holding space in art workshops: the invisible work behind playful possibilities
the spark
As I've been planning a new offering for my art workshops, I've been thinking about what people usually experience. They see the table set up with lots of materials, handouts, refreshments.
What they don't see is the quiet preparation underneath it all: the thought, care, and intention that goes into holding space in art workshops long before anyone ever tears their first piece of collage paper.

two very different experiences
Several years ago, I was co-facilitating a workshop with people who were sharing their experiences of living with a chronic illness. As we reviewed our agenda, my co-facilitator paused and said something that has stayed with me ever since:
We can't end this way. We can't send people back out into the world after talking about difficult things. We need to make sure we end on a positive note.
So we reworked the ending. We created space for humour, for laughter. We added elements that would help the participants move back into the world in a positive way.Not long after that, I attended an art workshop that did exactly the opposite. The facilitator encouraged what became, essentially, a group trauma spiral. Each person seemed to feel pressure to share something that was heavier than the last. And then, that was it. The session ended there, with no reassurance, no sense of closure, and no care for how people would carry all of that back into their lives.
It was unsettling. As I look back, I think it was also highly unethical.
How a workshop ends matters just as much as how it begins. And, it has to begin with care and with intention ~ two words that might be overused in this context, but I think they are still relevant.
creativity does not have to be painful
I have heard the idea that you can only make art if you dig deep ~ that you have to go to the saddest or most painful place.
I don't believe that. At all.
Is there a place for emotions in art? Of course! Do my workshop participants share personal experiences? Yes, but it happens naturally, without any pressure to do so. I don't think anyone should feel pressure to disclose personal stories in front of people they may have just met.
Creativity can look like:
quiet play
gentle curiosity
a moment of rest
a small spark of delight
And it can sound like laughter and camaraderie.
For me, holding space in art workshops means making room for all of that and not just what might be heavy.
the invisible work
I've facilitated focus groups and sharing circles for decades now, and I've realized that art workshops aren't all that different. The best ones feel organic and easy, but underneath, there's a lot of careful planning.
Some of the invisible work that I do before anyone arrives, includes:
thinking about emotional flow and pace ~ what will this feel like?
planning in small arcs, 5-15 minute intervals
building in choice, so nobody feels pressured
making sure there are moments to pause (although most times, people don't want to!)
paying attention to hospitality because being nourished and welcomed builds trust in me and the process
watching group dynamics to ensure no one is overlooked
Participants never see this structure and that's how it should be. When the planning is done well, I hope it feels like space is held for each person and all that makes them unique ~ just like what they create!

holding space in practice: mini retreats
For me, holding space is about hospitality and being a thoughtful host. It means that people are free to share and just as free not to. No one is asked to go deeper than they wish. Everyone feels more creative and more of a sense of possibilities than when they arrived.
I describe my workshops as mini retreats. I realize that can mean different things to different people.
For me, a mini retreat isn't about emotional intensity. It's about creating a pocket of time that feels slower, but animated. Maybe kinder and more spacious than everyday life. It's a few hours where you are cared for, nourished, and sent joyfully back into the world. At least that's what I hope people experience!
playful possibilities
This is the spirit behind playful possibilities.
It's not a workshop that asks you to mine your hardest stories, but one that invites you into a creative space that feels kind and enlivening.
There's structure, even if you don't see it. There will be care, even if it feels effortless.
And there will always be an ending that brings you back to yourself.
If this way of creating feels like something you'd enjoy, you can click here for more about my latest mini retreat.
