A sculptress, psychotherapist and author, Satya Winkelman is unquestionably a multitalent. Whatever field she applies herself to, she always sets the same lofty standard for herself: to seek and tell the truth. Winkelman even renounced her given name, Carol, and assumed a new and more befitting one. In Sanskrit, Satya means “truth”.

Winkelman is not in search of a single, universal truth. Such an absolute might prove difficult, if not impossible to find. Truth, for Satya, is an individual matter and there are as many truths as there are individuals. Fortunately for all of us, our personal authenticity is fully attainable, provided we are willing to reach out, or rather reach in for it. Winkelman has already found her “authentic self.” As an artist she openly displays it in her clay sculptures. As a healer (or “change agent”) she helps others find their own identity and the courage to express it creatively.

And herein lies the problem. “Our society has trained our creativity out of us,” complains Satya. “We are taught to color within the lines and suppress who we really are. We are all geniuses but most of us have not realized it. We are afraid of ourselves. We play it safe. We play roles. Look what that has given us so far. We need to stop warring with each other and just following the leader.” To overcome our identity crisis and fulfill our potential, Satya believes we need to lead ourselves, and she can show us how.

Trained and certified in both art therapy and psychodrama, Winkelman has developed a unique treatment known as “take-action training”, in which she utilizes the health-giving power of acting and art. First, she helps her clients feel safe. She quiets their minds through breathing exercises and music. Next, Satya teaches them how to center themselves and focus their energy on the present moment. Once they’ve achieved a meditative state, they are taken on a guided visualization of shadow and light. “In this vision quest you meet your challenges,” says Satya. “Just like a hero or heroine in a fairy tale, everyone is challenged in life by their historical dragons. And then a magic happens. You attain a power that lets you either go around the fire of your challenge or traverse it head-on.” Through the Fire, incidentally, is the title of Winkelman’s recent book on self-transformation.

Over the last 25 years Satya has practiced her expressive therapy techniques not only in psychiatric hospitals but also in the mainstream. She’s counseled couples, conducted womens’ workshops and come to the aid of an eclectic, international and frequently male clientele. Oddly enough, Satya taught self-acceptance to the bishops and deacons of the Church of Scotland. She provided creativity training for the Navy and the Army Corps of Engineers. Her services were also engaged by AT&T and RCA, as well as big pharmaceutical and computer firms. Satya has put numerous male corporate executives in touch with their femininity, despite their initial, and unfounded, concerns about coming across as girlish.

The truth is, men and women have both masculine and feminine aspects to their nature. The masculine principle is the one that is protective, competitive and assertive. It goes out into the world and makes things happen. It establishes boundaries, it defines and illuminates. The feminine side is the “dark” side, but not in the Jungian sense. It is not evil, just obscure, undefined, boundaryless and ever-flowing. Feminine attributes include compassion, intuition and emotion.

According to Winkelman, our feminine aspect has been devalued over the ages. The world has been oriented to the masculine, to logic, measurement and conquering. Being emotional and nurturing has been scorned in society. It’s high time to bring back some balance, to bring out our femininity, that hidden, amorphous side of us that we so fear. “When you confront someone with their own shadow, you show them the light,” says Satya. “The more you know what you’re suppressing, the wiser you’ll be.” Winkelman does not judge our masculine or feminine energies. Neither one is good or bad. “It’s an is,” she says. “Just like with your hands: you have a right hand and a left hand. You may use one hand more or be more skilled with one, but you have both.”

Satya, of course, uses both of her hands to model her raku sculptures, and with skill, one might add. In the last 18 years she has created several hundred mostly female figurines. Her healer’s touch is apparent in all of them. There’s a certain wisdom, motherliness and love in her work, something wholly natural. After all, she has chosen the most natural of materials, earth, from which to fashion her earth goddesses. Some of them evoke Neolithic fertility idols while others integrate ethnocultural influences from her extensive travels.

Winkelman has a curious tendency to simultaneously incorporate both female and male genitals into her pieces. She either does it explicitly or with such clever subtlety that it is barely noticeable. Because of that, her work has occasionally provoked controversy. But unfairly so. There is absolutely nothing vulgar about it. Under no circumstances is it meant to sexually titillate. Nor does it address androgyny or intergender issues.

First and foremost, Satya’s pieces are objects of beauty and balance. She actually has the audacity to depict reproductive organs for their aesthetics. But primarily she sees them as symbols of the masculine and the feminine. Her message is clear: the two energies should coexist in a state of equilibrium, in all of us. Furthermore, Satya suggests that traditional gender identities and roles may no longer be tenable.

One of Winkelman’s most inventive pieces is entitled “No Body’s Perfect.” It represents a limbless, headless woman with pronounced male sex characteristics. On the bottom are massive buttocks, which resemble testicles. From these rises an elongated scarred torso, which looks a lot like a veined penis. On top are two breasts whose nipples also function as eyes. Beyond its anatomical whimsy, this piece is meant as an attack on our obsession with perfection. “Despite so-called flaws like small breasts, a long waist or a large dimpled butt, women can be beautiful. Imperfection is not a disease. Actually, perfectionists are the most miserable people I know.” Satya wants women to accept themselves as they are, only then can they be truly happy.

“Anything to Please” is another standout piece. It’s a statuette of a robed woman and it, too, is unmistakably phallic. Glazed with lead, it has a shiny, lubricated look. What appear to be labia run along its front and they seem to be buttoned together in two places. Erotic connotations aside, this woman is bent over backwards at an impossible angle. Her eyes are closed and she smiles with content. The implication, obviously, is that women should stand up for themselves. “Women have been trained to do anything to make others happy,” says Satya. “They stay in marriages and jobs just to please. I too was raised to be a good little girl, to always say yes. Women have said yes forever when they meant no.”

Satya does not plan her figures in advance. She simply grabs some clay and starts to play with it. Eventually her feelings come out in the material and a form emerges. Satya likens the malleability of clay to that of humans. “Clay is made of the same stuff we are: water and dirt. If it’s too hard it will crack, if it’s too soft it will wobble, just like our personalities.”

It may be argued that we are not ourselves. We have been molded by others, by parents, teachers, authority figures and the media. Once we become aware of our mold though, we can break out of it. It’s up to us to shape ourselves, to “become the artists of our own self-concept,” as Satya puts it. “Don’t look at my art,” she says. “Look at yourself and your belief system. If it no longer serves you, change it, make it your own.”

– Daniel Petrov, 7/7/10