The Healing Power of Creativity: My Journey With Art Medicine

You know that quiet nudge that shows up when you least expect it? Mine came through Instagram in the summer of 2025. Alexis Cohen, a fellow healer, artist, and storyteller, was promoting her Art Medicine Entrepreneur Summer Camp, a self-guided journey of audio teachings and meditations for entrepreneurs in the healing arts. Something about the vibrant colors and the joyful nature of the post caught my attention, and I registered for the camp right away. At the end of the camp, Alexis’ assistant, Nancy, asked if I had ever considered the Practitioner Certification, a more in-depth course that equips entrepreneurs with the skills to access healing through painting, and said that she thought it could benefit my offerings at Mongata. She was right. The more I learned about Art Medicine, the more I understood it had very little to do with simply learning brushstroke techniques. It's about using the act of creating to open a portal toward breakthrough, alignment, and a fuller sense of yourself.

As a therapeutic musician, composer, and sound facilitator, I've spent much of my life helping people reconnect with themselves through sound. I became curious about what would happen if I brought that same listening into a visual medium, and I wanted to experience this process before considering offering it to anyone else. I believe you can only guide someone into a practice you've been willing to enter yourself.

What the Practice Actually Looks Like

I began the Art Medicine Practitioner Certification course in October 2025 and will wrap up my journey this fall. There's an online learning platform where each module centers on creating a specific kind of art, live mentoring sessions three Wednesdays a month, weekly studio sessions, and a monthly group creating session.

Every session begins with meditation. From that stillness, I work intuitively with watercolors, acrylics, colored pencils, pastels, and paint markers, letting a painting emerge rather than trying to steer it. The process reminds me of improvisational music. Just as I never begin knowing every note I’ll play, I never begin a painting knowing exactly where it's headed. I enter into a conversation with color and shape and let it lead. Again and again, I've watched a piece come alive in ways I could never have planned, and that has left me genuinely in awe.

What I've Learned So Far

The biggest gift has been learning to trust the process instead of controlling it. Creativity, I've come to understand, belongs to all of us, not just to people who call themselves artists. This work has quieted my inner critic and made more room for curiosity and play.

The deeper realization is that the process is the medicine. There's no pressure to make something beautiful or technically impressive. The healing lives in showing up, staying present, and letting the work unfold without judgment. Along the way, I've also gone deeper into symbolism, archetype, and ritual—threads that have always run through my work with music, labyrinths, and contemplative practice.

Bringing My Experience Back to Mongata

If you've ever felt a quiet nudge toward something you couldn't quite name yet, I'd encourage you to listen to it. You don't need a finished vision or a plan for where it leads, you just need a willingness to begin.

I think about how easy it would have been to talk myself out of this training. I already had a full practice and years of experience working in sound; there was no obvious reason to pick up watercolors and colored pencils at this stage of my work. But the nudge kept quietly returning, and I've learned that those intuitive moments are worth trusting.

What I didn't expect was how much this would deepen the sound work I already do. Listening, it turns out, isn't tied to one sense. Whether I'm sitting with a client through breathwork, guiding a group through a labyrinth, or watching a painting reveal itself stroke by stroke, the underlying skill is the same: staying in the present moment. 

While I have months left in the certification, I can already feel how naturally it's weaving into my offerings at Mongata. My work has always centered on helping you slow down, listen inward, and come back to yourself. Art Medicine has simply become one more doorway into that same intention.

Rather than teaching people how to paint, I hope to create gentle spaces where participants can explore creativity without the pressure to perform or produce. Ultimately, Art Medicine has reaffirmed something I've long believed: creativity is not about making perfect things; it’s about becoming more fully alive.