One of the gifts of midlife is rediscovering parts of ourselves that may have been buried during the busy years of raising families, working, and holding it all together. For my friend, mixed media artist Cher Salvatore, that rediscovery came through art. What started as small creative projects soon became her lifeline — a way to process life’s highs and lows, and to keep moving forward even in seasons of loss.
Her story is a powerful reminder of how creativity can restore focus, calm, and joy. Whether it’s journaling, exploring creative adventures at home, or trying your hand at mixed media, these practices invite us to slow down, reconnect, and heal.
Today, I’m honored to share Cher’s guest post in her own words.
Art Really Does Save
The hectic years of raising four children began to give way to some welcome leisure time. It was during this period that my sister introduced me to what would become a lifeline and a passion: mixed media art. I began slowly in my spare time. Supplies seemingly found their way into my shopping cart at an alarming speed! Soon I was looking forward to snippets of my day when I could sit at the table and work on stamped images, handmade cards snd other small projects. Before I knew it, this was becoming a regular part of my daily routine, something I looked forward to immensely.
I began to notice that I had my own style developing, my own twist on my little artsy treasures. I was also happier. I felt more focused, and I liked looking forward to these creative moments that were waiting for me. I began to make more time for this newfound interest and my excitement only grew. The contentment that would come over me when I was engaged was so satisfying! I would feel calm and open, relaxed and flowing. I knew that this was changing me, helping me in ways that I didn’t know I needed.
Life went on, as it does for all of us. There was a lot of good, some bad, and some ugly. Through all of it, mixed media had become my steadfast companion. This became all too real on September 11, 2001, for all of us. In our home, we were a wreck. Our oldest daughter, a recent college graduate, had accepted a job and was in training at the World Trade Center. I’ll just hop to our happy ending here and tell you that we were one of the lucky ones, and she did manage to escape and survive. But the mental trail of destruction that was left behind, both for her and for myself and my husband, was real and inescapable.
Aside from friends, family and faith, I can tell you that it was art making that got me through the horrible times that followed. Simply, I cannot imagine how I would have coped without it. The calm that it offered me, the focus it gave me and the escape it provided were invaluable. This daily practice had opened up paths to express feelings in a new, private way that would be called upon again and again through the years of a life well lived.
Fast forward to this past year. One of my sisters, the one to whom I am the closest, unexpectedly passed away. It took my breath away, my ability to get through the day. As we age, we come to expect certain losses…children leaving home, a job loss or setback, the loss of aging parents. I never had contemplated the loss of a sibling. We were together through thick and thin, through everything. My sister was woven into the fabric of my everyday life so very much, and I didn’t know how I would navigate without her.
My art again became a personal solace to me, calming me down, allowing me to focus, urging me to put that love of my sister into my art. I had heard the adage “Art saves” many times, but this became those words in action. It has only been a few months, and I still miss her terribly. But I treasure the time I can spend art making, and I think of her, talk to her, and feel close to her during those times. I am thankful that I have the space, materials and skills that allow this to be therapeutic for me, and I can’t imagine how much more difficult this season would be without it. I am grateful.
If you would like to see some of my work, I have been published several times in Somerset Studio Magazine and Art Journaling Magazine. Both of these are available at your local Barnes and Noble or online through Stampington Studio.
Cher’s story is such a reminder that creativity isn’t just about making something pretty — it’s about giving ourselves a lifeline. For her, mixed media art became a steady companion through joy, grief, and everything in between.
If her words speak to you, maybe this is the nudge to carve out a little creative space of your own. It doesn’t have to be elaborate — even ten minutes of journaling, doodling, or playing with color can shift your mood. If you need ideas, I shared some of my own in Everyday Creative Habits, and tools like the Gratitude Journal can help you capture those moments.
And if you’d like to see more of what inspires Cher, check out Somerset Studio and Art Journaling Magazine from Stampington & Company — they’re full of projects and stories that prove, once again, that art really does save, and you can also find her at Cher Salvatore Art on Instagram and Facebook, where she shares more of her mixed media creations.
A quiet note before you go
Stories like this matter because they remind us that creativity can be more than expression — it can be a way of surviving, processing, and reconnecting with ourselves.
There’s no single right way to heal.
Sometimes the most meaningful progress happens quietly, through making, noticing, and showing up again.
This story is part of the Mindset & Reinvention pillar at Handcrafted Adventure, where real experiences and honest reflection are shared.
If you’d like to receive occasional reflections like this — along with thoughtful notes on creativity, change, and everyday meaning — you’re welcome to join the Handcrafted Newsletter.
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A quick note on approach
Guest stories shared in the Mindset & Reinvention pillar reflect individual experiences and perspectives. They are offered for reflection and inspiration — not as advice or instruction.