Back in the mists of time, around 2016, my husband decreed that I should join the local village art group. I needed a hobby out of the house. I’d just gone back to work after having suffered life- changing burnout and he saw, when I couldn’t, that I needed something to take my focus out of the everyday. In short, I needed art for wellbeing.

I hadn’t drawn or painted since GCSE, and even then, it was never a massive focus, music being more my cup of tea. I joined the welcoming group in my village, consisting mainly of retirees, all at different ability levels and creative motivation. Vitally, there was coffee and homemade cake. There was gentle and not so gentle discussion. Occasionally there was a rich, velvety silence as we all managed to get into concentration and a state of flow. We all commented on the positive effect art for wellbeing had on our overall mental health. Sometimes it was wildly frustrating as our expectations didn’t match the product. Despite the occasional irritation, it fired up different parts of our brains. After two hours of painting and drawing I was simultaneously and energised and knackered.

I tried oils, watercolour, acrylic, but the art process that stuck for me was drawing. Drawing from real-life and photos became a bit of an obsession. The more I practiced the better I got. The embarrassment of ‘showing your work’ slid away and I was proud of what I produced. I drew all the existing thirty-one medieval churches of Norwich. Niche, yes. I’ve since moved onto birds and flowers. However, it turns out that it’s not about the product, it’s the process. The process of concentrating on something outside of yourself, colour, line, making mistakes and living with them. Art for wellbeing is real and I’m 100% here for it. It’s a meditation, a creation and an escape.

I’ve started bringing in some art for wellbeing techniques into my chill out events, so I can encourage other people to embrace the process, and stop living solely for the product.