Winter Art Processing - A Buoy In Darker Times
(Safely) Turning Into The Dark
Welcome Back to The Art of Rest
I’ve spent a lot of time writing about “The Rest” within The Art of Rest lately. Much of that content came from my own personal autumnal journey of needing the weekly reminder to presence and uplift the rest, because I, myself wasn’t getting enough of it. The extra ‘boost’ on that inspiration came from watching the communities I participate in also needing that permission slip to build the restful structure in.
Today, we call The Rest infrastructure “good enough”1 and begin to lean into where all of this silly business began. This winter we are being called back to The Art of the Art of Rest—our buoy2 in darker times, and our inspiration for expansion in lighter ones.
Why Cozy In With Art In Winter?
Winter tends to be a more tender, difficult time for many folks3. The weather is colder and necessitates much more prepwork than tossing on a tank top or walking around in a sports bra all summer. The light leaves us sooner, which makes it hard to motivate or want to be social. Depression rates often tilt up, especially for women and those of us who live further from the equator. In winter there are layers upon layers upon layers.
I don’t highlight these things to swamp your decks with doom and gloom. I highlight them to remind us that they are yearly realities that we can expect, prepare for, and even learn to relish in by finding their gifts. When we’re in a culture that’s constantly pushing us to be busier and more productive, there can be a resilient sweetness in saying “no thank you,” learning from the plants and animals around us, and coming to an almost complete stop in the winter to rest, reset, and restore for the other three seasons of the year.
However, just like the barren tree that stands in a field of snow—just because you can’t see any signs of life, doesn’t mean there isn’t a lot of complex, beautiful movement going on underneath. The tree is still living. The tree is still growing. It’s just not something we can perceive.
Whether we do art in the winter or not, we too, are still growing and changing when the weather asks us to slow way down. Art is simply a way to help us track the undercurrents of where we are within that wintering journey. Not only does art help us locate and make meaning out of our imperceptible growth, but it also can assist us in managing and navigating our more depressive4 moods as the season slowly shifts through.
What Kind of Art is Best?
While there are certainly kinds of art that are less stimulating for the nervous system5, there is actually no wrong answer here. The best kind of art for the winter is the type of art you regularly return to and find meaning in making. Sometimes a winter calls for identifying a particular art medium you’d like to get better and practicing regularly, while other winters are more about following a loose structure of clues and allowing yourself to create while following along a pre-made roadmap.6
Whatever you choose, allowing yourself to fully dive in can be an indirect way to track themes you might want to more consciously explore or a permission slip to simply be engaged in the moment. Art in this way is not necessarily used as an escape, but instead sometimes a tool to help bolster us be fully present with the winter-y, dark, regenerating feelings and sink into them safely.
I’ll reiterate, just because it’s worth saying again—there is no wrong way to do winter art.
One thing I will say from my own experience however, is that often the art that we’re most embarrassed, hesitant, or resistant to creating space for might be the most nourishing in the depths of winter. For me personally, not only is improvisational movement my deepest processing tool, there is something deeply healing and relieving about being witnessed in it even when I think it’s ugly or weird or unflattering.
Why Sharing Your Processing Art is Important
As I just said, sharing art, especially winter-spookies-processing-art can be excruciatingly vulnerable. However, it can also be something that deepens a sense of intimacy and sense of belonging7 with trusted people or communities that we allow to see us in our process and product. Allowing ourselves to be perceived with something we’re a bit embarrassed to take so much relief or pleasure in creating can communicate back to our bodies and our nervous systems something along the lines of “even in my messiest, most human moments, I belong.”
Now, if you’re squirming in your chair as you read or listen to this part of the article, you’re not alone. I haven’t posted a video of me doing movement processing overlaid with poetry in probably over a year at this point and when I think about being that vulnerably visible in The Art part of my work, I get a bit queasy.
I will also tell you that when I started this business, and it was centered entirely around the art, I posted those videos all the time (mostly because I had no followers and so what did I care about who saw my process!?). More than any other compliment or reflection of my content, people commented on my sharing of those short videos. While it might be inspiring to see someone who is good at something create, many people want to feel connected by being part of the process of growing and creating as humans together.
Allowing your best friend, partner, sibling, or parent to see you in the process of making or sharing finished pieces of your work is a gift of intimacy for both of you.
Take A Dark Evening to Make A Plan For Your Winter Art Projects
Skip one night of Netflix8 to pull out a blank piece of paper.
Set a timer for 5-10 minutes and brainstorm with the question":
If nobody ever saw it, what type of artistic endeavor would I spend time building relationship with?
Let your pen flow. Don’t try to filter yourself—even if something totally bonkers comes out—challenge yourself to trust it.
After ten minutes, get back to the Netflix….or maybe start diving down the rabbit hole of asking yourself what is the first baby step you can take towards your winter art project.
What have you got to lose?
As for me….I have decided that I will not be running my 16-week Wild Woman Archetype art and mythology course this winter which creates a bit of a vacuum. The juicy-ness of that particular creative container inspires me more consistently and potently than anything ever has. While I won’t be offering anything official this year9, I couldn’t help myself but revisit that series of stories again. I’ll be hosting a few co-created, very informal chat sessions around the book Women Who Runs with the Wolves and it’s likely you’ll see that reflected in the art, movement, and poetry that trickles through over the winter. I’m also hoping some other organic matter comes through and that I’m brave enough to share it in conjunction with good ole fashioned tips on what it means to get good rest.
Whatever you end up creating this season, I’d love to hear about it.
As always,
Thank you for being here.
Gratefully,
Dagny Rose
Support A Re-building Community Through Art
As y’all know—I was in Asheville, North Carolina during Hurricane Helene and helped with early stages of disaster relief. Although this past week residents have finally had their municipal water returned, much of the community is still in a deep process of healing and rebuilding.
One of my poems was selected to be published in a disaster relief zine titled Understory. This Western North Carolina local poetry publication through Loblolly Press along with almost 90 other artists. All proceeds will be going to a local relief group and you’ll be supporting the art of artists impacted by Hurricane Helene.
If you have $10 to spare, please consider heading over to pick up a digital copy of Understory to support continuing efforts for disaster relief in WNC. Similarly, if you have any poetry/short story/visual art lovers in your life, please share and encourage them to do the same.
This sub-section of The Art of Rest, is all about—you guessed it—The Art!
Here we explore the creative practices in our lives. Whether we are creating for the pure joy of it, finding ways to have our art help make our lives better, or intentionally honing in on our creative practices, “The Art” is going to regularly touch into our creative pulse5.
Looking For A Place to Practice More Presence?
In August 2025 the Art of Rest is teaming up with Hughes River Expeditions6 to host our week-long, wellness river trip—Conscious in the Current. Spending a full week in a remote wilderness setting, with a gently-held, all-inclusive container is the perfect environment to practice gentle presence. If you’re interested to learn more and are interested in booking please don’t hesitate to reach out: dagnyrose@theartofrest.me.
knowing that we’ll keep hacking away at is as we have time and space
“A buoy is a floating device used in the maritime industry to mark a specific location or to warn of hazards. Buoys are often brightly colored and have distinctive shapes or patterns, making them easily visible to ships and other watercraft.
AI generated this description of a buoy for me and I love the way that it relates to art processing in the winter because the act of processing through art doesn’t actually keep us safe from our emotions but instead helps us mark where they are and where the edge of our consciousness finds the safety and the danger. Art can help us get close to the spookies and see where they are without plunging us too far into the feelings where we can’t find agency within in them. They allow us to approach slowly.
Obviously, depending on where in the world you are— closer to the equator it might not be as extreme, but I wouldn’t know, I’ve never lived there. This might just apply to those in the 45th parallel or above.
meaning less activity rather than clinically diagnosable
Think about this in the context of “what art is more stimulating to me versus what art can I relax in creating?” If that still doesn’t feel entirely clear, some other ways to ponder this are asking yourself the questions:
Are there types of art that I enjoy that dont need to “look good” when it’s done? (Abstract art versus photorealism)
Are there types of art where I can sink into the sensation of the art while I am making it? (Playing with clay, finger painting, cooking something aromatic)
Is there art I can participate in that helps me learn something new about myself or create a sense of curiosity as I create it? (Collage, Poetry, Photography)
Is there a form of art that helps me connect more deeply to community and connection? (Poetry readings, open mic nights, tango lessons, pottery classes)
My personal favorite is to follow Women Who Runs With The Wolves for inspiration. Many people I know and love revisit The Artist’s Way often.
In my master’s degree I did a significant amount of research about how the feeling of belonging is one of the most robust protective factors for mental health, depression, anxiety, and deeply intertwined with feelings like suicidality. Bolstering our sense of belongingness is one of the most meaningful things we can do.
And boy oh boy, am I not knocking on Netflix. I have just crushed my way through the new season of Arcane and am re-watching TrueBlood on HBO for the first time since it came out. Netflix is a perfectly acceptable winter activity choice, the trick is to find out if it’s the right medicine all the time.
But next year in 2026 I plan on doing a full blown re-launch in Missoula Montana (and probably virtually) so stay tuned if that’s something you’re interested in!