Healing through art

After moving from Mexico to New Zealand with hopes of starting a clinical psychology practice, a sudden health crisis forced a change of plans. Through art and community, Alicia Rocha’s unexpected journey became one of healing, creativity, and purpose – blending mental health, resilience, and connection in a new home, as told to Alistair Hughes.

I was born and raised in Monterrey, Mexico, and came to New Zealand straight after finishing my bachelor’s degree in clinical psychology in 2017. I thought: ‘I'm just gonna go to New Zealand and open my own practice.’ But then I realised that it's not the same here. To register, you have to study in New Zealand. And to study, you have to wait for permanent residence, so the quickest way to be in the field of mental health was for me to work as a support worker with high and complex needs residents. And I really enjoyed my job, but due to the lack of time and staff, I felt the emotional and moral duty of being at work at all times, because you're working with people that are very vulnerable, and they really need consistency. They need someone they can trust.

A new beginning, a sudden setback

At certain stages I was doing 100 plus hours a week, and then one night at work, I just collapsed; blacked out. I woke up in the middle of a seizure, banging my head against the concrete floor. There was no one else there, but I decided to stay on shift. The next morning, my boss took me to the ER. She was worried because I was pale, even though I have brown skin. I told her I didn’t know what had happened, but I felt fine.

Then three days later, I woke up almost blinded by the daylight with an intense migraine, vertigo and nausea. So I kind of became a ‘vampire’ after that. I couldn't go out, I couldn't stand the light, or any noise. And I had to basically learn how to walk again, using a cane.

Unleashing creativity

My occupational therapist suggested Magenta, which is a creative space for people struggling with their wellness journey, where you can just pop in and start creating. So I went there for the first time two years ago, and I saw this beautiful oil canvas that an artist who had passed away left behind. It was a forest landscape, but it was incomplete. So I took on that painting as a first project, and developed it into a whimsical world. Creatures from my subconscious mind just appear. I don't pre-draw anything, it went straight onto the canvas. I think there is no such thing as mistakes, you just ‘go for it’, painting all your feelings. I never went to art school, so this was part of my journey, to discover a part of myself that I didn't know was there. My inner creative artist was ready to show up, I guess.

The Magenta staff were really supportive. And they asked, “Would you like to do our first mural on our wall in the street?” That's quite an honour, and I said yes, of course. I had never done something like that before, but I was happy to give it a go. And so that mural is based on that first landscape that I converted into this magical world, called ‘Dreamland’.

After that, I guess I took my art more seriously and participated in one of the fundraisers for the Victory Boxing Academy, who have a programme to help young people. Then another artist, Karolina Serrano from Shared Communities, invited me to become involved in a community project, leading the creation of a very large mural covering a renovation of the church in front of NMIT on Nile Street. This was with participation from the migrant community. And from there, I was offered a solo project, which was the axolotl I painted on one of those electrical boxes (Nelson Electricity Limited utility boxes) around the city. This was sponsored by Quinn Dental and Make/Shift Spaces and was very special because I had the opportunity to think of my roots, and where I am now. I immigrated to this beautiful country, which is now part of me and has helped me to become this person who is a lot happier. Not quite fully recovered from the concussion, but pretty much almost there, thanks to art.

Growth, purpose, and giving back

We're very diverse here in Nelson and so the axolotl was my way of painting something that symbolises resilience. If that animal loses a body part, like a leg or its tail, it will grow back again. They’re very strange creatures, because they look like they're always smiling. But I didn't put a smile on mine, because I think, like a lot of our migrant community, we evolve and transform but can never feel the same as where you come from, and you leave family behind. A lot of people come here from very difficult backgrounds, and they have wounds from that past. So you might be carrying a smile, but behind that smile there has been quite a journey and struggle.

With these new beginnings, you can also grow, not just physically but also emotionally and psychologically. Your mindset expands and you grow new parts of yourself. You become something, although the essence is still you. It’s an ongoing process. In my case, I grew an ‘arm’ which is this creative part of me, and now it's reinforcing this core of psychology that I can offer to people who need it most.

I think we are all in difficult times, and although there is a lot of easy interaction through social media, we’re missing true and genuine connection. Making people feel like they're not isolated is my passion and my goal, to sometimes be that bridge and support. We had a night market with the Shared Communities and it was really great to see how people embraced it.

I connected with a lot of people in the art scene. And then I met Tanya Nock, the creative manager and director of Cultural Conversations. She invited me to be one of the artists there, and also to help the women of our community with their own business journeys. I offered therapy for migrant people and others who really need affordable counselling. That is something I was looking forward to, and I am so happy that it has happened in this beautiful community.

I was forced to find a way that I could still support people after my concussion, and I have art in my life, which became a tool in my recovery. I can now advocate for arts and mental health as part of the Magenta staff, because art can be really powerful when you utilise it to connect and thrive.

If someone asked me five years ago: “What will you be doing in New Zealand?” – this probably wouldn't have been my first answer!