Art Speaks: and introduction to trauma and art therapy
- May 13
- 6 min read
Let's face it, traumatic events are hard to talk about. Linear language often fails to really convey traumatic experiences, and sometimes just thinking about talking can be enough to want to run in hide. More honestly, traumatic experiences get expressed through the body: in sensations, emotions, fragmented memories, and patterns of survival that are impossible to understand, nevermind explain. Many people arrive in therapy worrying that they must be able to clearly articulate what happened, why it happened, or how they feel about it in order to heal. But trauma does not respond to logic alone.
And the truth of the matter is, our current world is a traumatic one. We're being exposed to news stories, images, and events constantly that traumatize our internal worlds. We're existing in systems that are inherently traumatic (I'm looking at you, modern medicine, and you too, social housing). So what do we do with all of that experience that is so hard to talk about? Whether its historical, overt abuse, or a more present overwhelming sense of dread, outlets are needed for sharing, processing, and expelling all that we are holding inside, in secret.
This is one of the reasons artmaking can feel so powerful.
Artmaking offers access to a soulful, not logical, language - a way of expressing experiences that may never have had words to begin with. Through colour, movement, texture, shape, and intuitive mark-making, emotions emerge safely and organically, without pressure to explain or justify them. The brain can take a break. It can stop searching for the "why," for the carefully constructed sentence that simultaneously conveys the impact of the experience while remaining coherent. Following a creative path of expression can be a real relief. The nervous system no longer has to work so hard to translate pain into nice, neat sentences before it can be witnessed.

In trauma work, healing is often less about finding the perfect explanation and more about creating a safe environment for messy, honest expression. Artmaking allows this expression to happen in ways that are embodied rather than purely intellectual. From a neuroscience perspective, we know that trauma affects areas of the brain connected to language, memory, and emotional regulation. This makes talking about it physiologically difficult - it's not just that you can't figure it out, but that your brain is actually short-circuting. The more you try to say and fail, the more the cycle keeps perpetuating itself.
Art therapy works differently because it does not rely solely on verbal processing. Through image-making, emotions and internal experiences can be externalised visually and physically, somatically and intuitively. Something once held internally, often silently, begins to take form outside of the body. No longer relying on the executive function areas of the brain compromised by trauma, the exploration takes a new form. This can actually physically help rewire the brain, so words can come back more over time. But starting with talking can be like running an Iron Man as your first marathon - it's a set up. Creative, safe spaces allow a gentle entry where skills can develop, feelings can be metabolized, and safety can be restored.
Importantly, this kind of healing is not dependent on artistic skill. Art therapy isn’t concerned with creating something aesthetically pleasing. I don't always love the word "art" - it carries with it a certain stigma. Like there will be some kind of evaluation process of the "artwork" and the aesthetic of it. In an art therapy session, the focus is not on producing a “good” piece of art, but on allowing the process itself to become meaningful. Making, tearing, burning, splashing - exploring different materials and how the feel, smell, sound - following impulse without editing... this is more the real truth of how art therapy gives trauma a different way of speaking.
This is why abstract and intuitive artforms can be so impactful in trauma therapy. Working with colour, repetitive marks, layering, movement, or non-representational imagery removes the pressure to create something perfect or understandable, or even "finished." The artwork doesn't need to make logical sense to hold emotional truth.
The artwork says:
“This happened.”
“This feeling exists.”
“This part of me deserves space.”

Learned trauma responses also leave us highly self-critical, hypervigilant, perfectionistic, or disconnected from our instincts. In many areas of life, people are taught to override emotion in favour of productivity, composure, or rationality. To stay safe, we must assess, assess, assess, and meet the needs of those around us to stay out of danger. Intuitive artmaking gently interrupts this pattern. It invites you to respond rather than perform. To feel rather than explain. To create without needing to know why.
Often, insight comes afterwards. This is where a therapist/guide can be an asset. Humans need both expression and meaning-making to have a holistic experience of integrating understanding. So is there talking in art therapy? Yeah. Connecting threads of understanding is another side of the coin. But often this emerges organically, in (as the Buddhists say), "the right time." Its a process of both/and, not either/or.
You might not initially understand why you are drawn to certain colours, shapes, or gestures, and yet something important is still being communicated. This uncertainty is welcomed rather than corrected. Curiosity is key! The unconscious mind and the body are allowed to speak in their own time. This is a skill in and of itself - learning it is ok to explore, to not have the answers, to venture into places that you don't already understand. Coming into session and saying "I have no idea where to go today" is welcomed. The artwork acts as a guide to enter into unknown spaces.
There can be something deeply reparative about being given permission NOT to have all the answers…
This is especially important because trauma so often involves experiences of not being seen, believed, or protected. Healing, therefore, requires more than expression alone; it also requires witnessing. We, as humans, need to be seen. It's part of our DNA. We're not meant to process big feelings alone. Not when we were little ones, and not in our adult years. Having an image seen by 2 pairs of eyes is an effort towards connection. This is often called "befriending" - an antidote to shame.
Art therapy offers a unique form of witnessing that differs from talking therapies. When words are spoken, they disappear quickly. Artwork remains. The image exists outside of the person who created it. It can be looked at, returned to, reflected upon, or simply acknowledged without needing immediate interpretation. It's a real thing in real space - a physical artifact, not a theoretical sentence.

In art therapy with a therapist, the act of another person witnessing the artwork without judgement is profoundly validating. For some people, they have never experienced this before - so scary, yes, but also so crucial. Sitting with someone who accepts all of you - the messy paint on the floor, the hands covered in sawdust, the tears dripping onto the table - this is healing work. The image becomes evidence of an inner experience that deserves space and attention. This helps rebuild feelings of safety, identity, and self-worth that trauma has disrupted.
There is also a wider cultural dimension to intuitive artmaking that often goes unnoticed. Patriarchal systems prioritise logic, productivity, achievement, and measurable outcomes. We must perform! We must achieve! These values are deeply connected to patriarchal norms that dismiss emotional, embodied, cyclical, and intuitive ways of knowing. Process-based artmaking quietly (and sometimes, loudly) resists these expectations. In a world where AI seeks to perfect us, where algorythms seek to define us, where our humanness is being robbed from us, artmaking invites a rebellion against this. It restores our humanity and brings this into a loving-kindness relationship.
When you create without aiming for a polished final product, you step outside the demand to constantly achieve or produce something useful. You start to BE. To EXIST. To be valued for your humanness just for the sake of being human. The focus shifts toward authenticity, feeling, presence, and connection to self. In this way, artmaking becomes an act of reclaiming identity.
This is particularly significant in trauma recovery, because trauma often fractures a person’s relationship with themselves. People can lose touch with their intuition, creativity, needs, desires, or sense of agency. There is a strong outward gaze - what do others think of me, how can I be more accepted so I don't get hurt, what do I need to do to make them like me? Healing therefore involves more than reducing symptoms. It requires reconnecting with parts of the self that may have been silenced in order to survive. Your real self. Real as the paper, the paint, the pen. Art supports this reconnection gently and safely. Not through pressure or performance, but through curiosity, experimentation, and expression.
You do not need to be “good at art” to benefit from this process. It's not just for kids. It's not about being a "creative person" or already having any background. You might not even "like" art - that's ok! Sometimes healing begins with trying something new, with giving up the perfect sentence or word choice, with a single line, a colour, or a shape that cannot yet be explained.
And sometimes that is where the most important conversations begin.