Today on YOMU we’re sharing a powerful story from a Cornwall based artist, Cerisia Ta’Torin, who talks openly about how she finds her way in this busy, modern world. Her work is beautiful, her story is raw and honest and we hope you’ll find comfort in her words and outlook and maybe find a new way to bring joy and healing to your life.

Over to Cerisia:

Art has been my daily lifeline as a neurodivergent artist living with ASD. It helps me navigate the sensory overload, emotional challenges, and high expectations of the world.

As I sit at my desk piecing this article together, it strikes me how lucky I am to have found my anchor. I have obsessed over art since childhood. For me, being creative wasn’t just a pastime—it was my form of communication. Needless to say, growing up in the ’80s and ’90s, this wasn’t always understood. Today, however, I know that my creativity is not just part of who I am, it’s the tool that helps me survive daily life.

Being a neurodivergent woman comes with many pressures: the responsibilities of adulthood, paying bills on time, raising a family—all of it can be overwhelming. Art has been my salvation. Like many people on the spectrum, I’ve had my share of fixations, moving from one obsession to the next in search of “the one” that fits. For me, it’s always been art. Even when my college art teacher dismissed me, saying I was “rubbish” and no university would ever take me, I couldn’t let go of it.

Art has saved me more times than I can count.

It’s my daily dose of healing. I don’t paint for anyone but myself, and if others like my work enough to buy it, that’s just a bonus. When I’m in my studio, I can shut out the world, the worries, the expectations, and the voices in my head that tell me I’m not enough. I allow myself to play, exploring textures, colours, and movement that meet my sensory needs and help me work through life’s challenges.

If I feel low or overwhelmed, painting lifts me up. Sometimes I don’t know what to paint, but it doesn’t matter—I start with a few colours and let the process guide me. Often, my inspiration comes from my daily walks, but it’s the act of creating that sets me free.

They come to you, not just to admire your work, but to talk about your use of colour, your technique, and what they see in your art. These conversations build a community, people who see and understand you.

As an artist with ASD, this has been life-changing. Communication has always been hard for me, and misunderstandings are common. But with art, there are no misunderstandings. I can say what I want in my own way, and people get it.

Colour is my greatest joy.

It’s how I think, feel, and process the world. Right now, writing this, I feel yellow. I see, hear, and think in colours, and they’re always in my head. This is where my art begins, and it’s why painting is so much more than a career—it’s my way of navigating life.

On the canvas, colours tell my story, share my hopes and dreams, and make sense of the chaos.

But you don’t need to have a learning disability or be neurodivergent to use art as a healing tool. Painting can be a powerful form of self-expression and meditation. It offers a space where you can explore, experiment, and play without expectations. Over time, it can help you process emotions and better understand your struggles, whatever they might be.

If you’re curious about trying it, here’s how to start:

Get a good sketchbook (140gsm or thicker paper is best). Any shape or size will do.

Pick a few colours that resonate with you in the moment and squeeze them onto the page.

Use an old plastic card to scrape the paint around, letting your hands guide the process.

Once it dries, layer more colours, shapes, or textures. Use your fingers, add scraps of paper, or draw over it with pencils, pastels, or wax crayons.

Let your mind wander as you move your hands across the page. When you’re finished, take a moment to reflect on what you’ve created. You might even want to add a word or phrase that captures how it makes you feel.

The beauty of this process is that there’s no right or wrong way to do it. Art is about freedom, and in that freedom lies healing.

For me, art is more than therapy, it’s my lifeline.

It’s how I understand the world, express my inner self, and connect with others. Whether you’re neurodivergent or not, I hope you’ll find the same joy and healing in art that I have.

You can find out more at cerisiatatorin.sumupstore.com/ and follow on IG at https://www.instagram.com/cerisiatatorin_/