How Art Saved Me When My Brain Was Broken
Art therapy has helped me cope after a concussion from falling during a run
Ten months ago, I tripped and fell while running, slamming face-first into the asphalt. I couldn’t close my jaw, and I couldn’t walk a straight line. After seeing the dentist and my primary care physician, I was diagnosed with TMJ, whiplash, and a concussion.
After being told not to read, write, watch TV, or teach three-hour online courses, I returned to my first love: art.
When my adult daughter bought me two pocket-sized art journals the previous Christmas, I’d said, “Thank you,” but thought, What a silly gift. Doesn’t she know I don’t paint anymore? When she was growing up, I taught acrylic painting and scrapbooking in the after-school program. But I hadn’t seriously painted since my divorce 10 years ago. After the holidays, I tucked the two four-inch by four-inch books on a shelf behind my writing desk, never thinking of them again.
Then, in January, while I scrolled through Facebook searching for the online concussion support group my doctor recommended, I landed on an advertisement: “Journey with Color through Pocket-Sized Paintings.” For $25, I could buy a self-paced course with a professional licensing artist and join an international community of fellow art students. The course promised I would complete a pocket-sized painting each day in only 15 minutes.
I signed up right away.
Every day for the next month, I religiously painted each assignment, from patterns to portraits. Every painting was divided into three lessons. Each lesson only took five minutes to complete. Within an hour, the paint would dry, and I could move on to the next lesson. So, over the course of a day, in three five-minute intervals, I finished one four-by-four-inch painting.
Additionally, I made friends with other artists around the world. Whenever I posted pictures of my completed paintings on the private Facebook page, I received either kind comments or constructive criticism. Some friendships extended beyond the online group. I bought an original painting from a fellow artist in Australia. I learned how to make prints from an artist in Oregon. Most importantly, I learned how vital the arts are to being human, no matter where you live or who you are.
When the course was over, I enrolled in another one…and another…until I had purchased enough courses to fill one of the two pocket-sized art journals my daughter had gifted me at Christmas.
After I stopped taking courses, I expanded my art beyond painting. For some reason, the visual arts didn’t bother my brain like words did. I could smear paint with my fingers, rip paper into shapes, and mold figures with plaster. Sometimes when I couldn’t sleep, I would get up and work on whatever art project occupied my desk or easel until I became drowsy again. This habit prevented me from becoming dependent on sleeping pills.
When depression, anxiety, and worry occupied my mind, I turned to the canvas to release how I felt instead of asking my primary care physician for more antidepressants or additional talk therapy. When I finally became well enough to read, write, watch TV, and teach online again, I continued painting. What started as a hobby became so much more, healing me in so many ways, I wrote a book about it.
Angela Lam is a visual artist in Northern California. Fallen: A Post-Concussion Memoir chronicles her healing journey through the arts following a concussion and is fully illustrated with her artwork.





Loved reading your story highlighting the power of the arts for healing:). Happy to hear you're on the mend, Angela.
Love this post! Especially this: "Most importantly, I learned how vital the arts are to being human, no matter where you live or who you are." Couldn't agree more.