understood to be just a hobby. As a daughter of immigrant Asian parents, I knew my parents expected me to study something science-y and somewhat lucrative. Like a good daughter, I kept my head down, studied hard and worked to achieve these goals.

In high school, I took my first ceramics class. To say I was in love would be an understatement – I was obsessed! I loved the way the clay felt in my hands, I loved being able to manipulate a blob of dirt – essentially, into something beautiful. I loved the quiet my brain felt as it molded balls of clay into beautiful vessels on the potter’s wheel. This was it, this was my medium of choice. However, anyone who has ever worked with clay knows how expensive it is to be a ceramicist. For a long time, ceramics sat in the back of my head and heart as this beautiful art medium that was out of my reach.

During my college years, I kept a busy schedule. I changed my major a number of times until I finally landed on Nursing. I was involved in on-campus organizations, activism work and my job as an after school tutor for inner city high school students. The N-CLEX came quickly and soon after, so did working my first job as a nurse in acute care. I met my husband shortly after and life just took over. Before I knew it, I wasn’t creating as much as I used to. I knew something was missing, but I just couldn’t put my finger on it.

Fast forward to motherhood, I found myself drowning in being a caregiver to humans who weren’t my patients. My husband was in residency and I made the choice to stay home with my children while COVID was happening. I was grieving the loss of my career and searching for purpose, as if raising the next generation wasn’t purpose enough. I was losing my mind. Somehow, though, I remembered this huge Rubbermaid bin in my basement that was chock full of art supplies – canvases, paints, brushes, fabric scraps, glue, rhinestones, googly eyes and other random “craft junk” as my husband would call it. I brought the box upstairs and my children and I went to town creating, there were no rules – “just make something,” I told them. I was immersed, and though the “art” I created was anything but beautiful, the experience was a masterpiece. The act of creating calmed me and centered me. It was grounding.

Recently, my second son was diagnosed with ADHD after a rough year in second grade and numerous very dangerous situations he put himself in. I knew though, for our family medication was not the option. While his ADHD hinders him from leading a “normal” productive life, it isn’t incapacitating and so, I researched different ways to help him thrive. Right away we cut out junk food including artificial sweeteners, processed foods and dyes. I immediately noticed improvement in his ability to function. Through my research on ADHD, I learned that there was a high possibility that I may also have ADHD, though not diagnosed. When I look back at my life and my lack of executive function, I realized that I always resorted to focussing on something artistic. Whether it was binge-watching Youtube videos of people creating things or diving head on into a creative piece of work myself, I always chose art over any other aspect of life.

One day, I sat with this idea, ironically, while hunched over a ball of clay on my potter’s wheel. Why did I love this so much? Why would I rather play with mud than wash the dishes? It hit me like a train! I loved art because it allowed me to quiet my brain. When I was focused on my art, time would fly by, I would not stress about the many things I had to do as a mother. My brain wasn’t cluttered. I could think clearly. It was the light bulb I needed to help my son. I started taking him down in my studio while I would create and hand him a ball of clay. He started off being really puzzled and would ask me “what am I supposed to do with this?” I would respond with a smile “just play with it.” Initially, this would bore him very quickly and what he created would be a smooshed piece of clay. It didn’t matter to me. I would fire it and allow him to glaze it and it became this beautiful glass-covered art that he created. There is no shortage of ceramic paper weights in our home. As time went by, he would ask me to teach him how to make a cup or a bowl and I would oblige. Soon the 10 minutes he would spend in the studio would become a couple hours. His time in the studio was the only time I have ever seen him sit still outside of watching T.V. He was quiet and focused. Most importantly, he felt power in being able to create something beautiful.

My son often says to me that his brain feels like a bunch of wires firing information, but they’re all tangled. I know exactly what he means and I am so glad I was able to help him quiet the noise, even if for just a short while. My goal is to gain my Holistic Nursing Certification and take my work with art and healing to my community to help children like my son and adults like myself find joy and healing though art and movement.