Gathering her paints together she looked forward to losing herself for a few hours in the pleasure of painting. It removed you from yourself. She could forget all about grief and sorrow while she was intent on reproducing a certain visual effect on paper. Remembering was all very well – and there had been years when it was all she wanted to do – but these days it was a relief to forget. Forget sorrow, forget the past, forget what was lost … It took something engrossing to enable her to do that, and painting was the one thing she could rely on. (Setterfield, 2013, p. 228).
Dora’s thoughts
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Rhubarb Pyjamas 