Showing posts with label subconscious. Show all posts
Showing posts with label subconscious. Show all posts

Tuesday, 1 September 2026

Drawing the multitudes within us

Interoceptual portrait

The phrase, "I am large, I contain multitudes" is taken from Walt Whitman's famous poem 'Song of Myself'. It is a beautiful celebration of human complexity, meaning we all possess multifaceted, often contradictory personalities and emotions that evolve over time. 

I contain multitudes: Bob Dylan

Bob Dylan would more recently follow in Whitman's footsteps, constructing a song that is also a meditation on personal identity seen as a complex mix of contradictions, history and shifting roles, rather than a single, fixed persona. I've become very aware of this as I make interoceptual portraits. People are not fixed identities, their feelings swirl around and one day the feeling tone I'm trying to realise is one particular shape or colour and on another day it changes. Whether this is a change in myself or in the person I'm thinking about I'm not sure, but change is happening and the interpersonal communication is shifting as I attempt to follow or grasp that change using drawing or colour. On the outside we may look the same but inside we are constantly morphing, or at least it seems like this to me. This situation is compounded by the fact that our surrounding social structures are also changing; Zygmunt Bauman in 'Liquid Modernity' describes our contemporary society, as one where all social structures, relationships and institutions are constantly morphing into new formats and concepts. 

For the DC comic Doom Patrol, Grant Morrison and the artist Richard Case invented the character Crazy Jane, the dominant alternate personality of the character Kay Challis. The idea that Morrison and Case were trying to work with was to construct a character who had dissociative identity disorder, in this instance, a person with a total of 64 unique identities. When I was reading Doom Patrol, Crazy Jane was the dominant alter ego or host. They were playing I thought at the time a dangerous game, as in order for this character to be so disturbed, she had had to have had a previous life of deep trauma. This emerged as a story of childhood abuse, and although I could see where Morrison was going with this, it still felt awkward. He was interested in the brain's psychic power. He was also interested and I presume still is, in magic. The magician's ability to seek power over things by using sympathetic magic, involves the transforming of spiritual energy into different forms, so that it can 'inhabit' a fetish or other magical object. This overlaps it seems to me with the power of an art object to hold within it an externalised thought. This boundary or edgeland, being a territory not unlike the wall of the shaman's cave. I have been looking at paleopoetry as an idea recently; pre-linguistic thinking and the split between our old and new brains. The old brain being able to intuitively grasp thoughts without the need for logic. This old brain is still with us and magical thinking is perhaps something that can harness it, leaving the more recent one to worry about what happened. The unconscious is a minefield and one artists have often gone into without any safeguards, because it seems to offer answers that sit totally outside current ideas of how the world ought to behave. It is at times like these that logic seems to fail us. Powerful forces seem at work that are nothing to do with rational thought. I can see why during the first world war Dada came into being; logic seemed to have failed the world, so artists had to turn to illogic or ways of working that owed nothing to the processes of thinking that had led to carnage and the death of millions. 

Although I was worried by Morrison and Case's idea, at the same time it fascinated me and still does. I suspect Morrison and Case had seen 'The Three Faces of Eve'. Christine Costner Sizemore was an American woman who, in the 1950s, was diagnosed with multiple personality disorder, now known as dissociative identity disorder. Her diagnosis became the kernel around which the character 'Eve' was developed for the book and 1957 film. In the film, Eve White a timid, self-effacing woman goes to see a psychiatrist and while there, a "new personality", the wild, fun-loving Eve Black, emerges. Eve Black knows everything about Eve White, but Eve White is unaware of Eve Black. The film depicts Dr. Luther's attempts to understand and deal with these two faces of Eve. Under hypnosis at one session, a third personality emerges, a relatively stable woman but with no name and little memory of her past. She chooses to take the name Jane. who remembers a traumatic event in Eve's childhood. This event had led to the creation of her different personalities. Following this recollection, Jane remembers her entire past and believes the other personalities are gone. During my 1950s comic reading there was also another fictional character who on a daily basis operated as if he had a split personality and that was Superman/Clark Kent. The mild mannered reporter who in a moment could change into the hero, Superman; a split that has been represented as the tension between our private vulnerabilities and our public responsibilities and before that we had Doctor Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, a tale about the struggle between the good and evil living inside every single person. 

Two Face: Matt Wagner design for DC Comics

In the DC franchise Batman comics, 'Two-Face' employs a similar good/evil duality, but this time the duality is plain to see, as his exterior appearance reflects how his interior personality has changed.

The popularity of these characters, I believe reflects our own awareness of having to contain multitudes. I am a 76 year old man with failing knees, but that doesn't stop me in my head, scoring a great goal for West Bromwich Albion, as they go on to win the FA Cup. For a brief moment I am a recreated Jeff Astle, the last man to score a cup final goal for the Albion. One day I can be a positive, outward going creative and the next day an inward looking, tired has-been. I'm interested, I'm bored, I'm lethargic, I'm excited, I'm drunk, I'm sober, I'm frightened of the future, I'm positive about where everything is going, I'm lonely, I'm nervous of crowds, I'm in love, I'm cold hearted, I'm all of these things and many more, so what does an honest portrait of myself look like? 

Interoceptual portraits

Not a pretty sight, but perhaps they do touch a certain nerve. Our unconscious selves are hard to control, we may think our conscious minds lead the way, but if this is the case why are so many people across the world fighting each other, accusing each other of wrongs, responding to slights that are often imaginary, beginning wars because of rumour and attacking people because of some sort of perceived difference and undertaking weaponised behaviour to justify harm. We sure are messed up. 

Maybe we are all more like Crazy Jane than we would like to think. 

Crazy Jane as envisioned by Richard Case

As Whitman put it, amongst many other lines;

I am of old and young, of the foolish as much as the wise,
Regardless of others, ever regardful of others,
Maternal as well as paternal, a child as well as a man,
Stuff’d with the stuff that is coarse and stuff’d with the stuff that is fine,

Whitman's words are a reminder to beware of that best selfie shot, because that is not you. Neither is the winning painting in that portrait competition, so many avidly watch on Sky television. Beware of a good likeness of whatever personality is sent out to have their portrait painted; it is unlikely to have captured anything of their inner reality. A frozen moment of an external appearance may be captured, but we all know we have a 'good side' and a 'bad side' and if our thought dreams could be seen, as Bob put it, they would probably put our heads in a guillotine and how do we capture all of that in one image?

Bauman, Z. (2000) Liquid Modernity London: Polity
Whitman, W. (2016) Song of myself: with a complete commentary. University of Iowa Press.

See also:


Thursday, 6 March 2025

The topology of dreams

Visual representation of “Awake state” vs “Dream state” according the Topographic-dynamic Reorganisation model of dreams

At the end of my post on the Borromean Knot I stated that the topology of dreams was perhaps the next thing to explore. There always seems to be a gap between what goes on in the mind and experience. Sometimes it seems as if we measure all experiences in relation to the experience of being in a particular body. Consciousness being a sort of embodied realisation of the process of becoming aware. But when I dream I'm somehow conscious of something but at the same time not conscious, because I'm asleep. It's interesting to see that Dali's work is still used to indicate dream states, his "paranoiac-critical" method, was a very conscious application of a visual methodology, designed to sit between readings, in order to destabilise a viewer's perception. It is the flitting between states that is perhaps what fascinates artists.

Areas of the brain

Northoff, Scalabrini and Fogel, (2023) when explaining why they have developed their current dream model theory, state that it is produced, "In order to bridge the gap between brain and experience". Their theory is a topographic-dynamic re-organisation model of dreams. They state that t
opographically, dreams are characterised by a shift towards increased activity and connectivity in the default-mode network, (DMN). If that gap can be bridged, it might help me to visualise or at least begin to model in my mind, some sort of diagram of the interrelationship between perception and consciousness. 

Raichle (2015) explains that 'the brain's default mode network consists of discrete, bilateral and symmetrical cortical areas, in the medial and lateral parietal, medial prefrontal and medial and lateral temporal cortices of the brain'. Interestingly, as well as this applying to humans, it applies to other primates, cats and rodent brains as well. 

The discovery of the default mode network reignited a longstanding interest in the significance of the brain's ongoing or intrinsic activity, i.e. a growing awareness that it is always active and doing something, even when it would appear that there is no need for it to be active because we are asleep or at rest. Resting-state studies, have indeed come to play a major role in researching the human brain in relation to health and disease. For instance, 'happiness' is very subjective. It has been suggested that unhappy people are prone to ruminate more and therefore Luo, Kong, Qi, You,& Huang. (2016) have posited that unhappiness may be associated with increased default-mode functional connectivity during rest.  The relative hyper-connectivity of the DMN areas may they argue, be associated with higher levels of rumination, which suggests that those of us who take time to rest, think too much when we do so. 

My recent experience working with people who have suffered traumatic spinal injuries, suggests that the less people are able to use their bodies, the more their mind operates to compensate for this. I have been holding conversations with people in a specialist spinal injuries ward, whereby we work together to visualise how they feel pain. The most active images have emerged from conversations with someone paralysed from the neck down. Perhaps some of the images that have emerged from these types of conversations might become starting points for diagrams of the interrelationship between perception and consciousness. 

Conversational image

But what of dreams, the images out of which so many of our inventions arise, all derived from a time when the body is supposed to be at rest?

From an anxiety dream: The visualisation of an inner feeling

Northoff, Scalabrini and Fogel, (2023), suggest that in dreams, there is a shift away from temporal segregation to temporal integration of brain inputs.  This they believe results in 'bizarre and highly self-centric mental contents, as well as hallucinatory-like states'. However, no matter how interesting this research is, it doesn't really deal with the mind and it would seem to me that it is the mind that is conscious, not the brain. 
I like to play table tennis and one of the reasons I do this is that I don't have to think too much about what I'm doing, I simply have to react. In fact if I try to think about what I'm going to do, I will miss my shot. This tells me that when incoming stimulus is focused and in need of a response, that somehow decisions are much simpler for the mind to make. Twenty seven plus thirty five, is a simple sum, and as I do it in my head, I focus on just that, I don't begin to speculate on other things. But when I sleepdream, or when I daydream, little external stimulus is coming in and therefore in order to keep active, my mind goes on to predict other possibilities, some of which are wonderful, some stupid and some frightening. Even when nothing is coming in via external senses, my mind seems to want to keep processing something; it keeps on trying to predict other possibilities. Perhaps this is why at times we need to be bored. If we look at Bayesian inference theory to explain this, we find that subjective probability lies at the core of how our fast response systems operate. Fight or flight mechanisms are driven by these things, so our body believes in their vital necessity and wants to make sure we are always on guard, even when we don't have to be. It would seem that because of this, what could be seen as a wasted energy process, is in fact one whereby wonderful things like dreams are made to happen. As a model, this closely resembles how most of us operate when we develop a working process for making artwork. Both are iterative processes; according to Bayesian inference theory you receive an initial stimulus, test it and then update your model of the world based on the new information; when making art you set down an initial idea, test it out and then update the idea based on what you have discovered. 

No matter how much better neurological visualisation techniques get, they do not seem to get us any closer to an idea of what consciousness is, or what a mind is. The mind is not the brain, it isn't even located in the brain, being it would seem distributed not just into the body as a whole, (the embodied mind) but out into the world itself, (the extended mind). In, 'You Are the Universe' Deepak Chopra and Menas Kafatos, go one step further and suggest that each of us is a co-creator of reality and that we live in a conscious universe. On the way to their current theory they dismiss animism as a way to think about this, but I still have a personal affection for an animist universe, as it allows me to inhabit and talk with and through non-human animate and inanimate things, if only in my imagination. 

Night thoughts: Climbing out of the subconscious

In the image above, ladders and tree roots are extensions of my body/mind; my hand and arm as they extend out from the edge of the frame, are images of my hand and arm as they extend into my field of vision. The rest of my arm is known to me by proprioception, the interoceptual sense that makes us aware of balance and our body parts. This is also true of anyone who looks at the image, their own sense of inhabiting a body, allows them to feel what it might be like to climb out of the space below the edge of the frame. This inner sense is also part and parcel of my sub-conscious, a state that exists inside my body, just as much as consciousness does. They are intertwined sensations. Memories of ladders and tree roots being another set of neurological energy flows that are woven into the arrival of an image such as the one above.  

Dreams are I believe central to my own imagination and I still keep a notebook at the bedside, so that when dreamt images emerge at night, I don't lose them; even if it means that when I wake I find I don't really understand what it was I was seeing during that night's dream state. It's the mystery that intrigues me, the fact that there is no answer, beyond a belief that there is something beyond the everyday and a feeling that underneath the surface of perception lies something deeper and profound. These are wonderful reasons to keep going, to keep looking for that unknown something that is just outside of my perceptual range. I am in making images looking for something I know is there, but I can never touch, something that I suppose is sometimes called reality. 

There is another theory about how consciousness is constructed, called orchestrated objective reduction theory (Orch OR). It was originally proposed by physicist Roger Penrose and anaesthesiologist Stuart Hameroff in the 1990s. It also, like art, seeks to bridge the gulf between physical matter and felt experience. The idea is that consciousness arises when gravitational instabilities in the fundamental structure of space-time collapse quantum wave functions in tiny proteins called microtubules, which are found inside neurons. Rather than being a product of neural connections, Orch OR posits that consciousness is based on non-computable quantum processing performed by qubits (like binary bits, qubits are the basic units of information in quantum computing), formed collectively in cellular microtubules, a process significantly amplified through the neurons themselves. The qubits are based on oscillating dipoles forming superposed resonance rings in helical pathways throughout lattices of microtubules. The oscillations are either electric, due to charge separation from London forces, or magnetic, due to electron spin. Consciousness therefore arising from quantum computations which are connected to the fine-scale structure of spacetime geometry. If this idea has traction, it might explain how 'spooky action at a distance' works to build some sort of cosmic consciousness, or at least free the mind from its prison within our skulls. The idea has reached the point whereby diagrams can be drawn to illustrate how it works, which for myself means that it has more visual momentum.


A: An axon terminal releases neurotransmitters through a synapse and they are received by microtubules in a neuron's dendritic spine
B: Simulated microtubule tubulins switch states.

David Bohm was very interested in these issues and he proposed a solution by looking at what he called 'implicate' and 'explicate' order, which he thought of as ontological bases for quantum theory, and are used to describe two different frameworks for understanding the same phenomenon or aspect of reality. In particular, the concepts were developed in order to explain the bizarre behaviours of subatomic particles, which quantum physics describes and predicts but struggles to explain. In 'Wholeness and the Implicate Order' he described how differing contexts might change the appearance of certain phenomena. The "implicate" (also referred to as the "enfolded") order, is a deep fundamental order of reality. The "explicate" or "unfolded" order includes the abstractions that humans normally perceive. He stated in relation to this, "In the enfolded [or implicate] order, space and time are no longer the dominant factors determining the relationships of dependence or independence of different elements." (Bohm, 1980) 

As space and time become questioned as to their role in our perceptual understanding of the world, a door is opened into a universe within which the spaces and times of dreaming can be enfolded, their topology perhaps more like that of the tessellations and associated optical illusions that Roger Penrose introduced to Escher, which had a direct effect on his making of the print, 'Ascending and Descending'.

Escher: 'Ascending and Descending'

References

Bohm, D. (1980/2002) Wholeness and the Implicate Order London: Routledge

Chopra, D. and Kafatos, M.C., (2018) You are the universe: Discovering your cosmic self and why it matters. London: Harmony.

Davey, C. G., Pujol, J., & Harrison, B. J. (2016). Mapping the self in the brain's default mode network. NeuroImage132, 390–397. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.neuroimage.2016.02.022

Northoff, G., Scalabrini, A., Fogel, S. (2023) Topographic-dynamic reorganisation model of dreams – A spatiotemporal approach, Neuroscience & Biobehavioural Reviews, Volume 148,

Lau, H.C., (2007) A higher order Bayesian decision theory of consciousness. Progress in brain research168, pp.35-48.

Luo, Y., Kong, F., Qi, S., You, X., & Huang, X. (2016). Resting-state functional connectivity of the default mode network associated with happiness. Social cognitive and affective neuroscience11(3), 516–524. https://doi.org/10.1093/scan/nsv132

Raichle M. E. (2015). The brain's default mode network. Annual review of neuroscience38, 433–447. https://doi.org/10.1146/annurev-neuro-071013-014030

See also: 

The Borromean Knot

Paper and skin

Knots

Benjamin Brett and Geometrical Psychology 

Drawing and quantum theory part one

Drawing and quantum theory part two

Quantum entanglement

The geometry of consciousness

Wednesday, 2 October 2024

Reptiles of the mind

From: Zenodo.org/ 

William Blake wrote that if a person had a fixed point of view or never developed new thoughts, their brain would begin operating as if it had been for too long standing in stale waters and it would begin to breed 'reptiles of the mind'.  

I have been feeling rather stuck lately, and have found it hard to tap into my feelings, especially when it comes to engaging with the people I'm meant to love. I find myself not knowing what to say, realising it is my body that is talking, finding internal sensations churning me around, including a heart beating too quickly or irregularly, my chest feels tight, I'm breathing more quickly than normal and my stomach is clenched, all signs that there are powerful feelings swirling about, but I struggle to find words to name them. I also seek reassurance by seeking physical contact, when touch is probably the last thing someone else wants to give. I retreat into my comfort zone of drawing and making; I lose myself in image making and try to visualise these feelings but to what purpose, I'm not sure. As I draw I can begin to calm my inner churn, but then, out of the recesses of my subconscious, creatures emerge, these are I presume what Blake meant by 'reptiles of the mind'. So should I or shouldn't I let them free? 

I've also begun a process of scanning in some of my sketchbooks in order to support my role as a researcher. As most of my thinking takes place on the drawn page, it seemed to make sense to make them available as part of the research process. 

I have now scanned in two of them and have annotated them, so that my thinking process is more transparent and available to others, but now when I look at them, I begin to wonder if I have a thinking process, perhaps these images are simply traces of a troubled mind.

The sketchbooks 

An observational drawing sketchbook

An ideas development and tap into the subconscious sketchbook 

In the ideas development sketchbook are several 'reptiles of the mind', and I worry that they are a sign of an inability to deal with a proper emotional life, being products of a state of 'stuckness', rather than a record of the imaginative interrogation of an interior life. 

More sample sketchbook pages from: Zenodo.org/ 

So much of art making is maintaining a confidence that what you are doing is worthwhile, and lately my levels of anxiety have been rising to a point where doubts are starting to creep in and I'm questioning what it's all about. 

Perhaps it's just autumn settling in with its associated melancholia. 

See also:

SKETCH exhibition submission

Sketchbooks

Using sketchbooks to think with

Richard Diebenkorn's sketchbooks

Tuesday, 27 September 2022

Freud and drawing invisible forces

Dali: Freud 1939

Dali's drawing of Freud points to his almost mythic status amongst the Surrealists who believed that Freud opened the door to the unconscious and thus to a way of making images that tapped directly into dreams and a collective unconscious that not only legitimised the work that they were doing, it gave it a theoretical foundation. Dali makes Freud almost cloud like, his soft forms drift into being as if arriving from a dream. But Freud could also draw quite well himself, his accurate representations of the nervous system of the sea lamprey meticulously document  spinal nerve cells, reflecting an excellent command of traditional drawing techniques and an eye for the clarification of what are very difficult forms to observe under the microscope. 

Freud: The nervous system of the the sea lamprey

The drawings Freud made when he was a medical student were based on careful microscopic observation of physical bodies. However when he later began to explore the invisible inner workings of the mind, he would find no trace of the mind's processes existing physically, he therefore had to invent another way to represent unseen mental processes. He was very aware that visual representations communicated far more clearly what was going on beneath the skin and so it was clear to him that some form of visual representation would aid him greatly in the communication of his ideas about what was going on deep inside the mind, which at the time was presumed to sit within the brain.



However what Freud didn't take into account was that drawings are also to some extent free floating signifiers, i. e. when looked at the people doing the looking will develop their own interpretations of what they are seeing, especially when the annotations have to be translated. Perceptually a drawing operates like a view of life itself, it becomes a visual field and simply sits in the place of the view that is reality and the brain tries to interpret it as it would any other stimulus coming in. Yes the observer knows its a drawing, but it is still open to interpretation. For example, the diagrams immediately above are from a Japanese book on Freud and they all relate to the original German publication of his diagram bottom left. (Find a larger image of the English translation further above, which is a copy of the image bottom right). As his work was translated from German into Japanese and back into English there were what you might call 'Freudian slips'. For instance in English the Japanese for the German 'Das ich unt das Es' had become 'The I and the it'. Apparently the original German in the diagram bottom left, translated as 'acoust Pcpt' in the English diagram version, is "akustischen Wahrnehmungen" or acoustic perception and is sometimes translated in Japanese as in the above diagram 'A' by "耳殻'(literally the outer part of the ear) or "聴覚帽" an acoustic cap. Therefore the internalised other becomes an aural manifestation or an ear of the other in the mind, which I find perfect as a poetic representation that embeds a cranial stethoscope and a type of ventriloquism into the way the image is read. My recent work trying to visualise tinnitus has also made me very aware of how difficult it is to find the right visual analogies for invisible effects that take place in the acoustic mind. The poetics of the diagrams above open out gracefully as we move from one language of annotation to another. The words eventually become visual textures that intimate a certain way of scanning the linear forms that they accompany. Timothy Takemoto describes the situation in detail; 'The more famous picture B on the left is from the earlier "Vorlesungen zur Einführung in die Psychoanalyse" (Freud, 1916-17) (Introduction to Psychoanalysis) in which the internalised other is represented as an "uber Ich" (literally "over I") commonly translated as "super ego". Uber Ich might be taken to suggest a visual metaphor, so perhaps the new representation in "The Ego and the Id" (1925) was to qualify and make sure that the reader understand, we are talking 'Ear of the Other in Your Head.' 
As an artist looking to visualise tinnitus, the phrase 'ear of the other in your head' has begun to feel like a title for all of the images that have been produced so far. Takemoto is also speaking from what in Japan is called a Nacalian perspective. Nacal is Lacan backwards, and Nacalian refers to the fact that Lacan's theories explain Japanese behaviour quite well if they are turned upside down or back to front. This is I believe a proper way to treat most psychoanalytic theory as it releases theory back into the story ocean and allows those of us who are artists free reign to follow whichever current seems to be taking us in the direction we want to go in. 

But Freud has other diagrams. A Harvard university exhibition devoted to the origins of psychoanalysis explained how Freud used diagrams in detail: 

Emma Eckstein, one of Freud’s early patients and the first female psychoanalyst, was pivotal to Freud’s development of the “seduction theory,” which located the roots of hysteria and the neuroses in early experiences of sexual trauma. Freud used Emma’s neurosis as the example to illustrate how a childhood sexual trauma could reemerge in adulthood in the form of neurotic symptoms. The diagram, from an 1895 letter, conflates the two temporalities (past and present) and maps out the triggering elements for Eckstein’s illness. The black circles stand for conscious events, while the empty circles represent unconscious and repressed memories. As Freud wrote to Fliess the next year, memory-traces in the past were subject to rearrangement and revision in the present—a process known as nachträglichkeit or “deferred action.”

Freud's original diagram for the triggering elements for Eckstein’s illness.

Freud also made diagrams to visualise the architecture of hysteria and melancholia.

The architecture of hysteria

Melancholia

Those of us that were given Paul Klee's Pedagogical Sketchbook to read in our early years of art training will recognise a certain sort of mind at work, one that Klee illustrated beautifully. It is interesting to map off Freud's diagrams with Klee's visual interpretations, as in for instance the two images of Klee's below, one visualising the sexual reproduction of plants and the other how the heart pumps, both Freud and Klee are aware of the diagrammatic power of drawing to not just illustrate but to fundamentally recreate ideas as visual realities. 

From Klee's The Pedagogical Sketchbook

Diagram from 'On Transformations of Instinct in Anal Erotism'

Freud often wrote about the “anal personality,” who he argued had the traits of “orderliness, parsimony and obstinacy.” He stated this was most probably due to childhood faeces retention. As was explained in the Harvard University exhibition of Freud's drawings, 'The child wishes to retain the most primary gift (a faeces), resisting its loss; later, the trait is mostly manifested through a desire for cleanliness. The drawing demarcates the process of substitution among the various signifiers along two main axes, one running diagonally between faeces (Lumpf) and baby (Kind), and the other running horizontally between baby and penis'. 

Diagrams were a way for Freud to clarify his ideas, but they also gave his ideas a physical presence and therefore more gravitas and added weight to his theoretical ideas. 






His earlier work exploring neurons  

Freud's drawings could also be looked at as totally abstract images, if we compare his drawing of neurons above to a drawing by Hans Arp below, both drawings could be explained as being explorations of how basic forms could be organised. 

Hans Arp

Freud's drawings also reflect the various journeys his mind was taking at the time. Which is perhaps all we can ask of any drawings. 



Freud's freehand drawn diagram of the unconscious above can also be read as a mind roughing out an idea. Freud was very interested in how the body might be 'seen' in the mind. He stated that the brain’s fibres and cells “contain the body periphery in the same way as a poem contains the alphabet, in a complete rearrangement” and that “the body periphery is not projected onto the cortex in a simple and direct fashion ... but rather it is represented there”.  He believed that the mind represented the body abstractly and symbolically. Mental functions are dynamic and exist over time, and they involve processes that cannot be seen and cannot easily be drawn. This was why Freud gave up observational drawings and began to use diagrams. Freud's drawing above is a record of an event, which is another reason why it is so interesting. Perhaps you might try and represent other types of events that have happened in your own life. For instance how you came to realise something, or how a process of thinking that you use could be understood. These are good ways of exploring drawing as a way to understand things beyond the observational.  Events make up processes that are themselves entangled into other processes and different types of drawing can be aligned with different types of events, for instance a diagrammatic representation is different to a map of where things are, which is different to a sketch outlining what the situation might look like, but all use the potential of drawing to carry concepts. Drawings are of course normally static, compressed translations of events, and it is interesting to think of these static consolidations of dynamic processes as batteries and how drawings can release the energy of 'trapped' events to be read as types of narratives. 
At the same time that Freud was speculating on the unconscious, other people who are now forgotten were doing the same thing, one of my favourites was Edwin Babbitt, who's book 'Principles of light and colour', contains some fascinating insights into how others were trying to get to grip with visualising invisible forces. If the unconscious seems now a normal part of our everyday conceptual framework, a hundred years ago there were several other theoretical competitors around, and light itself often seemed central to their gestation. A few pages from 'The Principles of Light and Colour' should I hope be enough to whet your appetites for further investigation of concepts such as 'chromo-mentalism' and the various radiating rays that penetrate and emerge from our bodies. 

The angel of innocence and Psycho-magnetic curves emanating from the temple

Psychic lights and colours

The general form of an atom

Odic lights and flames

Babbitt introduces us to Odic lights and his diagram of the atom is an amazingly beautiful construction of pure poetic fiction believing itself to be a depiction of what lies beneath reality. Babbitt would have believed in these theories just as much as Freud believed his, and interestingly many psychologists have been trying to debunk Freud over the last few years, his theories being regarded as yet more examples of middle class white males, turning their idiosyncratic views of the world into theories that explain everything from their privileged position. 

As an artist who draws a lot I am much more interested in the power of images to hold our attention, not as proofs or understandings, but as magical encounters, doorways into ways of thinking that we would not normally have, and as such I can look at Babbitt's drawing of the general form of an atom and see hearts pumping, bees swarming and yes atoms vibrating, all entangled into the same fluid image, an image that for myself is as much about the future as the past. 

See also: