Transitions — Canadian Art Therapy Association

Mahesh Iyer (MA, AThR)
Singapore

Mahesh Iyer is a registered art therapist working with children, youth and young adults in the special needs and mental health community in Singapore. Prior to this, Mahesh provided art therapy services for older adults at a sheltered home where he developed a process to integrate Indigenous and traditional art forms within his practice. This work later contributed to art therapy literature and has been presented at several international art therapy conferences.

I arrived in Singapore four years ago to complete my master’s degree in art therapy, and I have been fortunate to work closely with children, youth and individuals living with special needs in the region. In this short time, I have been drawn to natural spaces in this city and they have had a deep impact on my personal, professional and artistic development. Earlier while I was in the Middle East, my exposure to the natural world was quite limited. I also realize that I was not as reciprocal or sensitive to these spaces at the time. On this tropical island, I am awestruck by the magnificence of it all. The seasonal changes in Singapore happen on a day-to-day basis, which consistently reminds me of the incomprehensible intelligence of nature and everything it does to bring balance when necessary. For instance, it may be a hot sunny day, but you can sure enough expect rain at peak midday to instantly cool the terrain. There seems to be an unspoken rule that one must always carry an umbrella, no matter what the weather looks like, to avoid getting drenched. For someone who grew up in the Middle East, rainfall is nothing short of magic. It took me three years to buy my first umbrella and to this day I still intentionally leave it behind at home. I can’t get enough!

I believe that nature inevitably touches us in one way or another depending on how willing we become. Personally, I became aware of this connection during the pandemic when I started working from home. I was moving less and spending more time on the screen. I started catching myself zoning out while looking outside my window several times during the day. Since much of this did not seem to be in my control, I decided to “zone out” a little more consciously. I soon realized, zoning out with awareness is harder than you think! When awareness is added into the mix, it no longer remains a mindless activity. It becomes a process of conscious observation. To maintain awareness and avoid mindless zoning out, I started narrating what I observed mentally. I complemented the narration with photography and clicked an image of the focus of my observation sometime during or at the end. Often, the subject of interest would be floating clouds (image 1).

After some time, I was able to maintain conscious observation without the mental narrative. I could simply sit and notice subtle changes in the day, the passing of clouds and seamless transition from daylight to night. In some way, I also began noticing how I felt and what changes were going on within me with the passing of days. This subtle process made it very apparent to me that change is always happening, not just in the external world but also in my inner experience. It empowered me to remain anchored and notice transitions with awareness when I felt stagnated. In retrospect, I view my work below as a representation of the changes and transitions I was experiencing in my internal and external world.

Just like the Middle East, Singapore is also a very clean city. Discarded objects and garbage cans are cleared as efficiently as one can imagine. Although in many ways this is desirable and needed, it took me some time to get used to. I was always a curious child picking up shiny, interesting, discarded treasures from the ground and to some extent, still do to this day. I am almost certain that my fascination with found-object installations and assemblages stems from this quality. However, nurturing such an interest is challenging in a place like Singapore or the Middle East. It requires more than a pair of keen eyes; it needs one to be in the right place at the right time. Especially during the pandemic, I was quite sure that if I just so happen to be too close to anything discarded, I may be cleaned up with it as well!

One such potential became the seed of this artwork when I happen to catch a rare sight of a used canvas leaned against a garbage can in Singapore. The canvas was tainted, dusty and had blotches of pinks, blues and grey watercolours along with child sized handprints. It was old and torn, yet it somehow retained its playful and explorative nature. I brought the canvas home, cleaned it up and set it aside, waiting for inspiration. Several months later, when working from home became the norm and art-making turned predominantly digital, I felt the absence of tangible artmaking, and that is when this canvas came to my rescue. At the time my conscious observation routine was ongoing and it naturally drew my artistic tendencies towards natural shapes and forms. I was developing a certain fascination for contrasting colours. I reflect that this interest stemmed from staring at clouds and green spaces for long periods, wondering how their contrasting colours effortlessly harmonize and remain distinct at the same time. (image 2).

Here is when the intention of the process was realized to present change through transition lines, highlight distinct qualities of colour, and maintain overall harmony. However, painting over the existing artwork was challenging for various reasons. Each little stroke made the process of change very apparent. I hesitated to cover ground and felt a sense of ease when markings from the previous work showed through within subtle layers of transparency. I realized that it was important for me to remember and glimpse the original work. Therefore, I made a conscious choice to leave the circle as it is and allow the canvas to present its transformation while maintaining the process of change for those willing to look deeper. To me, it shall always serve as a relentless reminder of changes that I inevitably undergo, either with or without awareness.

When I engage in an artistic process where the object or medium goes through some change, I see the artwork becoming an embodiment of the transformative potential of art. I see the same potential resting in some extra paint left on a palette after a session. I wonder what it could transform into and that curiosity springs forth several spontaneous explorations post session. These innocent surges of creativity lead to invaluable clinical insights with time. Similarly, when there is a struggle for storage and I am staring at a largely untouched box in front of me labelled “found-objects” (the ones from the ground, you remember?), I contemplate getting rid of it. But do I? Or perhaps a more appropriate question would be, can I? The simple answer is no, I cannot, because there will always be potential, and no matter how long it takes, the wait is worth it.

Perhaps this is one reason why some art therapists are drawn to artistic processes such as process painting, mixed media collages, found-objects sculptures, altered books, blackout poetry, etc., which involve some forms of modification or alteration to an existing medium. Whatever the case may be, I think that creative minds, such as individuals who are drawn towards the arts therapies, cannot help but look for potentials. They are constantly looking at an object, an artwork, a client, or the world for that matter, through the potential lens of transformation. I believe that our practice empowers us to see what others may not and explore possibilities that most people would consider futile. As an art therapist, I am grateful to have this quality deeply embedded through my training and practice. In my opinion, it is not just necessary but instrumental whilst working with dynamic human potentials.