Many moons ago I did an O level in art, then put down my paintbrush until April 2024. Moving to Devon and finding my forever home, I rediscovered an old passion I didn't know I'd missed: painting and drawing. Not hard when you live in one of the most beautiful parts of the world, Torbay. The ever-changing beauty of this landscape through the seasons has been my motivation to explore and interpret the light of the sun on the sea and the rugged coastline. Art has opened my eyes to the beauty and colour around me, and has helped me grow and develop in ways I never thought possible.

Getting messy with paint, charcoal and pan pastels, my preferred mediums, has given me joy, and I have found the peace, space and grounding I need to manage my menopause and my sanity. For over 25 years I was a teacher of languages and a leader within education (and I still tutor), and I am now a menopause and midlife coach through my business, Embrace the Menopause, as well as a nervous system regulation practitioner.

I am passionate about making a positive difference in women's lives. My mission? To bring art and menopause together. I want women to embrace life to the fullest through their own creativity, as I do. Through developing my photography and artistic skills, I have been exploring the pain, anguish and confusion of midlife, as well as how we should celebrate the beauty, confidence and wisdom of the older woman. This has culminated in the inspiration for my new series, Inhale to Exhale, and my first solo exhibition this summer.

My mantra moving forward: Don't dream it. Be it.

There is something different about working in charcoal. No colour to hide behind, no light to soften the edges. Just tone, texture and the marks I choose to leave, or not leave, on the page.

I sat with this view for a long time before I picked up the charcoal. The rocks, the folds of the cliff, the way the light falls flat and grey on an overcast day. It felt honest somehow, stripped back to its bones.

This was part of my journey back into art, learning to really look again, to notice texture and shadow rather than reach straight for colour. It taught me patience. It taught me to sit still with a landscape rather than rush to capture it.

I love how a charcoal sketch can hold as much feeling as a painting full of colour. Sometimes less really is more.

Charcoal

28x28cm

Framed under glass