Nancy Campbell felt in need of a change when she saw an ad for an artist’s residency in remote Greenland. She headed off into the dark polar winter, and discovered a new, slower life

Nancy Campbell

Snow fell throughout my last night in Britain. It cast a spell over my Victorian terrace, lying softly along neat box hedges and tiled roofs. The January storm had brought my city to a standstill. Most people associated the winter weather with static lifelessness but, to me, it represented a magical interlude - and hopeful new beginnings. I had known when I raised my glass at the stroke of midnight a few days before that this year was going to be very diferent from the last.

After a decade working in a small bookshop, I was questioning the direction my life was taking. I loved my job but now, in my 30s, I wanted to write my own story. I knew something was missing and, increasingly, I wanted to better understand the challenges - environmental and social - that the world was facing.

I compared notes with a photographer friend. Claire told me how, caught up in the daily grind, she too couldn’t see a way to break the routine - until she applied for an artist’s residency. These are periods during which a creative person can live away from home with the intention of developing new work, funded by museums and galleries, hospitals and universities. I found a website ofering residencies all over the world and imagined myself in Yellowstone National Park in the United States or on a Greek island. Would a temporary move ofer me wider perspective?