Letting the Brush Hold My Guilt and Regret

I didn't sit down to make a "good" painting. I sat down because I was overwhelmed with guilt, regret, and sadness. With no plan and no idea what to paint, I let my emotions guide my brush and discovered how painting can become a form of meditation.

I felt intense sadness and helplessness, mixed with guilt and anger. The emotions were overpowering and all-consuming. My usual response in those moments would be to bury the feelings deep down or buffer them with unhealthy habits. This time, I decided to sit in front of my easel instead.

I didn’t know what I was going to paint. I chose a color—dark and heavy—and let the strokes follow. Before I knew it, I found myself painting a figure. I replayed the emotions in my mind as stroke followed stroke, dark color after dark color.

Then I sprayed the painting with water and watched the colors run down the page like tears. At that point, I stepped back and started to see what was missing. I began adding new colors. As more colors emerged, they became brighter and lighter—and so did my mood.

By the end, I no longer felt so overwhelmed and tired. I felt more at peace with the original emotions. They had moved through me and resulted in this painting. I’m still not sure what I think of it—whether I like it or not, or whether it will ever make it onto a gallery wall. Will someone like it, want it, or see their own healing in it?

Whether or not this piece ever hangs in a gallery, it matters to me. It is proof that my brush can hold what feels too heavy for my mind to carry alone.