Helping turn hope into action - One Red Leaf at a Time
It seems that many have been inspired by the arrival of Autumn here in the UK! I am delighted to share a few more of the amazing pieces we have received as submissions for the One Red Leaf at a Time International Art Exhibition, along with some powerful and moving lived experience narratives, each one a testament to courage, hope, and strength. I hope you enjoy moments of reflection, beauty, and connection as you spend time with the artwork shared.
In response to questions about fundraising opportunities from our Substack readers, Instagram followers and some of the art groups planning submissions to the exhibition, The One Red Leaf at a Time art project has now set up a JustGiving page with The University of Edinburgh to help fundraise exclusively for ME research led by Professor Chris Ponting to build on the data from Decode ME.
Driven by Professor Ponting’s message of hope for 2025 shared with The Red Tree and ME Substack, we are hoping to ‘do our bit’ to help fundraise, one red leaf at a time, to contribute to effective treatment becoming a reality for people living with this horrible disease.
More exciting developments about fundraisers coming soon…
The Red Leaves I Carry Within Me
Arlene Jackson, Scotland - Collage: watercolour on paper, digital imagery and text; photography



Arlene writes: ‘Along the edge of my local park lies a path, around which the foliage creates a tunnel, illuminated in autumn by a Japanese Maple. Its beauty commands a stopping, a staying still, a taking of a photograph to be kept safe and savoured during darker days spent in relapse bunkers.
I am mostly confined to home, and often bed due to M.E, and this image was captured during my first visit to the park in fifteen years. In the past, I had half-ran along this path towards my nursing shifts at the hospital. When not working, I had pushed my daughter in her pram around this route for hours. On my return as a powerchair user, I steer cautiously around the star-shaped fallen leaves, attuned to their fragility. I follow sensory pathways and reflect on the seasons of my evolving self. Later, I created a collage: watercolour on paper, digital imagery and fragments of text, leaving shadows and spaces to represent my previous healthy self, before marking out a mantra of self-compassion - if you look closely, you will see that the words flagged by the reddest of leaves reference my acceptance and growth, fostered by the joy to be found in the smallest and nearest of places.’
One Red Leaf in the Darkness
Lisa Bryce, UK - Acrylic gel print on paper
Lisa writes: ‘I am the main carer for my 24-year-old daughter who has ME/CFS. Her condition is now becoming severe, and leaving the house has become a real challenge. Her life was so full of promise until ME/CFS forced her to leave university and return home. She now feels as though her life is on hold, with a very uncertain future. There is a lot of pain, grief, and darkness, but she manages to keep a spark of joy alive and we hope for the light of effective treatments at some time in the future.’
Through the Wound, We Flow
Yongxin Chen, Germany - Gouache, Mixed Media paper 21*21 cm
Yongxin writes: ‘This painting emerged from a moment of unwellness - both physical and creative. I was feeling unwell, my hands unsteady, my usual precision abandoned for something more raw and immediate. There was simply this image pressing against my mind, demanding to be released onto canvas. The red leaf, pierced by an arrow and bearing its scars, became a meditation on how we carry our wounds. The leaves marks that become part of the leaf’s story, part of its beauty. Around this wounded bloom, blue forms flow like bodies in various states of being - some lying in rest or recovery, others standing in moments of strength. These figures represent the fluid nature of chronic illness, how we move between vulnerability and resilience, between the need to rest and the desire to rise. “Through the Wound, We Flow” speaks to the paradox of chronic illness: we are both wounded and flowing, scarred and beautiful, resting and moving. The wound doesn’t stop the flow - it redirects it, creates new currents, new possibilities for being.’
Through the darkness
Yvette van Lier, The Netherlands - Photography and painting
Yvette writes: ‘Awareness for ME and hope for a better future for ME patients, treatments, recognition and an end to all not being taken seriously. We too have the right to a full and loving existence. With in memory the lost loved ones, including my dear husband, who died unnecessarily and will forever remain part of the families who miss them so terribly.’
Red leaf, rather past its best
Carole Bruce, UK - Photograph
Carole writes: ‘I have had severe ME for 33 years so I’m often more the shadow than the leaf. Small strands of hope and a generous and wise community of fellow MEers connect me to something greater than this battered leaf of life. May we all be restored to our fullness.’
Everyone has potential
Kolma, Belgium - Aquarelle on paper
Kolma writes: ‘The exhaustion of long covid and ME, but even in difficult times, we all have the potential to make a difference.’











All beautiful and poignant
Just beautiful and so meaningful. Love them 🍁