After roughly 18months of life as a (very well looked after) nomad, I finally got a place of my own in May 2012.
The year and a half leading up to this point had me living in five locations (one twice) as a house guest in various locations to various degrees of success.
Each time I moved I would pack my little Peugeot (RIP) to the brim with most of my worldly belongings and trundle along the motorways to the next stop. Each weekend, no matter the location, I would try to get back to East Anglia to see the boyf and every few months I would travel to a far flung exotic location for work (ok, mainly to Birmingham).
In short, my life was dominated by suitcases and unfortunately none of them looked as stylish as the above.
The glorious and amazing day that we finally got our little flat and I was able to put away those ever-present cases was just perfect; no more weekend bags, no more Friday/Sunday night traffic, no more weekend rail replacements, no more cold Sunday evenings on the platform and no more wondering where and when I would next be moving.
Like I said, amazing! In the grand scheme of things, I know these are trivial issues, but it was huge for me.
And the whole point of telling you this is that finally settled, I had time again to think about what I wanted to do with all this new found freedom and the answer was art.
Painting, sketching, cutting and sticking, glittering, colouring and creating: starting again.