Business of Feeling Better

Art holds space for emotions, but now it often comes with a price tag, an aesthetic, and a question about what’s real healing.

By — Saanvi Mohan

'art therapy isnt always found in workshops and cafes sometimes its just the person and their art finding peace'; photograph- Saanvi Mohan, in frame- Aditya Verma

“Everytime life felt tough, I would just put music on and paint, till I actually started feeling better, art is my escape.” Srishti Tyagi, 21, a psychology student at Delhi University.

Art has always been our unofficial therapist. Long before anyone used words like mindfulness or wellness, people painted when they were overwhelmed, sang when they were heartbroken, danced when they were joyful, and crafted simply because it felt good. Creativity was instinctive, not scheduled into workshops or marketed as self-care. What has changed today isn’t art’s power to comfort; it’s the way that feeling is increasingly packaged, branded, and sold back to us as an experience.

You can see this shift clearly in cities like Delhi. Pottery cafés, art studios, and museum workshops now promote creativity as relaxation, emotional escape, or stress relief. Places like Claytheraepy Ceramic Studio in Vasant Kunj, New Delhi, run beginner pottery workshops that usually last around 2–2.5 hours and cost roughly ₹1,200–₹1,500 per session. ChalkBoard Pottery and Art Studio in Hauz Khas Village, New Delhi, hosts hands-on pottery and craft workshops that typically last about 2–3 hours, with sessions priced around ₹1,499 onwards. Many pop-up pottery cafés and creative workshops across Delhi also offer shorter activities, for example sessions at cafés in Janpath or central Delhi that start at about ₹499 for roughly 1–2 hours. Even museum programmes at the Kiran Nadar Museum of Art, located at DLF South Court Mall, Saket, organise public workshops, talks, and guided activities that encourage visitors to engage with art in a relaxed, social way.

For many participants, the appeal lies in the break from routine. “I work in corporate and most of my day is spent staring at a screen,” says Riya Sharma, 27, intern at a tech company, who attended a weekend pottery session in Hauz Khas. “For two hours I was just focusing on clay in my hands. I didn’t think about emails or deadlines, and that felt strangely calming.”

'In the business of feeling better Pearl and Srishti find themselves spending a good amount of money at a pottery cafe to feel good'; photograph- Saanvi Mohan, in frame- Pearl Mohan and Srishti Tyagi

Some people come simply out of curiosity. “I booked a pottery workshop with friends thinking it would just be a fun activity,” says Arjun Mehta, 24, a marketing professional in Delhi. “But once I started shaping the clay, I realised how quiet my mind became. It’s messy and imperfect, but that’s what makes it relaxing.”

Together, these spaces make art feel social, approachable, and less intimidating and that’s genuinely a good thing. “We’re aware that people sometimes come in expecting something deeply therapeutic, and while that can happen, our intention isn’t to replace therapy. We design these workshops as gentle entry points, spaces where people can slow down, reconnect with their hands, and maybe rediscover creativity without pressure. The experience is guided, but the feeling it creates is still very personal.” says Sonia Kohli, owner of Chalkboard, a pottery studio in Delhi. Alongside these recreational spaces, trained expressive-arts practitioners in India offer structured art therapy using painting, music, movement, drama, and mixed-media practices specifically designed to help people process emotions in safe therapeutic settings.

At the same time, the rise of creative wellness raises interesting questions. Many art-based healing experiences come with entry fees, curated aesthetics, and Instagram-ready settings, which can make wellbeing feel like a lifestyle accessory rather than a universal need. “I expected the workshop to feel calm and therapeutic, but honestly it was quite chaotic,” says Kunal Verma, 25, who attended a pottery session in Delhi. “People were talking loudly, taking photos, and rushing to finish their pieces. It felt more like a social activity than therapy. After paying around ₹1,500 for two hours, I kept thinking I could have spent that money on an actual therapy session instead.” Tyagi mentioned that she had spent Rs.2000 just to go to a cafe and paint, click pictures and she then spent more to have food and drinks there. “It was fun, but I realised the experience was almost more about the photos than the painting,” she says. This commercialisation of art as an expression unknowingly tries to exclude a certain class.

'Did they find therapy at this cafe? no, but it was fun and maybe that counts too.' photograph- Saanvi Mohan

Yet art itself refuses to stay exclusive. People still doodle absent-mindedly in notebooks, sing loudly in their rooms, dance in kitchens, or make things simply because they need to. Those moments rarely get labelled therapy, but they often carry the same emotional release. Art never needed branding to heal, it was already doing the job long before anyone thought of selling the experience.