YOUR WOMB HAS A VOICE: intuitive art therapy
Your womb has a voice? Really? What does that even mean? Well, I learned that mine has her own unique way of communicating with me, and she began to speak loudly through my art practice in its early stages. It felt as though the spirit of my art guided me, leading me to paint subjects that held a significant amount of grief, were difficult to navigate, or caused discomfort and unease. Painting became a way to fully process these events - creativity has a way of letting you express what words can’t, offering a kind of safety net. This is a long story, so bear with me. I’ve done my best to tie the fragments together because trying to speak about big life events always feels a little tricky to piece it all together as one smooth narrative.
There are two major chapters of my life that became the catalysts (I like to say wayshowers) for a significant portion of my watercolour pieces and my menstrual body of work.
I grew up as a creative child with a mother who was is artist herself and really nurtured my creativity. But when I reached my menarche and entered high school, things shifted pretty drastically. I started experiencing unbelievable amounts of period pain whenever I bled and was inevitably put on the pill (a form of chemically castrating oneself) that disconnected me from myself, my rhythms and creative self. I stopped painting in a way that felt connected to me. To give you an example: my HSC art portfolio featured women, drawn as nudes, with a death-like quality to them, painting their bones, for instance.
It wasn’t until I graduated high school and followed in the footsteps of my brother by taking the leap to go backpacking alone that I experienced my first real intuitive nudge. That nudge was to ditch the birth control pill that I had been cycling on for seven years, switching between brands like Diane and Implanon.
Before leaving Oz and landing in Europe, tossed out a year’s worth of pills, and began the journey of returning to myself. I bought my first watercolour pad and a Winsor & Newton Cotman Watercolour Studio Set - probably the most expensive and glorious set I’d ever owned up until that point, and it lasted me years. This was the start of my journey into self-discovery through intuitive “Art as Therapy.”
I began painting vulvas, womb connections, the female reproductive system, land connection, self-expression, pregnancy, sexuality, embodiment, menstruality (depicted as bleeding rivers and bodies of water as blood), spiritual ponderings, and life experiences that evoked strong emotions. I also painted animals I felt deeply connected to during my time in Europe (which happened to be animals from my childhood because I was homesick). These artworks were the beginning, the more lighthearted pieces that set the stage for the deeper works that would come later, inspired by significant life events and rites of passage. I kept these pieces with me in my backpack while my style began to develop.
When I returned home to Australia, the style that had been slowly taking root overseas took on a life of its own. My work became even more original in its content and communicative. Alongside my watercolour pieces - which reflected events happening in conjunction with my natural rhythms returning - I created a body of work, with my menstrual blood, with even deeper and more significant healing qualities.
Jumping forward a good handful of years - after settling back in and finding my way in Australia again - the following series began to emerge…
‘Echoes of the Womb’ is a 10-part series that I painted using my own menstrual blood in 2020, yes that’s right - I painted these artworks with period blood. In the months leading up to the creation of these works, I traversed a handful of significant and challenging life events. These included falling pregnant with an ex-partner and making the mutual decision to terminate the pregnancy (as it wasn’t the right decision for us to conceive), investing in and moving through The Spiral (an emotional clearing journey designed to remove energetic and emotional blocks) with the intention of “being seen as an artist” or “coming out as an artist,” and separating from the same partner I had fallen pregnant with. These events profoundly shaped the creation of the series, as they impacted my life experience, and took me through a rollercoaster of dark and heavy emotions and grief spirals, which required me to find a safe way to process them.
Touching on our decision to move forward with the abortion, it was the right choice for both of us - we both knew this immediately. Yet, even though the decision was clear and right for us, my body responded so positively to the pregnancy. I felt the changes almost instantly: my breasts began to enlarge, and I experienced a profound sense of ‘growing.’ This process brought countless emotional challenges that left their marks on both my body and psyche, ones I didn’t know how to hold for some time.
The procedure itself felt clinical (obviously) and detached - just another woman in line, as far as the medical professionals and anaesthetist were concerned, with a memory of them joking and laughing as I walked into the Day Surgery Room. Afterwards, I mistakenly chose not to take Panadol, leaving me in agony, howling in pain for hours until I only found relief with hot oil (THC). The experience was riddled with grief. Even though we weren’t ready to become parents and knew we’d made the right decision, my body grieved deeply for the little life in my womb. My body felt confused, stripped of functioning as it should, leaving me feeling mentally disorientated and emotionally distraught. To make matters more complex, I didn’t feel I could share my experience with my family right away. I feared judgment because I had been warned my entire life: “Be careful, don’t fall pregnant.” And yet, I had, while practising the FAM method. I held this inside for far too long, driven by my fear of judgment - mostly from myself. Instead of trusting the innate understanding that my family would support me and hold me with love no matter what, I stood in my own way of receiving the support I really needed.
Happening around the same time as the abortion, I was nearing the end of my Spiral journey. The strong calling to paint this collection came to me during this period. With hindsight, I didn’t realise I’d be painting a series of artworks, but the calling first emerged when I experienced my first bleed after the abortion. Heart Opening was the doorway, the wayshower, leading me to start this series. It felt as though she echoed, “Come, this is how we are going to support you in your healing - you need to paint about your experiences.” Read the artwork blurbs at the bottom to find out more of their background stories.
The main intention behind this body of work was to destigmatise menstruation - for myself, for my community (those following my artistic journey on socials and my close circle), and for society at large (big, right? I know... I was certainly ambitious).
But on a deeper, more personal level, I now understand, with five years of reflection - soaking in the medicine of these artworks, that these pieces were painted to not only heal my menarche story, but also my abortion, and all the painful, testing moments of my life in between.
I also intuitively feel these works connect to the women who came before me: my mother, grandmother, and the ancestral trauma stored in the womb. Particular artworks in this series lean into healing aspects of my psyche, though not all of them. Some pieces explore topics I was navigating at the time, while others feel mystical - like echoes of a time before me.
These artworks not only reconnected me to my womb on a physical level but also allowed me to tap into its spiritual and cosmic-like aspects. Through this process, I learned to truly listen to the echoes of my womb portal and those who speak through it.
I collected my blood and stored it in glass containers in the fridge. This journey invited me to learn the smell of my blood, its metallic nature, and how to overcome societal conditioning that teaches us to view menstrual blood as waste, something to be hidden and be disgusted by. I even used the blood I didn’t paint with in ritual, applying it to my face as a mask, soaking up all the health properties that the endometrial lining provides. I discovered where tension was held in my body around the feelings of ‘ickiness,’ ‘shame,’ and ‘grossness’ and learned to release them, reconnecting with this life-giving part of myself - this layer of me capable of holding life.
Initially, the act of painting with my blood felt too big to hold, too overwhelming to go through with, as it was deeply taboo and stirred feelings of anxiety about what people would think. Who was I? A witch? A freak? The process allowed me to break through layers of societal conditioning I hadn’t even realised I clung onto. It brought me peace within my body, reclaiming it in a sense, and allowed me to grieve properly through creativity.
By painting these pieces, the parts of me that were frozen in time - lost, forgotten, bruised, battered, and riddled with grief - returned to me. Not healed in the sense of being all sparkly and like new, but whole and healed in a way that allowed these parts to finally integrate into my being, releasing any remnants of emotion still stored within me.
Artwork Blurbs:
This artwork was the first piece of the series, birthed as a result of experiencing my first bleed after my body returned to her natural rhythm post-abortion. During this time I was in the shower, I felt my bleed descend as an energetic spiralling pull downward, and an overwhelming desire to be near the ground. As I lowered myself, an agonising wave of pain surged right through me, shocking me with grief and (slight) terror. It mirrored the pain I had felt immediately after the procedure, moving through me so quickly that I found myself gasping on the shower floor - grieving and crying. I painted Heart Opening as an integration piece to honour this experience, naming it ‘Heart Opening’ to reflect the way my body speaks to me. I wanted to convey the raw power of menstruation by presenting the figure in a frontal, exposed position - saying, Do you see me? Do you see what happens at the end of each cycle?- along with highlighting the sensitivity of this time in our cycle by the figure crying.
This artwork deeply expresses the importance of honouring the ‘retreat’ feelings a womb-holder experiences as she descends into the final (or later) stages of her autumn phase in her cycle. If this call isn’t respected or listened to, the backlash of ignoring one’s boundaries and inward movements at this stage can be deeply felt, by all present. The yellow figure within the trunk of the tree and the wave-like forms at the top of the artwork could represent an ancient voice of the womb. However, their exact meaning remains unknown to me, even to this day. They feel connected to the red thread of womb wisdom (even though I painted it in blue), stretching backwards through time, connecting to the wombs of women who walked before us. The skeleton of this piece began with the vision of male and female figures, which intuitively developed into a feeling state, organically growing into the full artwork.
This piece is a cosmic representation of how we are all born of the womb and, eventually, return to the womb of the earth and the cosmos. The artwork emerged from a powerful feeling state or vision - a woman melting, dissolving, and flowing down into a vulva-like black hole.
A playful exploration of the different sexual ranges and feeling states experienced during bleeding time. This piece also delves into the cosmic qualities that can emerge during intimate moments while menstruating.
A favourite of mine, this piece embodies and honours the descending, slower energy of menstruation. Painting this artwork helped me understand how women, as womb-holders, mirror the seasons of the earth. When we bleed, we enter our winter - a time of rest, where we can receive ideas, gain clarity, and connect deeply to ourselves, intuitively. It felt important for the figure to be on the ground, bleeding and returning her menstruation to the earth as an act of respect and reverence for the cycle - and a connection to how women once bled together in the red tent. Creating this artwork helped me release the anxiety I used to feel about not always being in full bloom or constant action.
This artwork reflects the process of learning how to navigate, honour, and communicate the seasons of the menstrual cycle within a partnership. It explores the mutual understanding needed to connect while moving through the four very distinct feeling states that occur over the course of a month (or thereabouts).
This piece is deeply significant to me. Its original intention was to convey the parts of my womb, post-abortion, feeling like they had come back together - a sense of acceptance, compassion, and knowing that the decision was the right one. The figures above represent my ex-partner’s unwavering support during that time, as he went to great lengths to soothe my pain and make me feel at ease.
Fertile Womb was created as an integration piece, honouring my fertility while acknowledging that this wasn’t the time for my body to grow life. The fetus is painted to resemble a seed in the ground, symbolising a ritual we performed to honour this rite of passage.
This deeply moving piece conveys the presence of ancestral over-watchers who held the space for me throughout this process. Their influence helped me create this body of work..
A playful and light-hearted piece, painted simply for the joy of it. This is the one artwork in the menstrual series without a deep symbolic meaning woven in.
Other artworks that played a significant role in the Intuitive ‘Art as Therapy’ theme- helping me navigate and process the termination experience - can be found in my watercolour body of work. These include Weeping Cervix, Veracious Birth, and Sacred Trust.
