My artwork seems like a dense mosaic of what I have lived through, encountered, suffered, processed and healed, learnt, and created these past years. It speaks of a childhood and adolescence impacted with severe abuse, of victimization in adulthood, of the repercussions of these experiences, of the associated emotions and sensations and of the physical pains. I tell with words and I tell much more with images because for me images come easier and because art is inherently more multilayered and complex. Art also provides me with a safer framework to work within and express myself as I process material and document traumatic incidents, for the process of making images has, to some extent, allowed documentation and temporal and spatial organisation of my experiences across time and place, which is very important and conducive to achieving clarity and deeper understanding and being able to make links across experiences. Therefore, this art journal has become a visual narrative that has helped me reconstruct my story so far and work towards remaining healthy and achieving greater levels of safety and empowerment.

Additionally, although the process of art making and creating an art journal, has mostly been a solitary one, it has also become a means of connecting with others because sharing and displaying it in some form or other allows the isolation that comes with focusing internally and creating alone to be transformed into a kind of connection with others through sharing. It is as if art becomes a space where inner and outer realities meet. Furthermore, this art journal has provided a much needed outlet to my stifled and wounded creativity, and has helped me overcome my state of ‘muteness’, and thus, has enabled me to share experiences I could perhaps not otherwise have verbalized. We now know that traumatic experiences become encoded in the mind in the form of images; therefore, art can offer a way to express these images by helping bring them to consciousness in a less threatening way. Malchiodi writes that ‘feelings and thoughts are not strictly verbal and are not limited to storage as verbal language in the brain, and therefore, art can be useful in helping people communicate aspects of memories and stories that may not be readily available through conversation’ and that ‘artistic expression could be considered a form of visual language through which people can express what they cannot verbalise, such as childhood abuse’ (Malchiodi, 2007).

Finally, sharing these images initially felt like abandoning my small shell of illusionary protection because ‘speaking publically could invite stigma’ (Herman, 1997) and judgment from others, which are forms of secondary wounding or traumatisation. However, although speaking out can be unsettling and difficult it also decreases fear, removes shame and places it where it belongs. Marie O’Neill, therapist and abuse survivor, writes ‘my ultimate aim was to cut through the feelings of shame, the need to hide this ghastly mess, and by so doing help to force society to see what it would prefer not to see’ (cited in Mullinar and Hunt, 1997). In the same book, Evelyn Miers, a mother of a child survivor of sexual abuse, writes ‘How much exposure do we need before this taboo subject is dealt with by our politicians, medical people, counselors, the church, and society in general? This is REAL, this happens. Sexual abuse happens. It cannot be ignored; it will not go away and it is devastating not only for the victim but also for their family’. So my art has also aided me in sharing aspects of my story publicly, which ‘allows one to feel as if they are helping to change the future’ (cited in van Loon and Kralik, 2005).