Finding Joy in the Broken: A Conversation with Artist Annabel Merrett

Annabel Merrett came to art making later in her life. All of her work centers around health—and I'm trying to resist limiting it to "mental health" because while that is central to her practice, it is health in its entirety that matters here.

Annabel has been embraced by the science community, but her practice extends well beyond the confines of mental health, science, and the medical world. She's a woman who feels it's urgent that we readdress the way we think and talk about all sorts of things—particularly our relationships with our bodies and minds.

Joining the Art World Later in Life

When asked why it took her so long to accept that she is an artist, Annabel smiles. Despite surrounding herself with art her entire life, she got sidetracked by a career in project management. "I think I just got too good at it," she admits.

It wasn't until her 40s that she took her first painting class. When the teacher asked if she had painted before, Annabel replied, "No. But I have spent my life looking at art." The teacher insightfully responded, "Oh, you've been looking at art with an artist's eye."

Now in her 50s, Annabel has embraced art full-time. Serious illness became the catalyst for this transformation, pushing her toward a lifestyle change that prioritized her creative practice. "The thing about making lifestyle changes is it's pretty inconvenient for people around you," she notes with characteristic frankness.

The Value of Technical Foundations

Unlike many contemporary art school graduates who focus primarily on theory, Annabel committed herself to mastering technique. She recalls the first time she touched clay—a moment of pure joy that affirmed her path.

Behind her during our conversation hang several sculpted heads, evidence of her technical facility. "You can definitely be taught to draw," she insists. "If you can draw, you can hang. It's a peg that you hang any other talent on. If you can draw, you can express your ideas. It's like a basic alphabet to write."

"It's so hard," she acknowledges, "but it is literally something, a learned skill. You just keep doing it. Anyone can do it."

Bridging Science and Art

What distinguishes Annabel's work is how she bridges the worlds of science and art. Her sculptures of human heads incorporate actual casts of heads—often her own. The result is deeply personal yet scientifically grounded.

"I think that's come from lots of really unpleasant myths about mental health, or about reacting to anything—any anger—and the kind of British 'pull your socks up,'" she explains. "This is data saying your brain is different. This is scientific facts saying mental ill health, mental health can be good, can be bad. You're not alone."

Recent scientific discoveries about the mind-body connection excite her. "They always thought that your limbic system, which is all the toxins and the hormones and anything that's not blood, stopped here and didn't go to the brain. But more recently, they discovered that whole system actually runs all the way over the top of your brain."

She's equally fascinated by research showing that serotonin is primarily produced in the gut, not the brain. "The mind-body connection is so important," she emphasizes.

Text as Expression

Text features prominently in Annabel's art—handwritten, grammatically imperfect phrases that communicate acceptance. "That's what I want people to feel when they look at it. It's just okay to feel like this," she says.

Initially, she tried typing these messages, but spell-check and formatting stripped away their authenticity. When someone suggested handwriting instead, she found her voice. "That just feels much more direct and accessible and personal."

The phrases aren't imperatives or instructions; they're expressions of permission. As she puts it: "I'd like my practice to say you're not alone when you're broken."

Creating Safe Spaces

Annabel acknowledges that her work can evoke strong emotional responses. "I'm really flattered by the reaction, particularly the heads have had. But it is quite painful for some people. And I like the idea that if someone does feel painful about something, then an art gallery is a pretty safe space to sit it out."

She describes galleries as decompression zones—peaceful environments amidst urban chaos. "I'd love the idea of my work being in that space, a space of peace."

Finding Recognition in Unexpected Places

Interestingly, the medical profession has embraced Annabel's work. During UK Mental Health Week, she'll exhibit at Glenside Museum in Bristol—a former asylum site now dedicated to destigmatizing mental health. Her pieces will also be viewed by 2,000 psychiatrists at the Royal College of Psychiatrists conference.

This crossover between medical and artistic worlds delights her but also highlights how separate these domains typically remain. By literally melding scientific data with artistic expression, she creates a bridge between disciplines.

Looking Ahead

As our conversation draws to a close, I express hope that her work gains wider recognition beyond medical circles. The art world, I suggest, might simply need more time to catch up.

"We need more bridges," Annabel agrees. "Generally, we need more bridges. I think we need more bridges between parents and children as well."

To see Annabel Merritt's work, visit her website at AnnabelMerrett.com or follow her on Instagram @annabel.merrett. Her exhibition at Glenside Museum in Bristol opens 17th May, coinciding with Mental Health Week.