Thank you for your report!
We have received your report and it is currently under investigation by a forum moderator.
Depressed to Stops
Welcome to the forum.
Here you can discuss all things art with like-minded artists, join regular painting challenges, ask questions, buy and sell art materials and much more.
Make sure you sign in or register to join the discussions.
Hang on Studio Wall
This is a Studio member-only feature!
Join our Studio membership and save your favourite Painters Online content, from gallery artwork to step-by-step guides, to your own online mood boards. Create your go-to place for inspiration and learning. Plus, members can also enjoy a range of exciting features including monthly art videos and a digital magazine library.
If you are already a Studio member, simply login to your account.
Not a Studio member? Why not try our free 30-day trial - no commitment, no credit card required
Message
Posted
Sometimes I wonder whether God has given me chances throughout my life and I simply failed to recognise them. For a long time I blamed Him for everything that went wrong. I’ll admit that.
He speaks to me now and then—usually just a single word or a short sentence. The voice is always clear.
Years ago, when I was in serious trouble with the law, I was terrified. One day I felt Him tell me to look at the clouds. There was a dark sky with a single shaft of light piercing through it, almost like a lightsaber cutting the darkness. I didn’t understand it then.
Later, in court, there were seven of us waiting to take the stand. The moment my name was called, an immense clap of thunder exploded overhead. At the time I searched for the meaning of the light I had seen, but perhaps I interpreted it wrongly. Looking back, maybe the light wasn’t telling me I would escape—it was telling me I would survive.
More recently, I asked God for a sign that He was there. Within minutes the sky was filled with dandelion seeds—millions of them, drifting everywhere like tiny fairies dancing in the sunlight. It was one of those moments that stays with you.
Then there was the day a church gave me an ancient carved head of Jesus. I still don’t know why. They simply said that if I didn’t take it, they would leave it outside where it would probably be stolen. It now sits on my coffee table. Strange things happen.
A few months ago I was praying to become successful as an artist. Instead of answering my request directly, the words that came into my mind were about my youngest daughter: “She is a blessing.” It wasn’t the answer I expected, but perhaps it was the answer I needed.
So I believe God is among us—not always as we imagine Him, but perhaps as we hope to know Him. I think He has a sense of humour. Maybe He guides us in ways we don’t immediately understand. Whether He is God as traditionally believed, or something far beyond our understanding—a future intelligence watching, listening and gently guiding us—the effect is the same: we are not entirely alone.
Today I asked Him to guide me because I am depressed. The less I am able to create my artwork, the darker my world becomes. I don’t know how He will help, but I believe He will—quietly, unseen, and in His own way.
https://youtu.be/D_P-v1BVQn8?si=ig6LCJ7_VOIbAE-V
Edited
by Martin Shaw
Posted
I know of an account of an individual who went through depression for a long period. Then one day the individual came across a song they had never listened too before. That song resonated with them and the depression collapsed and returned to its native nothingness.
Your art Martin is very strong let it shine and the darkness is gone.
No Meeting Place.
If light could see darkness,
It would disappear.
Likewise if darkness could see light,
It would disappear.
Darkness is the absence of light.
Light is the absence of darkness.
Darkness is nothingness,
Unknown to light.
Light is the somethingness,
Unknown to darkness.
Therefore they never meet.
Therefore in Truth,
All is Light.
Posted
I have a bit of a problem with recurrent depression, but I have a bigger problem with the concept of God. I wouldn't seek to undermine anyone's faith, though, even though I don't share it. This isn't the place for a theological discussion - and if it was, I'd probably retire defeated. But, while I've never seen art as therapy - I don't think that's why most of us do it - the only thing I can really bring to this discussion is that letting your creativity loose is one of several keys to mental stability. Of course there are others: some choose God, some choose Fluoxetine (Prozac) - I suppose belief in God can teach one acceptance; and that might be important. But getting the brushes out, even if the results of doing so might induce more self-questioning (and it often does) if we're expressing ourselves, even our depressed selves, we are giving two fingers to the depression itself: and it needs to be put in its place and relegated to the box marked "Get Lost".
If you believe in God, you might also believe in the Devil - I don't believe in either, but have no problem with characterizing depression as the Devil's work, however irrational that might be: it represents the negative, self-destructive side of one's brain (which is where I think both God and the Devil reside). The point is to refuse that devil entrance to your mind and practice - doesn't matter how you identify him or it, so long as you take him by the scruff of the neck and boot him right up the backside.
Posted
Well Robert, you only appreciate the nettle sting when you have walked beside the river. And as for God, as is for art and the way we proceed with what we have, it has nothing to do with callous writing. I’m not a God botherer, but you obviously are. The next time you say you are ill perhaps I should remark the very same as you have done here.
I have put this post in the right area. It is about my art. Perhaps you should invest in Woman’s Weekly and respond to the letters sent in, that would go down more of a treat for you.
Edited
by Martin Shaw