"In February of this year (1998), my 15 year-old son died of a self-inflicted gun wound to the head.

"Actually that sounds much too sterile. What really happened was that my precious son whom I loved and adored shot himself through his genius brain; there was blood everywhere.  My 12 year-old son found him and led me to the horrific scene.  Our lives were shattered and left in fragmented pieces by the bullet.

"In the days and weeks following, my grief was so overwhelming I felt I would explode!

"Needing a 'pressure valve' I journaled, devoured grief books, threw tantrums, cried, vented with friends, grasped at Scriptures, yelled and cried out to my God. 

"The pressure inside continued to build.

"An artist friend of mine, Julie Bergeron, had drawn some incredible pictures expressing her pain.  One day at Bible study I confronted her: "Does one have to be artistic to find art as an expression of pain?"  She seemed unsure but didn't think so, and offered to work one-on-one with me.

"The original plan was that she was going to draw and I was going to tell her what to draw.  We put on some soothing music that I had found helpful and began.  Five minutes into our first session I found myself grabbing the paint brush from her.  I splattered, I darkened colors, I drew cracks and breaks and black holes.  It was an ugly picture.  But after crying and explaining I found myself smiling for the first time in weeks.

"We had few basic ground rules -- the primary one being that we left talent literally "out of the pictures" -- which took off any and all performance pressure.

"I found art therapy unique in that I was getting my grief outside where I could see it.  As I did so, it became diminished inside of me.

"Entering into the 'doldrums' stage of grief I found I had no energy or motivation for journaling, reading, social interaction, etc.  But I wouldn't and couldn't quit my art therapy. I was addicted and it became my one priority each week.

"As I painted I frequently found myself changing the picture.  In the beginning it was usually darkening; making my hair messy; adding more lightening strikes, etc. 

"The weeks progressed into months.  I saw changes in my painting that reflected the change in myself.  I was amazed at this hopeful sign -- maybe I was destined to heal!  My pictures lightened up, my hair was less mangled.  Someone besides me or me & Jesus was included in the picture.  My barren plants were getting leaves.  Friends could assure me that I was progressing, but the art was visual evidence to me.

"One month to the day of my son's death a close neighbor's 12 year-old daughter was killed in a car accident and our group grew.

"As we painted, laughed, cried and assured each other of our sanity our therapy grew beyond 'just art.'

"Another amazing benefit is that despite leaving talent out of it-, my talents are growing.  I have one picture that may even be frameable (for a basement room, anyway ...)!"

~ Lynda ~

(Click on the pictures to see a larger image)

Face Therapy Painting Described

God Heals through Art

Lynda's Story

Psalms 9:9

Back to previous page