Paper, Paint, and Power Collaging: A Hands-On Ritual for Rebuilding After Divorce

When the formalities of a divorce are over, property is divided and papers are signed, it’s time to move on. At least, that’s what everyone expects you to do. For me, the first few weeks and months felt liberating and calm. The emotional weight of another person was lifted, leaving me feeling lighter and hopeful. There were days I thought this was going to be okay. But if you’ve been through a divorce after a long-term marriage, you know it’s not that simple. There were painful facts and lingering feelings I was not ready to face. 

The Emotional Takeover

To manage the emotions that soon followed, I began creating a narrative of who I suddenly was: a betrayed 60-year-old woman, mother of three adult children, and a newly single woman without enough financial resources to cushion the blow. I held myself in victimhood; I felt kind of pitiful.

The repeated story went on. The home and family I spent a lifetime building had been blown to smithereens. For the longest time, that was my story and I stewed in it. Whenever normal post-divorce grief crept in, I went back to it to quell the uneasy feelings. As I replayed it, it fueled enough anger, disguised as strength, to offer a cozy, temporary feeling of relief. That loop became an addicting trap. It soon locked me into a pattern of feeling stuck and powerless to create my new story.

Obviously, not all divorces are the same. Some women leave with fond feelings for their ex-spouses. Some of us do not. It’s fine to feel any way you feel. 

The Healing Power of Creating

To break the loop, I learned that you must engage the body. So that’s where I started. Raw materials don’t care about your past; they respond only to the movement of your hands in the present. Creating with my hands has been a lifesaver for me throughout my seven decades. The task ahead of me was to begin to see my story as only one very subjective version of who I currently was.

To break free, I had to allow the possibility that there was more than one way to view my circumstances. I needed a way to process all of this beyond my logical mind. I came up with a tactile, hands-on method that allowed me to immerse myself in a sensory, visual and physical experience so that something fresh, beautiful and full of promise could emerge from my old, unhelpful story.

In art and other forms of tactile ‘making’, physically transforming materials from one function to serve another with your own two hands is remarkably empowering and anchoring. You can call it up-cycling, but I like to think of it as the ancient tradition of Alchemy, or my old standby – spinning straw into gold.

Deciding to redesign the way I was looking at my yet-to-be-discovered new life immediately pried me out of ‘stuck’ and into forward movement. Coming up with this project was the inspiration I needed. I had finally made the mental shift to reclaim my power. And that was the beginning.

This Is an Easy Project and Lots of Fun

I encourage you to tweak, embellish, edit, and knock yourselves out. There’s no one right way. The important aspect is turning your old story into a beautiful, hand-crafted piece of art that you love and that reflects who you are in the present moment. It reminds me a little bit of the ritual of writing down something you want to let go of, rolling up the paper and throwing it in the fire. That was helpful to me back in the throes of it. However, I found this process to be more complete since it went a step further with the follow through of creating a meaningful piece of art out of an old, rubbish story. It allows lots of room for you to discover the meaning you need. I hope you love this as much as I do. 

Tools and Supplies

Your Base

A piece of strong, thin wood; heavyweight, substantial cardboard or mat board, or any strong, rigid base you can use as the foundation of your new art story. 

The Story Makers

• A fresh, crisp, white piece of art paper. Printer paper is too thin. Feels good in your hands to tear apart. Card stock, sketchbook paper, watercolor paper.
• Your favorite pen to write with. One that has ink that won’t run or dissolve when it’s painted over. 

The Re-Design Tools

• A small dropcloth or vinyl piece to protect a table surface.
• A chosen palette of 3-5 color combinations you love (acrylic craft or art paint, oil pastels, watercolor, colored pencils, or markers)
• A variety of paintbrush sizes. Whatever you have on hand is a wise choice. 

The Grounding

An adhesive that will hold your pieces down (matte gel medium or PVA glue watered down 50/50).

Step by Step Process

Set an Intention

Are you ready to let the old narrative disappear? Choose three adjectives you want your new story to express (e.g., joy, freedom, contrast). 

Write the Story

On a clean sheet of white paper, write out by hand one of the unhelpful, not traumatic, stories that keeps coming up for you. 

(For example, “I’m too old, I’ll never find another partner. I should have pulled the plug on this marriage a long time ago. What’s the matter with me? I make terrible decisions.” And on and on and on. One little thought can spiral out of control. Once the story takes root, it’s difficult to get beyond it.)

Tear It Up

With your hands, tear up your story. Tiny pieces are harder to work with. Bigger pieces allow for more adjustments. You might want to say a few words to ground it and release it. 

Redesign and Layer

Play around with placement of your new story pieces on your chosen base. Tear them smaller if you want. Keep it simple. Don’t overthink it. There are no rules. 

Go to Town with Paint

Paint over your torn pieces using as many coats as needed to cover the words. Let all pieces dry thoroughly. 

Seal It in Place

Take a break and come back with fresh eyes, glue the pieces in place. Use a brayer if you need to smooth them out. 

That’s it. You’ve physically torn up, recovered and redesigned an outgrown story and turned it into a fresh, vibrant piece of expressive art. The fact that the pieces are torn adds layers of complexity and texture – without those tears, the core fibers inside the paper could never be seen.

Stand Back and Look at What You Made

You didn’t erase what happened. The old words are still there, but buried under bright, new paint. An unhelpful narrative transformed into a piece of meaningful art. 

As with any major life shift, thriving may take some time. The old story might try to whisper its way back in. But when it does, look at the object you created. You hold the raw materials. You slosh around with your hands in the paint and the glue. You hold the brush for those special touches only you can create. The process won’t easily be forgotten, and your art will be there as a physical reminder that beauty and joy can emerge from pain.

Let’s Reflect:

How do you deal with pain and betrayal? Do you try to create something good out of the bad?