I think it’s a misnomer that art is always about wellbeing - it’s not, as anyone that has grappled with an artwork knows. Making art can be mentally and physically exhausting, and of course, looking at art isn’t always about pleasure either. But, there are times when engaging with an artwork feels like medicine, at some level, and if we can find ways for ourselves to stay in that space, even just a moment longer, something in us will be soothed.
I don’t think I’m talking about the kind of art which excites or inspires you, but instead I’m thinking of the art which feeds you deep down, at the level of our soul. I’m not sure either, of what is happening in our body physiologically when we are fed by art in this way, but there are neurochemical processes taking place which somehow make us feel good.
“Flood me full of yellow he cried, and so he drank and drank, till happy, fat exuberance sags and gags upon the world.”
Of course finding the images or objects or sounds which feed you isn’t always easy, and that search is for you alone, but once you have followed your intuition and identified what you need to see, and quietened yourself enough to open yourself up, then I’m also interested in how we slow ourselves enough to remain in that sensory space long enough to allow those neural pathways to start to really establish themselves. We all know that “what fires together wires together”, but most of us also know the opposing pull of speed, momentum, distraction, what’s next… all the ways of being which keep pulling us on and on and on and prevent us just from staying in that space which might be good for us.
Choosing The Courtauld Gallery over The National Gallery was a good call last week. There was plenty of space, and no crowding, which meant we could get up close to paintings without feeling like we were being processed. Instead, we could stay as long as we liked with whichever paintings caught our eye, and I found myself trying to practice that skill of staying in a sensory space. When I was an art student in Norwich in the late 80’s I became particularly attached to medieval works - the city is full of them, and perhaps there was something about returning to my art student era that guided me in the Courtauld to paintings made in the 13th and 14th centuries. The world is full of violence, but again these paintings have survived, and even more miraculously, we can still drink in the colours, and respond to the gestural hands and faces on an emotional and haptic level. There is a reassurance in all this. To osmose, to absorb, to drink, to take inwards, and to let something change within, feels vital, and so training ourselves, through practice, to stay in a sensory space, whilst the work is done inside us, feels important.
Another way I have found to stay in a sensory space which feels good for me, is through a hobby which feels indulgent but I’ve figured a way to justify. Wentworth Puzzles* are a UK company who make beautiful wooden puzzles. They are expensive - a 1000 piece puzzle costs over £100**, and even now when I buy one I am flooded with guilt, BUT, I know their value is far, far greater than that to me. Hear me out - here’s why these puzzles have been a game changed for my creativity and wellbeing!
They offer such a sensory experience. You open the box, and then the fabric bag which contains the wooden pieces. The pieces of wood have been laser cut, and the smell which hits you is so reminiscent (for me) of french churches. It takes me straight back to being 21 and visiting churches in Normandy.
The pieces are beautiful; tactile, richly coloured, precise. The shapes are exquisite. They make a beautiful noise as you shift through them in the box. You hold them in your hand and they demand your focus. I frequently stare at pieces, not even trying to fit them in the puzzle, just to stare at them for existing.
They fit together so precisely. The pieces can only go where they are meant to go. I often fit two pieces together, and then purposely take them apart, fit them together again, take them apart, let them fit again. Satisfying, mending, healing.
If you find the right image puzzle, they are beautiful. Yes Wentworth produce lots of brash puzzles, but there are lots of beautiful fine art ones. The feeling of slowing down and existing in the spaces and places painted by artists like Brueghal and Canaletto is exquisite.
As with all puzzles, there is a clear and rewarding sense of mending, of putting back together, creating order out of chaos. That feels good. The puzzles saw me through Trump, Brexit, the Pandemic, Ukraine, and now it seems, through the Israel/Gaza crisis. And more positively, doing these jigsaws buys me time to listen to podcasts, and the ideas in those podcasts feed me creatively. Things have come about as a result of ideas generated whilst doing these puzzles, whilst my mind seemingly feels safe and occupied.
We Invite You…
How do you find ways of loitering longer - staying in sensory spaces which you know are good for you? Please let us know!
You Might Like…
All The Beauty In The World By Patrick Bringley
‘In the stillness, my mind was able to wander’: how a museum guard found solace in art, The Guardian
Please Note:
*This post is not written to promote Wentworth Wooden Puzzles!
**The second hand market for these puzzles is good - so you can buy a puzzle, have hours of calm satisfaction doing the puzzle, and sell it (if you can bear to part with it) on Ebay for only a few pounds less than you paid. I also justify them by thinking that bottles of wine and meals out disappear, but these items remain.
If you can’t get to a gallery, or buy a puzzle, please do remember sites like Raw Pixel and Google Arts & Culture (amongst many others) provide you with online access to art of all kinds which you can “drink in.”