I didn’t feel ready to lead a therapeutic art session. My anger and helplessness all jumbled inside me. Each small task felt far more difficult than it should’ve. But I needed to tidy my house and my heart enough to welcome people into my home.

The news last week brought back a lot of memories. Old feelings I’d forgotten still live inside me. When I was 10 or 11, my older brother stood on the patio with his bb gun. The afternoon was quiet. No adults around. I stood nearby to watch him aim. He squeezed the trigger—and the bb ricochetted off a block wall. It hit me in the chest. I looked down, horrified. Fear filled my entire body. I fled into the house. I found my mom in the living room and told her I’d been shot. She checked me for blood as I fumbled with my words, trying to explain the ricochet. It hit me, but it didn’t hurt me. I was scared. She left me to go scold my brother. I stood there, absorbing the implications of what had happened. Despite the gun being pointed away from me, despite standing safely aside, despite not being a target, I was somehow still in the line of fire.

We are all in the line of fire. No matter where we stand. After last week, political tensions are heating up even hotter than before. And we do not have leadership that will bring peace. Instead we have crusades, martyrs, blame, division, argument upon argument. The rage layers and jumbles and escalates until the violence ricochets every which way. We lose track of why we’re upset to begin with. Our anger masks fear. Vulnerability. Insecurity. Deep sadness.

I’m tired of speeches. I’m tired of heated social media arguments. We must stop fighting. We must stand quietly and grieve together.

Even though I didn’t feel ready, 1:00 came and my therapeutic art group arrived. We hugged our hellos and I quickly realized that we were all processing similar feelings. I gave them paper and told them to write out what they were experiencing inside. We talked, we wrote, we scribbled. Pressing a pencil against the page and dragging it in rough zig zags brought all the tension out. It helped us find words.

Frustrated. Sad. Helpless.

With this self-expression started, we moved to the next phase of the project. I told them to layer images over the scribbles. We built collages to find direction for these feelings. We all had different approaches. We chose different images. Some used words, some used shape and color. Some art pieces were tidy, some were chaotic.

My collage started with the words “Once Islands.” I picked through the magazines, finding images of food that looked comforting, unsure how we’d cease to be isolated. Image by image, the collage became a plea for unity. It became a reminder that I am not helpless. I am an artist, I am a writer, and I am a homemaker. I am a person who creates space for others to feel safe. I am a person of faith who believes that politics is not the end-all. We must set the arguments aside and see each other as human. People to welcome in for a meal. Foster a dialogue that values our vulnerable, beating hearts.

What I do isn’t big. I don’t have the energy to schedule much or even talk much, but the little I have, I try to give. And it’s enough.

once islands, now unstoppable

we make room for all of you

and the art of home

As we made art together, I felt so grateful for the friends who show up to these therapeutic sessions. They chose to take time on a Saturday afternoon to play with scissors and magazines and Crayola colored pencils. We often set up art projects for children and forget that we also need creativity in our lives. It’s how we ground ourselves in the present, process the hard stuff, connect with each other, and refresh our spirits. So to those who remember just how important this process is: thank you.

Here’s how you can create a similar therapeutic experience in your own home:

Collect paper, scissors, magazines, and glue.
Scribble some feelings onto the paper asking, “How do I feel right now?” Write notes, process whatever you want to process.
Ask yourself “What can I do with these feelings?” Find images that feel right to you. Words, colors, textures, shapes.
Take your time. Turn on some music. Make some tea. Glue the images over your scribbles. Layer it up as much as you want.
After you’ve put everything together, ask yourself “How do I feel right now?” You may be surprised by what you find.

I’d really love it if you tried this out. Get a friend to sit down with you and make a mess of magazine clippings at the dining table. If you do, tag me on Instagram @slywriter or comment on this update. Let me know how it went!

If you would like to join me one of these days, subscribe to my free newsletter to get updates on future events. I am collaborating with Hello Heart Creative Studio to run free art sessions. We should have something put together early 2026. I also run sessions in my home, as you can see above, but that space is limited to friends and family.

Below you’ll find more of the art that we made together. Processing via flow and shape. Via images of nature, contemplating what it means to be rooted. Via words layered over soothing neutrals. (L, I realize I never took a photo of yours! I can add it if you snap a picture and text it to me <3 )