Graham Greene

"Writing is a form of therapy; sometimes I wonder how all those who do not write, compose, or paint can manage to escape the madness, melancholia, the panic and fear which is inherent in a human situation."

— Graham Greene

British Novelist

1904 - 1991

Have you ever thought of your writing or your painting as a form of therapy, as a way to help you through the challenges you face in life with at least a part of your sanity?  This goes to the heart of who do we create for?  Ourselves or others?  I think the answer for the most part is ourselves.  If we write what others want us to write or paint what others want us to paint, I think we hurt ourselves more than help ourselves.  We all have demons in our lives that we must work through.  For some it is their childhood.  For others it is the death of someone they loved dearly.  For others it is the spiritual doubts they have.  Creating works of art helps us cope with the pain that is at the heart of our lives.  It helps us face the fears that try to force us into hiding.  It helps us to keep the madness at bay for a little while.

Vincent Van Gogh

Self-Portrait

1889

"If you hear a voice within you say, 'You cannot paint,' then by all means paint and that voice will be silenced."

— Vincent van Gogh

Dutch Painter

1853 - 1890

Most of us have a voice inside that plants seeds of doubt in our hearts.  "You can't paint.  You can't write.  You can't draw.  You can't speak.  You can't sing...."  The list goes on and on.  Today we call it self-talk.  One expert says that 75% of what we say to ourselves is negative.   We need to silence that negative voice by proving him wrong.  Don't listen to that negative voice that is determined to make you fail.  Keep writing.  Keep painting.  Keep drawing.

When I teach people how to be better speakers, I talk about that second voice sitting on their shoulders.  When I first started speaking, I heard two voices — the one coming out of my mouth and the one sitting on my shoulder.  The one was positive and upbeat.  The second was nervous and negative.  The more often I spoke, the less vocal the second voice became.  Today I rarely hear that negative voice.  And when I do, I give him a quick kick and he is gone.

And the same is true of my writing.  I used to hear the voice of doubt shouting in my ear.  Today, I can barely hear him mumble.  And when he does appear, he is skin and bones and dressed in rags.  Soon he will be homeless.

The First Steps, After Jean Francis Millet

(January 1890)

I have written two poems in response to this painting, The First Steps, by Van Gogh:  A Father's Dream from the point of view of the father and A Mother's Grief from the point of view of the mother.  Just click on the titles.