On Comfort Through Art

by Zarin Tasnim

At a time filled with uncertainty, art gives me comfort. Growing up, creating art, whether it was through paintings, sculptures, collages, poems, and stories, brought on a great sense of comfort. Being able to express my thoughts which were sometimes messy, incoherent, and emotional, in a blank page or canvas felt good. Art is a hobby of mine; there are no deadlines or word limits, no expectations or criticisms, I can just create. Sometimes, my paintings are composed of bold strokes, vibrant colours, and eccentric patterns, to evoke a sense of curiosity and wonder. Sometimes, I think of painful moments, about losses and defeat, nostalgia and fear in big washes of blues and blacks.

The first week of lockdown was a difficult time for me. I felt confined and uninspired. It seemed like the world, once spinning and bursting with life, came to a sudden halt. Even though, through the internet and social media, I was able to talk to my friends and loved ones, there was a lingering sense of disconnection. I lied down on my bed and stared at the ceiling, unable to sleep because I was worried: about the people who were battling for their life in hospitals, about those who were in isolation, away from their family and friends, and about how we can get through this.

It had been a while since I had the time to get creative. One night, I pulled out my paints from under my bed, filled up a few jars with water, and got my paint brushes ready. I took some time to browse Instagram and Tumblr to see if I can come across anything that inspired me. During my search, I noticed how the restless energy I had once felt before was simmering down. I felt more conscious and clear headed.

I carefully prepared my palette, some blues and yellows, and began to paint. At first, it was difficult to let myself relax and worry less about an end product. As scholars, we’re all fuelled by the desire to finish something. To finally close all of our tabs of research articles and academic sources we’ve opened on our browser, to type in that last word and hit submit, and to feel the satisfaction that comes with the end of a project. For me however, the artistic process, to watch how the colours mix together, to make mistakes and learn how I could improve, to just simply create, is important. 

Although sometimes even if I sit at my desk for hours, nothing compels me to paint or write. Recently, I found myself starting painting projects but never having the energy or motivation to complete them. I felt frustrated and annoyed: how can I practice self care if I’m unable to do the one thing that gives me comfort? 

So, I did what I do best when I’m confused and lost: research. I came across videos and books about how artists experience and eventually recover from art blocks. There are periods of time when nothing feels right, when there’s no driving force to create, and no source of inspiration. I think perhaps a lot of people during this pandemic feel this way. They were once excited about future plans, but now everything seems meaningless. However, I noticed how artists work through these times when they feel unmotivated and unsure: they reach out to other artists, they remind themselves about how it wasn’t creating something perfect that made them fall in love with art, but rather, it was through the act of being able to express yourself and your thoughts through a wide array of mediums. 

Maybe we all need to find something that brings us back to the present. Maybe we need to focus on how we write, or cook, or teach, or create, rather than the finished product. While I was working on the paper recently, I tried to focus on the process of it all. I noticed how certain authors analyze, I noticed their methodologies, and I noticed the level of attention and care that goes on producing an academic article. When I was finally finished, I realized how much I’d improved from when I was an undergrad and how much I still have to learn. The future is unclear and hazy. There are so many things we do not know at this point. I find that when I focus on the present, a great wave of comfort washes over me. I’m not focused on the goal because I let myself, even for a brief moment, enjoy the process.