"But I cannot paint."
This is the first sentence I hear at 9 out of 10 intuitive painting courses I lead. The next one goes: "My teacher in primary school told me I have no talent". Or: "My child paints better than I do". All these sentences have one thing in common - none of them matters for what intuitive painting is.
Because intuitive painting is not about the result. It is about the process - what happens within you when you stand before a blank canvas, when the first paint touches the surface, when the decision is made not by mind but by hand, body, breath. It is meditation through movement - with the difference that it leaves a trace you can return to.
Carl Gustav Jung wrote: "The creation of something new is not accomplished by the intellect, but by the play instinct arising from inner necessity. The creative mind plays with the objects it loves". These words have accompanied me from the beginning of my painting path. They show that creativity is serious soul work - but does not consist in effort, it consists in allowing.
I work with acrylic - on canvas, in my own and mixed technique. I paint not only with brushes, but also with palette knives and hands. I love this direct contact with material, the moment when paint ceases to be a "tool" and becomes the language of the body. I bring this same language to Intuitive Painting workshops - a course where I do not teach "how to paint", I teach how to be while painting.
What happens when a woman stands before a canvas in such a space? Usually in the first minutes resistance appears - "this is pointless, I cannot do this". Then often tears - because something long suppressed finds expression. Then laughter - because surprise at what is happening is very liberating. And finally - the painting. Often surprising the author herself. Often saying something she could not yet put into words.
The same happens in my second authorial method - Dance & Image®. It combines movement with image, dance with painting. The body leads, the hand paints, on canvas appears what flows through. It is a very pure form of work - there is no therapeutic "analysis", there is presence and expression. And yet after a session most participants say: "I feel as if something shifted inside me".
As a member of the Association of Polish Artists and Designers (Polish Applied Art) and author of 15+ solo and group exhibitions in Poland and the Czech Republic, I know that art and therapy are not two different worlds. For me they have always been the same language - the language of returning to oneself. Whether at the canvas, in a session, or in movement - the same stream of presence.
If you ever repeat to yourself "I cannot paint" - try. Maybe it is not about learning to paint. Maybe it is about remembering something you once knew.
For whom: for women who long for their creative side but fear "doing it wrong". For those who have lost access to their sensitivity and intuition. For all who want to know themselves through a wordless language - image, movement, the touch of paint.