- Racquel Barnes

- Sep 6
- 2 min read
I rarely make an active effort to look at other people’s art as I do not wish to unintentionally replicate what I have seen and lose an authenticity in my expression.
Nonetheless, when it catches my eye, I cannot help but look.
I recently went to an exhibition put on by the Bethlem Royal Hospital Museum, where they were showing work by an Artist called Mud (I believe the exhibition is on until end of September). This exhibition shows the journey of Mud's experiences of mental health, and using mental health services. I strogly recommend you going, as the pieces and their descriptions felt like firewood had been thrown into my furnace. Mud had pieces that felt prescriptive to a lot of the hurt many of us carry and could connect to.

The message behind Mud’s art spoke to me on so many levels. For me the piece above (plus many others, though I will not share all the pieces of Mud's exhibition I loved, as I do feel it is worth the visit) shouted back at all oppressive voices that egoically impose art is to be accessed by a "certain few". It rebels at the idea that art is something one must have to study in order to be an artist, or that art has to “look a certain way” in order for it to have meaning. And I find it sad, but understandable when I draw with someone and they say "I don't know how to draw, I am not very good at art" even for those who have studied art! Mud's exhibition for me, felt like it spoke out against the various "ism's" that try to make people feel insecure and restricted in their creative ability.
For me, artistic expression, be it drawing to dancing is firstly ancestral + intuitive, it is ritualistic, personal and something enjoyed in isolation or with community. So by that nature, we are all artist, for we represent the largest art-form ever known to humankind, Life.
I have not yet had the honour to meet Mud, but should I do, I hope to look them in their eyes and say thank you. Thank you for this soul felt expression, thank you for speaking to all of our inner child’s, thank you for the encouragement and thank you for turning your pains into passion.
One Love, always.
Racquel.



