When Life Strips You Bare

Dear friends,

I’m so glad you’re here with me on Substack - thank you for subscribing.

Since I’ll be posting more frequently (and more personally), I thought it might help to give some context - specifically, the turning points that led me to where I am today.

Some of you know my story but many of you don’t - thank you for reading. I hope this inspires you and that our journeys will overlap in some way in the future:

Back in 2018, I found myself in a perfect storm. I was recovering from a hysterectomy after a cancer scare, newly separated from my husband after discovering he’d been living a secret life (with men) for eight years, and navigating the silence that followed as both my sons stepped out into their own lives.

Everything that had defined me - wife, mother, caretaker- seemed to vanish overnight. I was lonely, scared and adrift. To make matters more destabilizing, I sold my home, stepped away from part of my business, all at the same time, knowing I needed space to get through it all.

Looking back, I can now see that sometimes life has to strip us bare so that something new has the chance to grow. That was when three questions arrived, almost all at once - urgent, insistent, and impossible to ignore:

• Who am I at my core - stripped of titles, achievements, and expectations?

• What might my creativity look like if no one asked anything of me?

• Where does my joy truly live?

Until then, I had never truly asked myself any of those things - certainly not all at once. I didn’t even know where to look for the answers - I just knew that I desperately needed them.

As the wonderful Rumi quote suggests…..“As you start to walk on the way, the way appears.”

And so it did…….Art had always been my loyal companion, but I realised I had no idea who I was creatively outside the demands of a client brief. I needed to find my way back to me - to feeling alive, connected, and purposeful. So I did the only thing that made sense: I picked up a paintbrush and enrolled in an abstract painting workshop.

I gave myself permission to play, experiment, tune in, and create - purely for the joy of it. No goals, no expectations, no clients to please. 

And with that…..my life changed forever and before I knew it, much to my delight, that one decision answered all 3 questions.

Painting gave me the courage to be curious, to let colour and shape carry me somewhere words couldn’t. Over time, I realised I wasn’t just making paintings - I was slowly rebuilding myself. Each canvas held a part of my story: the layers, the interruptions, the scars, the little flashes of light and glimpses of my inner landscape.

Painting reminded me that life, too, could be rebuilt - with beauty, bravery, and a sense of play. It taught me that joy is not frivolous - it’s essential. It showed me I could mess up and still keep going; that creativity, abundance, and self-trust were muscles I could strengthen. It was a space where all of me was welcome - something I had craved my whole life- to be seen heard and validated.

Another unexpected gift that emerged from all of this was a profound connection to my spirituality. For the first time, I understood that if I surrendered control and trusted the process, Spirit could step in - guiding, speaking through, and using me in ways far beyond my own imagination. Painting became my prayer, my meditation, and a portal to a power far greater than my limited creativity.

So when people ask why I paint, the answer is simple: painting brought me back to myself and it connects me to God, the universe, Spirit. It continues to remind me - every single day - of who I am, and what matters most.

Six years later, I’m grateful to now have a thriving creative career and the privilege of helping other artists and seekers find their way ‘home’ too.

With love,

Liz