Prior to March 6, 2011, I was an award winning entrepreneur/CEO and a nationally recognized thought-leader in healthcare. Then, in between business trips, I went to Costco to get a bag of cat food. While loading the groceries, the hatch of my SUV fell on my head. My 2 year old daughter was strappe...
Prior to March 6, 2011, I was an award winning entrepreneur/CEO and a nationally recognized thought-leader in healthcare. Then, in between business trips, I went to Costco to get a bag of cat food. While loading the groceries, the hatch of my SUV fell on my head. My 2 year old daughter was strapped into the cart. I had no idea how bad the injury was until the next day…
I had suffered a “mild” traumatic brain injury; however, mild speaks to how long one loses consciousness, not how long it takes to recover. As days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months, it became clear that I had post concussive syndrome. During this difficult time, I was encouraged to express myself through paints and pastels. Initially I dismissed the idea, as I couldn’t even draw a stick figure before the accident. I have never taken an art class, and I had never even had the desire to paint or draw. However, I eventually succumbed to a gentle willingness to at least give it a try as a part of my rehabilitation. What started as childish renderings quickly exploded into huge canvases. I couldn’t get enough! I transformed into an insatiable artist, sometimes producing as many as 5 paintings a day.
The TBI has given me the gift of a direct channel to my subconscious through my hands. I approach every piece of art with no plan and an open mind - I simply give my hands permission to do what they feel. The key is to silence my inner critic and ask my left brain to stay quiet while I allow the process to unfold. Each painting then becomes a journey that conveys its own transformational arc with layer upon layer of raw human emotion. Nothing is an accident in my paintings. I will scratch, sculpt, brush, sand, scrape, and pour my way to completion. When I am finished, I step back and peer into myself through the lens of the art. Offering profound insight into my subconscious, the painting ultimately becomes a kind of medicine that heals the wounds of the past while opening the doors to the future. I am still recovering from my TBI, but the art is the miracle that sets me free. It is my hope that it does the same for those that view it.
I am entirely self-taught, only following intuition as my guide.
Follow my journey at RainbowCourage.com (blog).