The Healing Arts | Laura

Diane Skinner - Healing Artist

Art is an amazing thing. It has the power to open discussion, it has the power to make you gasp in awe unable to speak. Art makes us feel; good bad or indifferent, we feel. I have always maintained that it is the intent of the artist that radiates from the work, long after the work is created. It often has unexplained power. I know that to be true. I witnessed it.

We were only slated to stay in Idyllwild for a single night. A stop-over in the beautiful mountains on the way to our big adventure. Anne was excited to see her longtime friend Joy, but we couldn't stay long 

because her sister was flying in the next day. I'm not sure when the idea of art lessons came up, but the morning of the Artist's arrival we were not packing the car to leave.

Diane Skinner is the sister of our gracious hostess. "Why don't you stay to meet her?" "You'll love her, AND we can all have art lessons!"  Well just twist my arm there Joy, really. And what's just one more day? We are on a road trip, after all.

She arrived and we went straight to work. All of us were excited to get creating. But as we worked a bigger picture began to unfold. Bit by bit as we sketched and she spoke the story of her works, it was clear this was no ordinary art. Diane's son was the victim of a violent and senseless tragedy. Remaining unsolved for many years, it left her with deep unseen wounds. No gauze or cast could mend what was broken. 

In my world of photography there is a tool in Photoshop called a "Healing Brush" to remove blemishes and wounds. As her story unfolded it was clear that the term "Healing Brush" was not confined to my digital world. Art is healing. It helps the artist express the feelings when the words aren't able. As we paint (or sketch or sing or dance or whatever our own individual art form) the wounds transform. They are never gone, but maybe a bit smoother, less sharp, with a patina. 

This art evoked feeling, it made us speak of things unspeakable and at times left us speechless in awe. But it was always transformative. We all felt the brush of healing. 

 

"Ascending to Air" by Diane Skinner  After the loss, she felt like she couldn't breathe... until she painted.

 

 

Left: Joy's work, Middle: My dabbling, Right: Anne's piece.