Portfolio for Art Psychotherapy MA
Reflections on
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Chronological order: begin from top left
This was my breakthrough in life drawing. On the day of this session, I felt extremely upset and emotional. For the first time, I “let go” and painted intuitively. Instead of striving for realism and accuracy, I focused on different parts of the model and layered them. I believed that, since I was drawing from life, any line, shape, or form I created would naturally feel organic. Having always worked in small formats, drawing on such a large sheet was a new and liberating experience.
I continued exploring gouache as a way to express deep and raw emotions. At this time, I was facing great uncertainty about my job. I chose two complementary colours for the session, enjoying the contrast they created. My art teacher praised my progress — something I never expected, as I had doubted I could create abstract work. Hearing their comments moved me so much that I cried at the end of the session.
In this piece I felt more comfortable and confident in creative drawing. I particularly enjoyed experimenting with different consistencies of colour. As my life situation became a little more stable, I noticed the work carried a lighter, more joyful feeling. I often drew without looking at the paper, to avoid becoming “too careful.”
This was my final session of Life Drawing at the Royal Drawing School. I began with charcoal, sketching multiple figures and then smudging them with a large dry brush and by hand. I added dry pastel and ink for contrast, and finally layered gouache for colour. I especially enjoyed focusing on the negative spaces created by the model, filling them with patches of colour.
I took part in a two-week intensive course with a private teacher. In the mornings we worked with a life model, and in the afternoons I continued without one. This was challenging, as I had to rely on memory and imagination. I made quick sketches in another sketchbook to help recall poses. In this piece, I even drew partly with my eyes closed, trying to capture the body and the feeling of the model.
After a long morning of life drawing, my teacher urged me to “let go,” “do something different,” and “give up what you know.” This piece was completed in about five minutes. I allowed my emotions to take over, using large charcoal sticks to make spontaneous marks. By alternating bold, heavy forms with intense lines, I created an expressive and impactful drawing.
This piece was drawn from a model. I began with charcoal smudges and light washes of ink, gradually building intensity by focusing on specific parts of the body. The two large black patches in the bottom left represent the model’s knees. I love how this drawing feels balanced and conveys a sense of space.
I started this piece with the model present, and completed it in the afternoon without one. I experimented with fluorescent orange, which was difficult to balance, but later introduced dark tones and white to achieve contrast and stronger forms. I enjoy the lively and energetic feeling of this work — it feels dynamic and full of life.
I painted this near the end of the intensive course. The work began with yellow and green, these layers are now mostly hidden. I was unhappy with the result, as I prefer to have a clear idea of what a work will look like. My teacher encouraged me to keep going and searching until something emerged. The process mirrored my fear of uncertainty and of feeling lost in life. After working on it all afternoon, I finally decided to stop. The result, though challenging, carries complex emotions.
This drawing is based on my observation of burning sage. I watched the smoke rise and vanish, and even used the smouldering sage stick as a drawing tool, so that the work contains the sage itself. The swirls represent my struggles and worries, which I hoped would burn away with the smoke. Ironically, I ended up with an asthma attack afterwards due to the excessive inhalation.
Here I drew my orchid plant. Instead of creating a botanical-style realistic drawing, I wanted to capture the essence of the plant. I spent five minutes just observing it from different angles, then drew in a deconstructed way, often without looking at the paper. The marks feel like impressions of the plant rather than its exact form. The result is a plant that seems to dance.
This was my first attempt at self-directed art therapy. I have always had a very close bond with my grandmother, who passed away during COVID three years ago. Due to travel restrictions, I could not be with her in her final days. Outwardly I seemed fine, but I realised I had not fully healed. Using old photographs, I drew us together. I cried throughout the process, and repeated it several times with different materials. I felt lighter and less tearful when thinking of her.
Reflections on
Art within a healing context
Art has always carried the potential to heal. Both the act of making art and the act of looking at it can help us face emotions, connect with ourselves, and even change how we relate to others. In this reflection, I explore how art supports healing through expression, meditation, sensory experience, relationships, therapeutic dialogue, and aesthetic encounter.
Making Art
Emotions and experiences, particularly those linked to trauma, are often stored in the body and unconscious mind. This helps explain why someone experiencing depression may struggle to articulate what is wrong. Like the submerged part of an iceberg, hidden feelings can overwhelm us and affect our wellbeing. Image-making allows these emotions to surface, where they can be acknowledged and understood. In this sense, art itself becomes therapy. Even outside formal sessions, the act of creating can open doors to healing. For example, when I drew my grandmother, grief I had held inside finally found expression. I cried throughout the process, yet what mattered was not the finished image but the release it made possible.
For me, making art is akin to soul-searching. It requires us to relinquish control and question not only what we think we know, but also what society tells us is beautiful. In this way, art resembles dreams: often illogical on the surface, yet revealing truths that bypass rational explanation. To “let go” in art is to surrender to instinct and sensory experience. Though challenging, each attempt brings transformation and a closer connection to one’s authentic self. Teachers can guide us, but the journey of finding one’s artistic voice is ultimately personal. Trusting the process of artmaking can extend into life, fostering greater self-trust and liberation.
Furthermore, consistent research has shown the efficacy of art therapy across multiple contexts. Systematic reviews and meta-analyses demonstrate that art therapy is effective in supporting treatment and wellbeing for conditions such as acute illnesses, cancer, dementia, autism, PTSD, depression, and bereavement, among others, highlighting its value as a versatile therapeutic tool.
Art in Therapy
Within a therapeutic context, artmaking takes on additional layers of meaning. A trained art psychotherapist can help clients explore the symbolic content and unconscious material expressed in their images. By reflecting on their own artwork, clients begin to bring what was previously hidden into conscious awareness. This process can reveal patterns, conflicts, or insights that words alone might struggle to capture. When clients articulate their own meanings and associations, they strengthen their capacity for self-trust and self-understanding. At the same time, the therapist’s perspective provides a mirroring function: helping clients see aspects of themselves from another vantage point, while still holding space for the client’s unique interpretation. This dialogue between image, client, and therapist can create profound opportunities for healing and integration.
Art as Meditation
Art can also feel like meditation. When drawing from life or from nature, it requires focus and close observation. Paying attention to things we normally ignore becomes calming in itself. Almost everyone has drawn a tree, but how many have stared long enough to notice how the trunk connects to the branches, or how leaves form patterns without needing to be drawn one by one? When I look so closely, I feel grounded, even in awe. We often rush past beauty without noticing it. Art slows us down, sharpens observation, and deepens our appreciation of the world.
Art as Somatic Experience
Art is also physical. The textures of clay, paper, paint, or yarn connect directly with our senses. Even the sounds — charcoal scratching on paper, brushes swishing in water, knitting needles clicking — become part of the experience. These small details are grounding. They bring the body into the process and create a space where healing feels real and tangible.
Relational Context
Relationship is central to the art-making process. Sometimes the artist is both creator and audience, making art as a dialogue within oneself. Other times, art becomes a bridge to others. What the artist intends and what the viewer sees may be different, but this difference itself creates a connection. It opens dialogue, invites co-creation, and allows new meaning to emerge. In a therapeutic setting, this relational space can be transformative.
Viewing Art
Healing also comes from looking at art. Studies show that viewing art can lower stress levels, even blood pressure and heart rate. Patients in hospitals, for instance, have been shown to recover faster when surrounded by images of nature.
But beyond science, art has the power to move us. Sometimes it communicates what cannot be put into words. A painting can touch something deep inside and make us feel understood, even by someone who lived centuries ago. Edward Hopper once remarked, “If I could say it in words there would be no reason to paint.”
Some works of art also remind us of the vastness of life. They put our own struggles into perspective, showing us that we are momentary and mortal. This can feel solemn, but also consoling. Art can give us hope, peace, or a sense of redemption. It can help us to accept the natural order of things and still find meaning.
Conclusion
Art heals in many ways. Creating art helps release hidden feelings, encourages us to trust ourselves, and sharpens our awareness. It can be meditative, sensory, and relational. In therapy, it can reveal unconscious truths and strengthen self-understanding. Looking at art, too, can soothe, inspire, and remind us of the beauty and fragility of life. Whether through making or viewing, art offers a way to face what is inside us and connect to something larger. It is not only about aesthetics, but about becoming more fully human.
Relational change, within the context of relational therapy, refers to the transformation that occurs through the empathic connection between client and therapist (DeYoung, 2015). Image-making can be a powerful tool to support and enhance the qualities that underpin this therapeutic relationship. Using the framework suggested by Finlay (2025), image-making can strengthen the therapeutic bond and facilitate meaningful client outcomes.
Being Respectful and Non-Judgemental
Many clients approach image-making with anxiety or self-consciousness, particularly if they believe themselves “uncreative.” By encouraging exploration rather than correctness, therapists can create a space free from fear of failure. Abstract or non-representational approaches often help reduce performance pressure, allowing clients to relax into the process. Crucially, the therapist must withhold aesthetic judgement and offer unconditional positive regard, focusing on the client’s engagement rather than the product. Over time, this respectful stance fosters self-acceptance and strengthens trust within the therapeutic relationship. Flexibility remains essential, however, as some adults may resist artmaking altogether, requiring sensitive adaptation.
Presence
Therapeutic presence allows clients to feel seen and valued. In art psychotherapy, the therapist may participate alongside the client as an active co-creator rather than a passive observer. Through attentive engagement—mirroring the client’s expressions, noticing emotional shifts, and reflecting on their artwork—the therapist demonstrates grounding and validation. Following image creation, clients are empowered to interpret their own work, developing confidence in their insights. The co-creation aspect, however, requires careful management; therapists must avoid imposing their own aesthetic or emotional interpretation, which could blur boundaries or inhibit authentic client expression.
Empathy, Compassion, and Attunement
Empathic attunement supports clients in developing self-compassion and emotional regulation (Finlay, 2025). Many clients struggle to verbalise trauma or distress. Image-making provides an additional communication channel, enabling therapists to gain insights into the client’s unconscious experiences. Through observation and dialogue, therapists can empathically enter the client’s perspective, fostering a co-created understanding. For instance, a client producing jagged lines in response to anxiety may be invited to describe the feelings these lines evoke, promoting self-awareness and reflection. Nevertheless, relational theory emphasises that empathic attunement facilitates but does not guarantee relational change; therapy outcomes depend on multiple factors, including client readiness and context.
Therapist as “Container”
In art psychotherapy, the therapist often functions as a container — providing a structured and secure space where overwhelming emotions can be safely held. By externalising intense experiences into visual form, clients gain distance and perspective. For instance, expressing anger or fear through bold marks allows for release without immediate risk of retraumatisation. Alternatively, creating a calm image, such as a landscape, may help restore emotional balance. For clients with severe trauma or dissociation, pacing and grounding techniques are vital to prevent overwhelm. The therapist’s role in maintaining safety, containment, and emotional regulation is therefore central to the healing potential of image-making.
Relational Depth
Relational depth refers to a profound, authentic connection between therapist and client. Image-making encourages vulnerability, as clients explore personal expression without conventional art constraints. Sharing this creative process allows therapists to witness and support the client’s openness, deepening trust and facilitating growth. For example, a client who usually avoids personal disclosure may reveal emotions through colours or forms, allowing the therapist to attune and respond empathically. This intimacy enhances the potential for healing and transformation within the therapeutic relationship.
Expanding the Definition of Relational Change
Relational change extends beyond the client-therapist dyad. It can involve the client’s relationship with themselves, past experiences, or unresolved trauma. Image-making enables clients to untangle complex emotional patterns, access unconscious material, and verbalise previously difficult experiences, laying the groundwork for further therapeutic exploration.
Relational change also includes the client’s relationship with family and friends. For children or individuals with limited verbal communication, shared engagement in art-making helps loved ones understand the client’s inner world and fosters connection. Collaborative projects, such as murals or collective collages in schools, extend this to society and community, promoting social engagement, belonging, and shared meaning.
Finally, image-making can enhance the client’s relationship with their environment. Drawing from daily objects or natural surroundings encourages noticing beauty in the ordinary, fostering gratitude and mindfulness. Representing elements such as a flower on a windowsill or a park scene can support wellbeing and relational awareness.
Considerations and Limitations
It is essential to recognise that image-making may not suit every client. Some adults may resist visual expression due to perceived lack of creativity. Clients with physical disabilities or conditions limiting certain art forms may require alternative modalities, such as tactile clay or music therapy. Additionally, while relational theory highlights the potential of empathic attunement and image-making, it does not guarantee relational change. Comparative perspectives, including cognitive-behavioural or psychodynamic approaches, may offer alternative means for clients who respond differently to expressive arts.
Conclusion
Image-making can facilitate relational change across multiple dimensions: within the therapeutic relationship, with the self, with loved ones, within community contexts, and in relation to the environment. By supporting presence, empathy, attunement, containment, and relational depth, art-making encourages exploration, self-expression, and growth. Clients can externalise and process emotions, gain insight into their inner world, and enhance connection to others. While not universally suitable, image-making represents a flexible and accessible method for relational and emotional transformation, demonstrating its value as a therapeutic tool.
Reflections on
The use of image-making to facilitate relational change
Reflections on
Aesthetics and how aesthetics are shaped by cultural, ethnic and indigenous context
Aesthetics is traditionally defined as the branch of philosophy concerned with beauty, art, and taste. The word originates from the Greek aisthesis, meaning sensory and perceptual experience. It encompasses not only tangible objects (a painting, a crafted pot) but also intangible experiences (the pleasure of listening to music, the awe of seeing a landscape). Crucially, aesthetics extends beyond “beauty” alone: it includes emotions such as the sublime, reverence, unease, or even boredom.
Philosophers and artists have long debated whether aesthetic value is universal or culturally determined. Ideas such as the golden ratio or colour harmonies suggest recurring features many people find pleasing. Yet what counts as beautiful, meaningful, or moving is never neutral — it is shaped by cultural, ethnic, and indigenous contexts. This reflection explores how aesthetics is shaped by such contexts, and why that awareness matters for engaging with art in a diverse and interconnected world.
To understand how cultural, ethnic, and indigenous contexts shape our sense of the aesthetic, it is useful to revisit some key theories that have framed aesthetic experience.
Theoretical Foundations
Immanuel Kant proposed four features of aesthetic judgement: it is subjective (rooted in feeling), yet universal (we expect others to agree), disinterested (not tied to utility), and necessary (it feels inevitable). Later thinkers challenged this abstraction. John Dewey, for instance, argued that aesthetics should be understood as lived experience, integrated into everyday life rather than isolated. Indigenous epistemologies also resist neat separation: beauty is often holistic, spiritual, and relational, inseparable from ritual, land, and community.
Such perspectives highlight that aesthetics cannot be treated as fixed or universal. Instead, it is context-dependent and relational, demanding attentiveness to the values, practices, and worldviews from which it emerges.
Cultural Influences on Aesthetics
Cultural traditions profoundly influence what is considered aesthetically meaningful. Colour symbolism offers a clear example: in Chinese culture, white signifies mourning while red embodies joy and celebration; in Western contexts, white is linked to purity and weddings, and red often connotes passion or danger. Similarly, Emily Kam Kngwarray’s paintings, rooted in her Indigenous Australian heritage, are deeply spiritual expressions tied to land and identity. To view such works only through Western categories of form or abstraction risks stripping away their significance. Japanese aesthetics of wabi-sabi also reveal a contrasting philosophy, embracing imperfection, impermanence, and the beauty of weathering. Practices such as kintsugi (repairing broken pottery with gold) challenge Western ideals of polish, symmetry, and perfection.
Indigenous Perspectives
For many indigenous communities, aesthetics cannot be separated from use, spirituality, and identity. Native American basketry, for example, holds cultural, ritual, and ecological significance. Yet when collected and displayed in Western museums, it is often reinterpreted through external criteria such as intricacy. This illustrates both the richness of indigenous aesthetics and the risks of misappropriation.
Acknowledging indigenous perspectives requires moving beyond “appreciating beauty” to understanding how art functions within a community — as ceremony, as storytelling, as survival. To apply only Western notions of aesthetics is to risk silencing these dimensions.
Intersectional and Social Dimensions
Aesthetic values are also shaped by social histories, gender roles, and class. Changing ideals of body shape across cultures and time periods reflect shifting social structures and gendered expectations. In many Eastern traditions, artistry is embedded in everyday life: functional objects such as ceramics, calligraphy, or textiles are deeply valued. By contrast, the Western privileging of “art for art’s sake” has often elevated disinterested contemplation above lived or functional use.
Even institutions such as museums embody this bias: by removing objects from their contexts of use into spaces of display, they risk imposing Western frameworks on artefacts whose meanings were originally relational, spiritual, or practical.
Critical Considerations
While aesthetics is shaped by context, certain patterns may appear cross-cultural. Many people find natural landscapes — sunsets, mountains, water — moving or beautiful. Evolutionary psychology suggests humans may be predisposed to favour symmetry or particular bodily features linked to health. At the same time, globalisation is producing more standardised aesthetics: Hollywood cinema, fashion industries, and digital platforms circulate dominant images of beauty worldwide, which can marginalise or even erase local traditions.
These tensions complicate the study of aesthetics. There may be shared human responses, but they are always mediated through culture, history, and power. To recognise this complexity is not to abandon aesthetics, but to deepen it — to see it as both universal and particular, fragile and evolving.
Conclusion
Aesthetics is never a neutral or universal category; it is always shaped by cultural, ethnic, and indigenous contexts. From colour symbolism to philosophies such as wabi-sabi, aesthetic frameworks reveal particular ways of understanding life, community, and beauty. At the same time, shared human responses — for example, to landscapes or symmetry — suggest possible points of convergence. Globalisation further complicates this picture, amplifying some traditions while erasing others. To engage critically with aesthetics is therefore to ask whose values, voices, and histories are being expressed or silenced. Recognising diverse aesthetic traditions not only enriches dialogue but also fosters humility and deeper appreciation of art’s role in human life.