So, now I’m an artist.

Was it really that easy?

Yes, and no.

Winding back a bit.

In January 2014 I made a decision to end my career as a photographer, in a business sense, anyway.

A year later, in January 2015 I fell apart. It was like a physical falling, into a deep pit within myself, an extreme form of the spiraling in I have experienced most winters. A shutting down of the senses, an inability to cope with the stimuli that the world bombarded me with. I clung to the walls of the house- sometimes literally, for stability and comfort and was unable to leave for a few weeks. Anyone who has experienced crippling anxiety and an exhausting depression knows what a feat of will it takes just to get up in the morning. It was hell. And yet I have everything in life I have ever wanted- I am seriously blessed. So why did it happen?

Arguably it’s a moot question; suffice to say I was experiencing a perfect storm of hormonal change; the loss of social interaction running a successful photography business gave me; a pummelling two-year programme of house renovations; an emptying nest as the children turned the corner into adulthood; a transition from daughter to carer for my mum as she was diagnosed with dementia just before my dad’s death… and a mid-life lack of direction and purpose, all resulting in this devastating existential crisis.

All these were understandable causes for depression, but god knows I’ve coped with more in my life. I truly believe that there often isn’t a cause, as such, for depression. That often, as in my case, if we don’t jealously guard our well-being, we are all susceptible. The huge irony is I have long been interested, in a layperson’s way, in the subject of Positive Psychology. (I’ve even got a certificate in that, too!) Pos. Psych. is often called the science of happiness. Some might call it ‘self-help’. I prefer to see it as practicing having a conscious relationship with one’s own Self. The truth is, I am a super-sensitive soul and if I don’t proactively participate in a regular practice of vigorous self-care, I’m done for.  I’m not talking about facials and botox (I’m pretty low maintenance that way!) but clean eating, yoga, fresh air, a social life that suited this outgoing but essentially introverted soul, and art. Lots of art. At this time, I wasn’t doing any at all. I’d taken my eye off the ball, and forgotten that one of the main tenets of wellbeing is to feel meaning and purpose in life. I needed time to work out, now that I had choices, what was nourishing me and what didn’t.

And so, I started painting again.