“On Not Being Able to Paint” by Marion Milner [Joanna Field] (1957)
‘… I had discovered in painting a bit of experience that made all other usual occupations unimportant by comparison.
It was the discovery that when painting something from nature there occurred, at least sometimes, a fusion into a never-before-known wholeness; not only were the object and oneself no longer felt to be separate, but neither were thought and sensation and feeling and action.
All one’s visual perceptions of colour, shape, texture, weight, as well as thought and memory, ideas about the object and action towards it, the movement of one’s hand together with the feeling of delight in the ‘thusness’ of the thing, they all seemed fused into a wholeness of being which was different from anything else that had ever happened to me.
And when the bit of painting was finished, there was before one’s eyes a permanent record of the experience, giving a constant sense of immense surprise at how it had ever happened: it did not seem something that oneself had done at all, certainly not the ordinary everyday self and way of being.
… broadly, what the painter … conceptualize[s] in non-verbal symbols is the astounding experience of how it feels to be alive, the experience known from inside, of being a moving, living body in space, with capacities to relate oneself to other objects in space. And included in this experience of being alive is the very experiencing of the creative process itself.
Marion Milner’s treatment of psychic creativity differs in several respects from those well-established approaches to the subject to which psycho-analytic readers owe whatever familiarity with it they possess. She chooses as the object of her scrutiny not the professional and recognised artist but herself as a “Sunday-painter”; not the finished masterpiece but her own fumbling and amateurish beginner’s effort to draw and paint. In short, she analyses not the mysterious and elusive ability of the genius who achieves self-expression through the medium of painting, but, – as the title of the book suggests – the all too common and distressing restrictions by which the creativity of the average adult individual is held in check. – from the Foreword by Anna Freud (1956)
It was the discovery that it was possible at times to produce drawings and sketches in an entirely different way from any that I had been taught, a way of letting hand and eye do exactly what pleased them without any conscious working to a preconceived intention. This discovery had at first been so disconcerting that I had tried to forget all about it; for it seemed to threaten, not only all familiar beliefs about will-power and conscious effort, but also, as I suppose all eruptions from the unconscious mind do, it threatened one’s sense of oneself as a more or less known entity. – from the author’s Introduction (Jeremy P. Tarcher/Putnam)
















