a place beyond language

a personal reflection on writing, painting, and the self beneath thought

Hello, I hope you’re doing great!

I’ve been reflecting on something that has made a profound difference in my life.

I’ve always been someone who writes a lot. I write to sort through my thoughts, understand my emotions, get to know myself better, and make sense of the world around me. Writing has always been the place I return to whenever I need clarity. Recently, I also discovered a journaling method that has been helping me even more than before, but I’ll come back to that later.

A few months ago, I rediscovered something I had completely forgotten about. Then I forgot about it again, and only this month it found its way back into my life. That was painting. Not painting for the sake of creating something beautiful, but painting as a way of expressing my thoughts, feelings, and emotions. And something happened that I still don’t quite know how to describe. The closest I can get is saying that it felt like freedom. It felt like I was finally just being myself.

July Studies

The different parts within us

Lately, I’ve been reflecting on the idea that we all have different parts of ourselves. Sometimes there’s the shy part that prefers to stay quiet and observe. Sometimes it’s the loving, deeply empathetic part that tears up over almost anything. Then there’s the part that’s always searching for meaning, trying to understand life, people, and the deeper patterns behind everything. And then there’s another part that I find much harder to explain. It’s quiet. It feels deeply trusting, deeply grounded, almost as if it already knows. It doesn’t rush to conclusions or get caught up in endless thoughts. It purely exists with a quiet sense of certainty.

On the other hand, there’s another part of me that feels completely different. It’s the constant stream of thoughts that never seems to stop. The voice that’s always commenting, judging, questioning, analyzing, wondering whether something is good or bad, whether I should be doing something differently, or whether something might go wrong. I naturally call that part the noise.

What fascinated me was that painting didn’t activate the noisy part of me. It awakened the quiet one. The part that feels peaceful, trusting, and somehow deeply wise. That’s actually not a part of myself I experience very often. Different situations tend to bring out different sides of us. When I’m surrounded by a lot of people, my shy side naturally becomes more present. Around close friends, I’m sarcastic, playful, and completely myself because I know they won’t judge me. With certain people, my reflective and philosophical side comes alive. Sometimes difficult situations activate fear or anxiety. That’s part of being human. Carl Jung wrote extensively about these different aspects of our psyche. But what struck me was that art consistently brought me back to that quiet, grounded place inside myself. I wanted to remember that.

When words aren't enough

So this month, I made a small promise to myself. Instead of only writing every day, I would also paint. Because I’m a very sensitive person, I intentionally chose materials that felt gentle on my nervous system. I picked soft colors, calming tones, and oil pastels because they didn’t feel overwhelming or overstimulating. Then I sat down and painted.

July Studies

What amazed me was that even though I often felt like I was painting the same thing every single day, every piece turned out completely different. Each painting had its own character, its own story, its own emotion, and its own energy. When I photographed every piece for my shop, I found myself falling in love with them over and over again. Maybe that sounds a little arrogant, but that’s honestly how it felt. I genuinely loved them. Every single one carried something unique that couldn’t be repeated.

Most of these paintings grew out of reflections on fear, loneliness, trust, and different emotional experiences. Sometimes everything started with writing. I would journal for a while until I reached a point where words no longer felt enough. That’s when I wanted to paint instead. I gave those feelings permission to exist. I allowed them to express themselves without trying to control them. Sometimes I included affirmations. Sometimes I wrote down thoughts or little truths that had become clear to me. Other times I let color speak entirely on its own.

It made me realize that sometimes words aren’t enough. Sometimes we have to move beyond language to reconnect with ourselves. For me, painting has become one of those places. It almost feels like prayer. It feels like meditation*. I enter a state of flow where time disappears, and for a moment, nothing else exists but the present.* I know many people experience that same feeling through music, singing, writing, dancing, or playing an instrument. For me, it’s painting. I truly hope this becomes a lifelong practice, and I’m excited to keep sharing these small studies with you.

Explore all studies and artworks.

A new way of journaling

Before I forget, I also wanted to share the journaling method that’s been helping me so much recently. Normally, I write everything in a straight line, one thought after another. But over the last few days, I’ve started doing something different. I write the date in the middle of the page, almost like the center of a mind map. From there, I write down every thought that comes up and allow each one to branch into another. Instead of forcing my thoughts into a linear structure, I let them grow naturally, following every question, every connection, and every new idea that appears.

There’s nothing revolutionary about this method, but for me it completely changed the way I journal. I’ve genuinely fallen in love with writing all over again. The past few days I’ve even caught myself looking forward to getting home from the gym just so I could sit down and journal. That’s how much this small change has helped me. Maybe it will resonate with you too.

These were purely a few thoughts I wanted to share with you.

With love,

Rania