DISCOVER THE CREATIONS OF MCALLISTER
About Me
I’m McAllister. I have an undergraduate degree in psychology, a doctorate in psychology, and more recently, I earned an MFA in writing. I am also an artist and I have lived experience as a person in the mental health system. I convey my complex story through my drawing and writing. I use this hybrid medium to enable the reader to see my experiences through my unique lens. This website features my artwork and reflections on some drawings, offering entry points into the themes that shape my work.
“Companions” (2025) oil pastel
Throughout the time I was in hospitals, I was pretty much separated from my family and all the people I had ever known. Memories, idealized people, and even fantasies of connections sustained me. These relationships could be real such as an idealized version of my connection with my sister, or they could be aspects of myself. I held onto whatever I could and when I couldn’t hang on to the outside world, I had a rich inner world which housed both good and bad fantasies of being a part of something bigger. My inner world was full of thoughts and feelings which came alive in a way that kept me absorbed and disconnected from my surroundings. This inner absorption protected me.
From the chapter “Fenwood Inn”
There was a flash of lightening followed by a loud crack of thunder. I was lulled to into a trance by the noise. I was transported back to my sister Elizabeth’s bedroom. I was 9 and she was 2. My mom had just kissed us goodnight and Elizabeth had allowed me to climb in bed with her as long as I didn’t wet the bed. I wet the bed almost every night until I was 13.
A flash lit up her bedroom, followed by thunder.
Elizabeth said, “Let’s see if it’s getting closer.”
We counted out loud together. “One Mississippi, two Mississippi, three Mississippi, four…” Then we both shrieked with the clap of thunder.
“Ok. Let’s see if it gets less than four, or goes up. If it goes down, the storm is getting closer,” Elizabeth said. Her blue eyes shone in the dark.
With each flash, we started counting. The excitement and dread built as the time between flash and thunder shrank.
Finally, the flash happened with the thunder. The house shook and we hugged each other shrieking, terrified and exhilarated.
I always loved thunderstorms. I never imagined the real dangers of the storms like possible fire, flooding, or wind damage. The anticipation of the storm was a rush. Fear combined with a thrill.
Over time, the storm died down and I grew sleepy, trying to hear the distant thunder. Counting as long as I could. My mind drifted away from the excitement of the storm and I fell into a deep sleep.
“Distorted Self” (2024) charcoal
My old identity slipped away and I had no idea who I was anymore. I had nothing to hold on to, no way to understand who I was or what was happening to me. I had somehow gotten so far off-course and I believed it was my fault. But I could not see anything in myself that had power, and I did not believe that I could change the course I was on. I could not see myself clearly. I did not see what was going wrong internally nor did I see what strengths I had to get myself out of horrible situations.
From the chapter “Bow Lake”
I looked out the window towards the lake. I tried to look past my reflection and could make out the trees along the edge of the water. They looked like thick black spider veins reaching toward the sky. The water was hard to see between the monstrous nearby trees and the lights of houses across the lake. The oasis, the reason the house was built there, was now a background feature.
It grew darker and now all I could see was my reflection and the inside of the house behind me. My dad was to the side and had disappeared out of my vision as I stared into the blurry rendition of that moment. I felt safer in that blur than I did in the room. I don’t know what I was thinking. In my memory, I am floating there suspended between my physical body and the reflection.
“Shielding” (2025) colored pencil
I lived in fear of being exposed. I believed anyone could be a risk to me in some way. I was vulnerable and alone. I had no one to shield me. No one who knew the whole story, and at that point, I did not want anyone to know what I had been through or what I was going through. The only way I could figure out how to protect myself was to hide in one way or another. To shield my face, to try to camouflage by blending in, or to completely withdraw into my own inner world.
“Aperture” (2026) colored pencil
Aperture has to do with controlling the amount of light that is let through to expose images, bringing some aspects more into focus and limiting the exposure of others. As I gain more insight over time, I can see things more clearly. The background static of complex emotions are no longer the primary focus, but served as the landscape behind which the main factors pop. Seeing this allows me to gain a clearer perspective of what happened and why and to get a better sense of how unusually complex my experiences have been.