Becoming an artist wasn’t a light switch. It was a sunrise…slow, surprising and so worth the wait.
On 14th January 2020, with no big drama or build up, just a quiet excitement, I opened a small sketchbook, wrote the date and started the first “lesson” in a book that promised “You Can Draw in 30 Days”

I didn’t learn to draw in 30 days. But this book lit a fire inside me I didn’t even know was there. And that fire is burning bright, five years on.

As I pause to reflect, three things stand out - not as lessons I sought, but as insights that quietly unfolded along the way...
The power of getting started
The joy (and sometimes necessity) of a personal reinvention
How art connects us - to others, to a cause and to ourselves
Let’s start at the beginning…
Starting fresh at fifty
How do we reinvent ourselves when the identity we’ve carried for years no longer fits?
My story isn’t one of revisiting a passion that I let go in my younger years. I gave up art aged 13, having accumulated virtually no skills whatsoever. I’d dabbled occasionally but hadn’t drawn anything for nearly 30 years when I picked up that pencil just before my 50th birthday.

Starting something later in life brings a certain kind of wisdom - one shaped by experience. I realised that talent isn't the key. What truly matters is quiet persistence. There was nothing pressured or precious about showing up for 30 minutes, every day, for 30 days. And that was enough to get me hooked.
Those early days felt like stepping into a secret garden - untamed, full of hidden corners to explore, and alive with possibility. I experimented with a freedom and lack of judgment that only comes when you’re completely new to something, unburdened by expectations or the pressure to get it right. I discovered different mediums, different styles, different subjects...

I realise now that the magic wasn’t in the skills I gained (my art was more 'pin it to the fridge' than gallery-ready at that stage), but in the simple act of starting.
"Just start.
Start slow if you have to.
Start small if you have to.
Start privately if you have to.
Just start."
James Clear
Becoming an Artist
I didn’t set out to become an artist. Months passed and I continued to show up every day, excited to see what I could create next. I didn’t realise there was a transformation taking place - not just in my artistic skills but in how I saw the world and my place in it.
The transition to calling myself an artist was almost imperceptible. But there was a moment when something quietly shifted. It was the first time I wanted to capture more than an image, I wanted to see a soul.
This portrait of Mo (Mum to our gorgeous pup, Rocco) was my first original dog portrait. I created it from a photo I took during one of our visits when all eleven mini ginger ninjas were running riot at six weeks old. Beautiful Mo, clearly exhausted, jumped onto a chair and settled herself, ready for sleep. Her tired, soulful eyes seemed to say it was time for them to find their forever homes…

"Maybe the journey isn’t so much about becoming anything.
Maybe it’s about un-becoming everything that really isn’t you, so you can be who you were meant to be in the first place."
Paulo Coelho
Facing your fears
Ironically, once I started calling myself an artist, art became just one part of what I did. Social media. Commissions. Competitions. Exhibitions. Each one a doorway I hesitated to open, but couldn’t resist stepping through.
I was clueless, and everything came with a tiny tingle of fear:
Social media? What if no one follows me? …It doesn’t matter. You’re really just cataloguing a little slice of your life.
Commissions? Am I charging too much? Too little? …I started low and nudged up my prices every time I had three months of bookings.
Website? Where do I even begin? …With a homepage.
Things slowly bumbled into place and they now hum nicely alongside my art practice. And yes...I have a monthly newsletter too - you can sign up here

And what about artistic fears?
I’ve continued to push (or at least nudge) my creative boundaries. Every year I try something new. Some of my favourite pieces began as explorations - moments of curiosity that paid off, or challenges from others that pushed me beyond what I thought was possible...
"I’d love a portrait of a baby orangutan for Christmas … with her thumb in her mouth" came the request. This sounded utterly terrifying (I'd suggested a bird) but sometimes, you just say yes and figure it out as you go.

And yes, I can create a realistic teeny tiny pastel artwork. This was my smallest piece ever and showed me that even a Lilliputian postcard can hold big possibilities...

What about competitions? They are utterly terrifying at first. Putting your work out there to be judged feels deeply personal.
But I don't let the fear of judgment hold me back; quite the opposite - I get my best artwork out there and use it as a way to inspire my development.

Taking part in art competitions isn't about winning or losing. It's about personal growth and the inspiration you pick up along the way.
"Being happy by someone else’s work, and then letting it inspire you to rise
to the occasion, is not competition.
It’s collaboration."
Rick Rubin
What scares me most is losing the joy in creating.
Art has become my sanctuary, my voice, my way of making sense of the world. I never want to lose the feeling that anything is possible as I pin the next blank canvas to my drawing board.
Yes, there are moments when it feels hard - when doubts creep in or perfectionism clings like a spider’s web, invisible until you’re totally tangled, struggling to move forward.
But I’ve come to realise that joy isn’t something to chase - it’s something to nurture. And you can do that by showing up, staying curious and being kind to yourself along the way.
It’s about creating a life that feels alive. And perhaps that’s the biggest personal transformation of all.
“I must change my life so that I can live it, not wait for it”
Susan Sontag
Unexpected Connections
Creating a life that feels alive needs connection. My third and final reflection is that art has brought connections I never would have imagined.
Connecting with yourself
When I picked up that pencil five years ago, it was for me. Five years on, the art I create still begins with me - it’s an expression of who I am.
Sometimes, it’s reliving moments - the sheer exhilaration of seeing a cheetah in the wild for the first time, a dream I carried for so long, or the hushed wonder of watching mountain gorillas in Uganda. But other times, it becomes something deeper - a way to process emotions I didn't have words for...

And art has changed the way I connect with my world.
It reminds me of when we learn to read. At first, letters are just shapes on a page. But then, they connect to create words, sentences, stories. From that moment, you can never go back. You no longer just see the letters - you see the words and the worlds they unlock.
Art has done this for me. I notice the the frost-laced spiderweb catching the early sun, the countless colours hiding in the bark of a tree, the rainbow of hues in an ordinary shadow - blues and purples I’d never noticed.
It’s as if the world whispered “look closer” and only now can I see the layers of beauty in the simplest things.
Connecting with a cause
Art allows me to honour the natural world. To capture the wonder of wildlife and share it with others.
I feel privileged to support conservation through initiatives including Sketch for Survival and the David Shepherd Wildlife Artist of the Year. These projects are a reminder that art can do more than capture beauty - it can make a real difference.
It's also been a wonderful way to connect with like-minded people, from fellow artists to collectors who share that same love and commitment to protecting the natural world. It’s a community built on shared values, creativity and hope for a better future.

One of my proudest achievements has been combining my passion for wildlife, dogs and art to celebrate the remarkable stories of conservation detection dogs.
These rescue dogs have found love, purpose and joy tracking endangered species and making vital contributions to conservation worldwide. Honouring their legacy through art shines a light on their critical role in protecting our planet.

Connecting with others
I never expected that strangers across the world might become friends.
The artists who understand the delights and frustrations of creating - their encouragement, advice and friendship has helped me grow into the artist I am today.
And the collectors who share their stories about why a piece resonates with them or trust me with deeply personal commissions.
I’ve been honoured to help people celebrate their cherished companions. It’s humbling to hold space for someone else’s joy, love or even their grief. These moments stay with me. I never take them for granted.

And then there the unexpected encounters...
A stranger - an elderly man - approached me at an exhibition with tears in his eyes. He told me how deeply Infinite Shadows had moved him.
That is the magic of art - the quiet power to touch someone’s heart in ways words can’t explain.

I've come to learn than connection lies at the heart of what I create. It’s in the bond I feel with each animal I draw, the shared stories with those who love my work and the collective hope we carry to protect the wildlife around us.
Art started as a whisper, a quiet call to pick up a pencil and try. Five years later, it’s become so much more - a lens through which I see the world, a way to connect with others and a reminder that it’s never too late to become who you were meant to be.
When I look back on these years, the real measure of progress isn’t in the big milestones like launching a website or exhibiting my work. It’s in the quieter, more meaningful moments of connection - with people, with a deeper cause and with a world infinitely less ordinary.
This milestone feels less like the end of a chapter and more like a pause to soak it all in, a chance to appreciate how far I’ve come and dream about where I might go next.
If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that creativity doesn’t ask for perfection, it simply asks for you to show up.
To take that first step.
To let curiosity and courage lead the way.
What a brilliant, uplifting and inspiring blog post! Thoroughly enjoyed reading it. and well done for all you are achieving. I think courage is a great word for your 2025! Emma x