Janene Elise Pike, 36, is a fine artist and wheelchair user living with cerebral palsy (CP). Her creative journey began when she chose art as a GCSE subject—initially viewing it as a hobby while planning a more conventional route in computing. But art quickly took centre stage.
“I thought I’d go into computers, but I didn’t enjoy it at all. Art just made sense to me—it gave me the freedom to express myself.”
Though CP presents her with physical challenges, Janene sees her creative practice as a space where she can adapt and thrive.
“I have slight dexterity issues because of my CP, but I’ve found ways to work around them. I don’t see them as limitations—they just shape how I create.”
A Practice Rooted in Experimentation
Janene refuses to be boxed into a single style or medium. Her work spans painting, pastels, printmaking, photography, and many other techniques—including mixed media, collage, and digital art—which she often blends into layered digital compositions.
“I don’t like confining myself to one thing. I love exploring colour, texture, and technique—and then bringing it all together digitally.”
During her Fine Art degree at Anglia Ruskin University, Janene’s tutors challenged her to make her diverse work feel cohesive. That moment became a turning point. She began digitally layering photographs of her pieces, creating textured, dynamic landscapes.
“That’s when everything started coming together. I realized I could work across lots of techniques and still make it feel like one body of work.”
Creativity as a Tool for Wellbeing
Beyond her personal practice, Janene is passionate about how creativity can support mental health. She runs creative groups that welcome people from all backgrounds, including those who might not see themselves as artistic.
“Everyone can be creative. You don’t have to be good at drawing. There’s joy in experimenting, in making a mess, in letting go.”
She encourages people to move past perfectionism and rediscover art as a space for play, reflection, and self-expression.
“The moment I tell myself a piece has to be perfect, it all falls apart. When I treat it as an experiment, that’s when the best work happens.”
Her artwork often features landscapes and imagined spaces intentionally left without people, creating room for viewers to insert themselves and explore the work in their own way. This sense of openness and invitation mirrors her belief in art as a tool for personal connection and wellbeing.
Pugsley: A Vital Companion
Janene is accompanied by her assistance dog, Pugsley, from the charity Canine Partners. More than just a companion, Pugsley is trained to assist with a wide range of tasks—from helping Janene take off her coat and picking up dropped items to retrieving her phone and carrying a basket to help move things around the house. He’s a beloved and essential presence in her daily life and joins her at the creative groups she runs, giving her support and joy to all who meet him.
Fighting for Access to Creativity
Despite her passion and talent, Janene still faces significant barriers—particularly around accessibility. From local workshops held upstairs with no lift to inaccessible transport in London, she’s often excluded from opportunities many take for granted.
“It’s exhausting. You plan a trip around accessible stations, and then the lifts are broken. People don’t realise how isolating that can be.”
She stresses that creativity should be inclusive, and that access needs to be built in—not treated as an afterthought. “Art should be for everyone. It shouldn’t be something you have to fight to take part in.”
A Message to Aspiring Creators
To those who feel hesitant about trying something creative—especially within the CP community—Janene’s advice is clear: start small, stay curious, and give yourself permission to play.
“Try drawing with your non-dominant hand. Use your favourite colours. Make a mess. That’s where the magic begins.”
Whether she’s layering vibrant textures in her digital landscapes or inspiring others through her workshops, Janene Elise Pike reminds us that creativity isn’t about perfection—it’s about possibility.