My journey towards art

How My Art Journey Began

From survival to self-expression — piece by piece.

It all started when I was pregnant with our second baby. Both our kids were planned. But then ice took hold of his heart and turned him violent.

I left him once — the first time. After a drug-fuelled, violent episode, I packed up my 18-month-old and went to Uniting Care. They took us in that morning. He said he’d change, and I wanted to believe it. We did the whole relationship counselling thing. I was naïve — we had kids together, and he hadn’t done it before... you know, all the usual excuses we tell ourselves to justify staying.

But Uniting Care didn’t just let me walk out without support. I had to join programs — they gave me options to help rebuild. One of them was an art class, designed to teach emotional regulation. A kind of therapy without the pressure of talking — something you could ease into, especially if you weren’t ready to share your story yet. And they said I could bring my toddler along. Other mums were there with their babies too, and the kids would play together while we created.

That class changed something in me.

When I was little, I did so many crafts — latch hook pillows, cross-stitching, crochet, knitting, sewing. My mum was creative too. We made porcelain dolls together, even sculpted busts. But somewhere along the way, through a string of bad partner choices — bad life choices, really — I’d lost that part of me.

The first thing I made in that class was a 3D plaster cast of a simple face. I painted it in neon purple, orange, and green — triangles, shapes, wild lines. It made me smile. For the first time in a long time, something inside me softened.

I hadn’t touched a canvas since high school art class. But suddenly I felt inspired. I was free. I’d taken the girls and gone to live with my dad. The youngest was nearly one. And yes — he did it again. But this time, we were out for good. I was looking after myself and my daughters.

I started going for daily walks with a friend. I was eating better. I was reconnecting with who I was before everything — or maybe discovering someone new.

One day, while wandering through The Reject Shop, I saw paints and a canvas on special. I bought a huge one — along with neon pink, yellow, black, and white. I had this vision of a barn owl I wanted to paint. I didn’t even get to finish it before my dad hung it up. Funny man — he was so proud.

I still have that unfinished canvas. I keep it as a reminder of that moment. That shift.

And I’ve found that when life gets good, art just... comes.

Finishing those art projects, though?

Well — that’s still a whole other story.