The Process of Creation

by ERL

At first, it was just an experiment, an attempt to fill the long, exhausting days with something that could distract me from my symptoms, which also felt ‘productive’. I struggled with the idea that I was wasting time; years were passing and I felt like I had nothing to show for them.

But as I put my hands to work, something shifted. In the quiet solitude of creation, I found refuge—one where pain softened and the weight of illness momentarily lifted. Each brushstroke, each swirl of colour, each line and shape became a doorway to a world beyond my body—a space where illness did not define me.

Art became my escape, not by denying reality but by reshaping it, giving me control where illness had stolen it away. In those fleeting moments of creation, I was no longer just a person in pain; I was an artist. It didn’t take my pain away, but gave me a way to exist beyond it—to create something outside of my suffering, something tangible, something beautiful.