I AM sat in bed writing this with the hangover of all hangovers and my head buzzing from last night. The opening of my exhibition ‘Everything is Now’ was more exceptional than I ever imagined. At the start of the night, my imposter syndrome kicked in and I thought it might just be me, Greg and my parents drinking wine in silence together. I was so overwhelmed by the amount of people who showed up to see the work, share their stories and open up to some of the tough questions good art can encourage.

This exhibition was a long time coming; three years ago, Greg and I first spoke to the curator Kate about curating a show about how personal storytelling can shape communities. This was before Greg’s diagnosis and little did we know how pertinent this idea would turn out to be in our lives. This concept is now not just an idea for some art; it is a way of life. Sharing my story and those of others is not only a life line for me in a time of personal earthquakes but also I’ve seen again and again how vulnerability brings people together.

Last night, I took a moment to breath and look around at all the people this artwork had bought together. My family, my group of best friends, old work colleagues I haven’t seen for ten years, people I have been speaking to through social media but never met in person, strangers, readers of this column. There were so many disparate groups but all bought together by their connection in being human; that we will all suffer loss in our lifetime and there is absolutely no time like now to think about how we want to show up in the world.

I’ve learnt so much from this process – that the heart is capable of expanding again and again, even when it’s breaking. That I don’t need to feel like an imposter in the art world. That I can juggle more plates than I thought. That I am surrounded by the very best people. That I want to curate more shows. That art is an incredible vehicle for storytelling in the community.

But possibly the biggest take away from the night was that I most certainly cannot drink seven glasses of wine and be a functioning human the following day. Ouch.

* Stacey Heale has left her career as a fashion lecturer to focus on her two lively little girls and husband, Delays frontman Greg Gilbert, who was diagnosed with stage 4 bowel cancer in November 2016. She launched the viral campaign Give4Greg to raise funds for lifesaving treatment: gofundme.com/give4greg. You can read more at her blog, www.beneaththeweather.com