Four years ago I couldn't walk more than 100 metres without collapsing.

After the birth of my first child my spine collapsed beneath me from sports injuries I had ignored, and prayed would go away in my 20s and 30s.

For months I couldn't pick up my son on my own.

The inability to move far meant solitude. Being alone with my thoughts made me realise I was in a career I didn’t choose, and did not like.

So I left it with a loose plan for what came next.

Drawing became something to do while I learned how to move again.

But slowly it became something much bigger.

It taught me to slow down, to notice, properly. I gave my body my full attention to heal it.

For years I'd judged everything, including my body, by whether it was productive, successful or perfect.

And drawing taught me to stop pushing, and start accepting.

Then I was able to change, grow and heal.

Now I spend my time drawing the things many of us overlook, and at worst, avoid.

Hidden bodies and overlooked objects.

Because beautiful things are not perfect; they are what we love for their imperfection.

My Mantra is "what you're avoiding is often the answer." Every piece I create begins there.

Bx