Faeries, Fables and Far Away Tales - 'Deep in grief, i slipped into escapism.'

May 01, 2025

Faeries, Fables and Far Away Tales - 'Deep in grief, i slipped into escapism.'

'Nature ignites a spark,

creative energy flows,

stories grow'

Faeries, Fables and Far Away Tales

Faeries Fables and Far away tales is a Collection of a reflection of a very smart coping mechanism I developed as a child, to draw and create my own worlds of wonder within a dark and dangerous reality.

Within my young childhood I was quite introverted was it due to nature vs. nurture? I am unsure due to the layering of my early experiences. My experiences within my home life were unpredictable around this time certain abuse had stopped but more continued within the forms of physical abuse, controlling behaviours and neglect. I wasn't able to talk to my mother without it being abruptly stopped; often this would lead to physical abuse. So, I knew very early on to be as quiet as I could, within my child mind if I had just made myself smaller, moved quieter I may have been not noticed; thus left alone. This didn't work but in my mind it developed to be safety behaviour, tip toe around the house and don't express the want for attention from my mother. This behaviour led me to being my own friend and imagination would run free and wild within my mind little stories were made up into little books with drawing.

I found that drawing made me feel safe and I had a friend within paper. I had noticed that if I was drawing I was left alone. In my room, the kitchen table and the lounge room I would draw. In the kitchen I noticed became an issue as I was in close proximity to my mother so I would prefer my room or the lounge room.

Drawing was also a form I know now of disassociation within those early years and I also used drawing as a shield of protection in other places in society that had the spaces for bullying or the never-ending questions of why I was different; at school. If I looked busy in class no one would talk to me or I could just pretend I wasn't listening.

The question in my mind in regard to nature vs. nurture is was this an in-built mechanism I had developed as a result of my environment and trauma? Or is it in my nature to draw and create in order to understand the world? I must say I have always felt that disconnect towards peers and have never felt like I belong. Was I taught that humans just aren't nice due to my experiences? If you are around me you soon realise, I overthink concepts small or big. However, adverse childhood events change the brain; that's a hard fact. The reality is environment changes a human and shapes them within the early years and its later in life we learn the healthy and unhealthy behaviours within us, and we learn the why. I'd like to think I am naturally just a creative person but there is a big part of me that believes that I picked up pencils in order to cope with the freighting and uncomfortable situations I've been in.

My art practise has formed and grown during the decades of practise as a child it was for that shield, a piece of delicate paper was protection and it was also a friend and disassociation.

Now it has grown to reflection of concepts and topics, as the paper and pen collide my brain churns over internal questions and it's within the practise of drawing that these questions are answered, it's a conduit to insight and reflection.

During this collection I hit a massive low. Rehab had told me that remission is possible and they were confident that I would reach remission and as I was hitting that two-year mark it became clear to me; remission wasn't for me. I slipped into a deep and dark, heavy and hard depression. It didn't matter what I did or how hard I tried and continued my practises of low impact yoga, meditation, acts of doing, pacing, working with my baseline; the fact was I wasn't going to reach remission.

The path to recovery seemed to crumble beneath my shaky feet. I had at this point accepted the diagnosis of FND yet the idea put forward to me that remission was possible was still a theme. I wasn't pushing for it I was doing it in a nice and slow manner which felt nice to honour my body. However, the realisation that I wasn’t one of the lucky ones hit hard like a brick. I now had to accept that this would be my reality forever, I noticed I was spending time disassociating more and had suicidal thoughts and when I had realised that; I decided to draw. I remembered that drawing as a child was a healthy form of disassociation. Instead of just staring into the void I could create and make friends with my mind and paper again, i sat in this space of slight avoidance while acknowledging this avoidance and acknowledging the realisation that remission wasn't going to happen.

It felt so heavy and my mental health was really low at this time, so I just went off into the land of paper connecting to the inner child within who would draw stories of whimsy and wonder. I believe you can see this inner child reflection via the art; the little faerie houses embody child delight. I also created a short story 'Mr Toad's world opens up' during this time as I sat with my inner child delight.

Due to this I noticed the connection forming again to reality, I was reconnecting again with my children and laughing again, being playful on the floor and laughing at jokes and I found joy again within my life with this new concept in my life remission isn't happening, and that's ok I have to work with what I have and create the life I want for my family. I began to accept FND as a lifelong condition and I would be ok.

Art has saved me within my hardest moments from childhood abuse, school bullying, an act of rebellion in an unhealthy relationship as a young adult and within the heaviest of mind spaces it has served a purpose, and I had within this time fallen quite deeply within the childhood practice.

I dedicate this collection to little me for being so smart and using art as a tool; even if she was unaware she developed a very healthy tool and I thank her for her dedication, persistence and resilience.

'Mossy terrains,

slippery damp stones,

don't throw it all away;

don't let go'