“Art Therapy can reach places words can’t”

I started at Galway Hospice in 2020—about three months before COVID-19—so it was a strange introduction to the hospice. It was also my first time working in palliative care. I’ve been an Art Therapist for almost 15 years, with experience in various mental health settings, including Children’s Oncology and the townships in Cape Town, South Africa, as well as extensive work with teenagers. I also spent many years working in a nursing home setting, so my work naturally evolved towards supporting people with life-limiting illness.

I always wanted to study Art Therapy and went back to college at 30 to do my Masters. This training is quite intensive and grounded in psychotherapeutic theory—based on the understanding that the unconscious mind reaches expression in images rather than words. My own artmaking had been a powerful resource throughout various times in my life— it helped me get something from the inside out. I knew it was the path I wanted to pursue.

What Is Art Therapy?

Art Therapy can be difficult to explain. People often say, “I can’t draw a straight line.” You don’t need any skills or experience to engage or benefit. It’s not about producing a beautiful picture. The introduction and reassurance matter: it’s about connection with yourself, with creativity, and discovering a supportive resource that is yours. Sometimes the word “art” scares people, sometimes the word “therapy” does—but people frequently surprise themselves. They enjoy the space, the colour, the opportunity to share, the quiet, and the possibility.

When a patient is experiencing so much uncertainty and facing the fragility of life, Art Therapy can create a space to reflect, process and find meaning—sometimes in ways that reach deeper than verbal expression alone. This process can meet the person beyond their illness, and find moments of meaning, connection, and expression. Being fully present to a patient’s emotional world and supporting what arises in the moment is central to the work. Each person brings a tapestry of lived experience, and witnessing the challenges patients and families face is a daily reminder of how precious life is.

Finding Meaning and Connection

A big part of my role is to tune in—to the emotional landscape of each person and what might be important to explore on any given day. There is huge value in the process during these sessions, and how this evolves. A patient may revisit times gone by, significant memories, unlived wishes, past trauma, difficult feelings and experiences in connection to their illness journey—or happier times.

Trust and relationship are everything. The safer someone feels, the deeper the process can go. There is privacy and control: Creations made can be kept, torn up, gifted to family as part of their legacy, stored privately, or revisited later. It’s gentle and powerful — led by the patient, always at their pace.

Materials That Tell Stories

Materials matter. Not everyone wants paint or canvas. We might use clay, chalks, string, stones, shells, twigs—the art room is full of random items donated over time. Sometimes someone doesn’t know what they want to make — until they see something and say, “I want to work with that.” The choice of materials can open up conversations: if something is fragile or easily broken, it can gently lead to what feels fragile in life right now. The move from 2D to 3D can feel like making something concrete in the world; there’s a real energy in that.

Every day is different. I join handover to understand what the day might look like—discharges, admissions, and who may be well enough for a visit. There’s a lot of walking, observing, catching moments and opportunities, introducing myself, building trust. I work closely with the multidisciplinary team—on the inpatient unit early in the week and in Day Care later—because everyone brings a piece of the jigsaw. The fuller the picture, the better we can support someone.

Common themes do arise. “Home” appears often—drawn houses, colours, memories—especially when being at home has been difficult or may no longer be possible to return to. The body also surfaces: pain, loss of independence or mobility, changes after surgery, shifts in identity for some as a man or woman. With children, there can be storms or “monsters”—often symbolic, never forced or interpreted, explored only if it feels right.

Moments That Stay with You

There are moments that stay with me. A woman who had never painted before decided to try. She worked from a photograph she loved. She kept smiling, surprised by what she could do, exact in her mixing, lost in the process. As she left, she kept turning back to look and admire her piece, delighted.

Another patient, later in his illness, couldn’t make art anymore but still wanted to be in the space where he had felt alive and creative. He watered the plants, sat in quiet, and felt at home here. Sometimes it’s light and playful; other times it’s about letting the guard down and being honest about the harder parts.

Families can be part of the work too. I’ve facilitated simple legacy pieces where a parent and child create something together—like covering a radiotherapy mask in plaster of Paris so it becomes a canvas of sorts, adding symbols, memories, and messages to keep. Those moments stay with people.

Creativity Takes Courage

Henri Matisse said, “Creativity takes courage.” That truth holds special significance in a hospice.  Seeing someone pick up a paintbrush for the first time to express their inner world—finding a new creative language or rediscovering an old one—this takes courage. Being part of that journey is profoundly moving and rewarding.

Palliative care has deeply shaped my understanding of holistic care. I have huge respect and admiration for every member of the team here—highly skilled, compassionate, and dedicated professionals working together to support patients and families through an incredibly challenging time. It feels like a privilege to enter someone’s world when life is so fragile, to witness strength, beauty, fragility, and heartbreak—often all at once.

Art Therapy and Mental Health

Art Therapy is increasingly recognised as a mental-health profession across healthcare settings in Ireland, especially in palliative care. Not everyone wants to engage in talk therapy. Creativity can bypass the overthinking and reach something very real and true. It offers gentle depth, privacy, and choice—another language for what words sometimes cannot say.

Kathy Hyland

Galway Hospice Art Therapist