Dani joined us for a non-clinical placement whilst studying for his doctorate in Clinical Psychology. During his time with us he volunteered on several projects, including Visible Voices with Dorin Park and Live! Cheshire, Hidden Histories: recording stories and memories from older people at Frodsham Memory Cafe alongside taking part in creative workshops and exploring his creative voice in the studio.
Before I first stepped into Radiate Arts, I was given a very clear message by my doctoral course: whatever you do, DO NOT OFFER THERAPY. You are there to connect with people on a human level, and learn about how services outside of the NHS operate. Be a helping hand. Be a kind ear. Be a volunteer. Makes sense, right? At least, that’s what I thought.
What I didn’t expect was how much this placement would challenge - and expand - my understanding of what it means to be a Clinical Psychologist. In a setting where the therapy is reserved for trained staff, my role was less about practicing my clinical skills and more about engaging with the raw, inspiring energy of a truly creative community. Little did I know how much I’d learn in the 21 days between October and December 2024 that I spent volunteering, not just about creativity, but about finding value in stepping back and letting go. This meant rewiring my brain a bit!
As a Trainee Clinical Psychologist, my instinct is to listen for therapeutic cues and respond supportively - it’s practically in my DNA at this point! But here, I had to resist that urge and embrace a different approach. Instead of jumping in with therapeutic tools, I had to engage in ways that didn’t stray into therapy territory, which felt a bit like being handed a toolbox but told, “nope, just use the hammer!”
This challenge actually turned out to be incredibly valuable. I learned that meaningful engagement doesn’t always mean “doing the evidence-based thing”; sometimes, it’s about being present, engaging, and, well, human. It also taught me that restraint can be a skill. Surprisingly, holding back made me feel more connected with people in a whole new way - and with fewer “tell me more about that” moments! Redefining my professional boundaries has given me a new appreciation for the many ways we can connect and support each other without reaching for therapy mode every time. And let’s be honest, it’s nice to just have a good chin wag without playing the mental gymnastics of figuring out what part of the therapy model I need to introduce next!
"I started to trust my abilities and see that creativity isn’t about being “the best” - it’s about showing up, trying new things..."
Volunteering at Radiate Arts meant diving headfirst into creativity - paintbrushes, clay, and, yes, even a bit of glitter. At first, my “inner critic” was on high alert. I think my first day has been permanently engraved into my brain. We were doing a practice workshop involving clay and a Life Model. I remember it vividly - no, not that! - I mean standing next to a seasoned artist, in a room full of creative genius, thinking, “Oh, you’re all sculpting masterpieces? Cool, I just made… the leaning tower of melted ice-cream.” Imposter syndrome hit hard, but gradually, I found my creative groove. It was a bit like learning to cook when you can’t pronounce half the spices in your kitchen - you start out throwing ingredients in, hoping you don’t accidentally poison your family, and then realise that the food is, heaven forbid, edible?
The creative atmosphere was contagious, and before I knew it, I was experimenting with colours, styles, and materials. Each day, I felt my confidence grow, thanks to the encouragement (and patience!) of those around me. There’s something empowering about being in a space where everyone’s in “creative mode,” embracing their own quirks and artistic flairs. Bit by bit, I started to trust my abilities and see that creativity isn’t about being “the best” - it’s about showing up, trying new things, and maybe accepting that some of my work will, indeed, look like a confused rock.
My first project stemmed form the aforementioned live model clay session. Going into the session, I had no clue what to expect. When I arrived, Pam and Alex explained to me that they had a ‘rotating platform’ for the model to stand on - all of a sudden my imagination ran riot. I was expecting to make a model from head to toe, probably in some futuristic space outfit, and was already panicking about how I’d make the helmet detachable without decapitating the sculpture! About a minute after I had gone on this psychological adventure, I was shown the actual rotating platform, and realised that it had to be rotated manually, and then felt a bit embarrassed about how big of a deal I made this out to be in my head - despite not vocalising any of this!
Quickly, I felt my nerves settle and before I knew it, I was knuckle-deep in clay. I found the whole process therapeutic - from feeling the clay between my fingers, to humming along to the music in the background (I mean, how can you not sing along to Chappell Roan’s hits?!), to having great, reflective conversations about the arts. I ended up with a bust, which I added a base to, and left to dry for a week. I then painted it gold, layering wet brown, orange, and green paint over the top to create an antique, weathered look. This was inspired by Pam, who painted a mask with a similar technique. Honestly, it was one of the coolest things I’d seen, and I thought, “I need to try that!” The finished piece now sits proudly on my mantlepiece as a vase—equal parts quirky and sentimental.
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