Why “I can’t draw” is a good thing.

"I can't draw."

I hear that a lot from people. I used to hear that a lot from myself. For decades. I made a lot of art, but it was all abstract or stylised because I couldn't draw "real" things.

It was true that I couldn't draw, but only because I hadn't learned how yet.

Learning to draw is like learning to read - when you've learned the letters and the basics of grammar, you can read whatever you want. When you've learned the basic principles of drawing, you can draw whatever you like.

Like learning to read, drawing is hard at the start. And it requires practice. But it is a skill that can be learned. I taught myself out of a book (it's called Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain, by Betty Edwards, if you're curious, and I highly recommend it).

But, I became an art therapist before I knew how to draw. I think this worked in my favour, because I already knew I couldn't draw, so I wasn't hung up on trying to make things perfect. I was just delighting in making a mess (which is actually why I enrolled in an art therapy qualification in the first place - it looked like a place where I just got to make a creative mess while learning some cool stuff. And it was).

I find it hard to describe what art therapy is, because it's experiential. I usually fall back on "kind of like counselling, but with creative expression as well as talking (or instead of, sometimes)".

And it is kind of like that.

But it's also like play. What if you closed your eyes? What if you used your wrong hand? What if you cut a hole in it? What if it could talk to you?

And it's also like finding a place beyond words, and expressing yourself from that place. If you had to draw sadness, what would it look like? If you're feeling something you have no words for, how might you express that?

And it's also like resting, in a creative flow state. In a creative flow, there is no time. There's no 'next'. There's only now, and now, and now. Thought drops away, and given we spend so much time with our busy, thinking minds, this often feels like such a relief.

And it's also like being surprised - where did that come from? I have a new idea! I thought I was drawing a castle but actually it's a hug. I thought this drawing was about anxiety and insomnia and that's how it started, but now it's actually about wanting to buy a little boat and sail around a bunch of pretty islands and have adventures with a talking parrot who swears a lot.

And it's also like a wonderful lesson in letting go of the destination and letting yourself become absorbed by the journey. This line. This colour. This feeling.

And it's also like accessing a deep well of magic that's always there, but harder to touch in your ordinary waking state. Creative expression is closer to your subconscious mind, and there's so much gold in there to be found.

And more. So much more.

This year marks TEN YEARS of me being an art therapist (how on earth did that happen?), so I'm getting all dreamy and reflecting on how much I love it. I hope that you'll give it a try, and that you'll love it, too.

You don't need to know how to draw.

A nice place to start is the online therapeutic art group run by my good friend and art therapist colleague Rose and I - it's a friendly creative space where we do a different art process each time. We usually ask people to share how they're feeling in one word at the end, and the words are always ones like happy, peaceful, spacious, calm, pleased, settled, curious…

We'd love to see you there if you felt like joining us.

Click here to see what arty adventures we’re up to in the next group, and to book your spot.