When pictures say more than words: The language of symbols
- alinaniedermark
- Apr 29
- 3 min read
Sometimes there's just a hunch. A color that emerges. A form that manifests itself. A motif that appears again and again in one's own artistic work, as if of its own accord. Without having consciously chosen it, but rather as if it had forced its way to the surface.
This is how many of my paintings and ideas develop: not from a rational concept, but from an inner movement, a stillness, from something that wants to reveal itself. I often work with a combination of figurative and abstract elements. Ideas for the figurative elements usually arise beforehand, from this inner pull towards a particular motif. Abstract elements usually develop intuitively in the process. Often only afterwards do I begin to understand what the chosen motif, what these shapes and colors are trying to tell me. I then realize that they are symbols – expressions of inner processes, condensed meanings that elude direct language.
Symbols are like bridges. They connect our consciousness with deeper layers of our being: with the unconscious, with archetypal images, with collective experiences older than ourselves. They are complex and ambivalent, never entirely definable, and therein lies their magic. A symbol can simultaneously touch, irritate, shake, or comfort. It can awaken an inkling of something that is not yet fully revealed, but is already approaching.
In symbolic language, we encounter the inexpressible. Something that cannot (yet) be put into words, but still wants to be seen, felt, and recognized. This could be an animal that appears again and again. A circle that closes. A window that opens. Or a forest that can simultaneously represent protection and confusion. The meaning of such images is often not immediately apparent—sometimes never fully—and yet they are effective. They speak a language that reaches deeper than our thoughts.
Art offers an inexhaustible space for such images. They may appear, change, disappear, and return. One doesn't necessarily have to explain them, but simply let them be there. Often, they reveal a knowledge that goes deeper than the intellect: a knowledge of the body, the soul, the inner world of images.
Symbolic language also plays a central role in art therapy. When clients paint, model, or create collages, precisely such images often emerge, seemingly casually yet highly meaningfully. A painted boat on the open sea can suddenly reflect an entire life situation: the feeling of having lost one's course or the courage to drift. Absolutely everything in the picture can be a clue. Emerging motifs, shapes, and colors are accompanied by strong emotions and possible levels of meaning, which, brought from within to the outside with the resulting work, can be discussed together and serve as a starting point for subsequent creative work.
This is where the therapeutic value of symbolic language lies: It allows you to connect with inner parts without having to immediately name or explain them. It creates a protected space for projection, reflection, and insight. And sometimes just looking at such an image is enough to set something in motion.
In a world that often strives for clarity, symbolic language demonstrates a great openness to ambiguity. It invites us to linger, to feel, to question. It reminds us that not everything needs to be understood to be deeply felt. I believe that art that embraces this very symbolism is vibrant, profound, and meaningful, full of soul. And for those who look closely, feel, and listen, worlds reveal themselves.
Perhaps certain images keep appearing in your life. Perhaps there are colors that particularly accompany you during certain phases. Perhaps your dreams reveal motifs you can't yet classify. Then it's worth taking a closer look. Not with the goal of immediate understanding and having to rationally break everything down, but rather to enter into dialogue. Because somewhere between image and meaning, between form and feeling, between inside and outside, lies a space that is incredibly fulfilling and rich—full of stories just waiting to be told.

Comments