Art, Making, and Mental Health
Art, Making, and Mental Health
This month, I’m proud to be exhibiting in Recovered Futures, an annual exhibition run by the Richmond Fellowship Queensland, now celebrating its 33rd year. The show highlights the power of creativity in recovery and wellbeing, and I’m honoured to be part of it.
Artmaking has long been a safe space for me as a source of focus, purpose, and grounding during times of mental health struggle. I’ve lived with anxiety and depression for many years, and more recently, I was diagnosed with ADHD. That diagnosis brought a great deal of clarity and relief, helping me understand the patterns that shape my days: the bursts of energy, the deep focus, and the times when overwhelm creeps in.
Through it all, painting has remained constant. Drawing from life is central to my practice; it offers calm, clarity, and connection. It is my mindfulness practice. When I sit down to draw in the garden, a piece of fruit, or the view outside my studio window, I’m drawn into the present moment. My mind slows, my breathing steadies, and the noise of the world fades into the background.
Of course, there are difficult days. Some days, it is hard to begin, and I have learnt to manage that feeling. The studio can be both a sanctuary and a challenge; creative work demands honesty, and that can be confronting. But I’ve learned that showing up is the important part. Even when the work doesn’t flow, the act of being there, tidying up, mixing paint, making marks, is therapy. I show up for myself.
My practice has always been connected to my immediate environment. The landscapes and gardens around my home are more than subjects; they are spaces of reflection and renewal. I see echoes of my own experience in the cycles of growth, decay, and regeneration. Noticing those glimmers of exceptional and fleeting beauty is an essential part of my practice and being. One of my favourite books is “ god of the Small Things” and that is how I approach appreciating the divine in the everyday.
What I love about the Recovered Futures exhibition is that it celebrates exactly this: recovery as an ongoing, individual process. There’s no neat beginning or end, only the daily act of finding balance and meaning. Creativity plays a huge role in that, giving form to thoughts and emotions that can be hard to express any other way.
For me, artmaking has never been separate from life. It’s a way of paying attention to light, colour, shape, feeling and finding beauty even in uncertainty. Sharing that with others, whether through exhibitions or teaching, is a significant act of connection.
Being part of Recovered Futures this year reminds me that art has the power to hold both joy and struggle. It offers us a language for what’s often unspoken and a space to be seen and understood. And in that space, between paint, process, and people, there’s hope.
