A decade of connection and creativity

Creative at Heart marks ten years of enriching lives through art and music therapy across Marlborough.

Words: Rachel Enright | Photos: Gabriel Bertogg

Ten years ago, a local woman with a passion for the arts planted a small but powerful seed.

That seed was Creative Kids Trust, founded in 2015 by Liz McKay, a Marlborough local with a background in theatre and music, who wanted to make the creative arts and its transformative power accessible to those who otherwise couldn’t reach it.

A decade on, that vision has evolved and flourished into what is now Creative at Heart, a charitable trust dedicated to enriching lives and supporting wellbeing through creativity. The name change, introduced softly last year, reflects a natural growth that embraces the wider Marlborough community. “We’ve grown beyond what ‘Creative Kids’ could capture,” explains Development Coordinator Aimée Preston. “We now work with people of all ages, from children in schools to adults at the Cancer Society and seniors at the Alzheimer’s Society. Creativity can support wellbeing at every stage of life.”

Since 2015, more than 3,000 individuals across Marlborough have participated in Creative at Heart’s programmes. Each interaction, whether through art, music, or shared connection, leaves a ripple effect that extends far beyond the therapy room, improving emotional health, communication, and confidence in classrooms, homes, and workplaces.

Creative at Heart provides subsidised and free access to artistic and music therapy, removing barriers so that anyone can experience the benefits of creative expression. Today, the Trust’s reach extends across the region through partnerships with schools, early childhood centres, REAP Marlborough, Alzheimer's Marlborough and Cancer Society.

The two therapists, artistic therapist Emma and music therapist Anna, have become quiet pillars of the Marlborough community. Between them, they’ve supported hundreds of people through sessions that are both evidence-based and deeply personal. “People often think it’s just about painting or playing instruments,” Aimée says, “but it’s far more than that. These are evidence-backed therapies that help with communication, emotional regulation, and connection. It’s a space where people can express themselves safely.”

The Trust’s growth has been steady and intentional. With three-year funding support from Manatū Taonga Ministry for Culture and Heritage’s Creative Arts Recovery and Employment (CARE) Fund, Creative at Heart was able to double its programme delivery and reach when this funding commenced in 2022. That period of expansion allowed the team to introduce two new initiatives in 2025, Caring for the Carer and Supporting Tamariki Through Music,both developed in response to community feedback and identified need.

The latter has quickly become a cornerstone of the Trust’s outreach, with music therapist Anna leading workshops from Marlborough to Kaikōura. These sessions guide teachers, caregivers, and whānau through the science of how music supports emotional regulation and learning, creating a multiplier effect of wellbeing that touches hundreds more across the region.

While their work is grounded in joy and resilience, Aimée is candid about the challenges the Trust faces. “The hardest part is funding,” she says. “It’s a difficult landscape out there. We survived COVID, we adapted by going online, and now we’re navigating a tough funding environment where many creative spaces have had to close. We’ve made it this far thanks to the foundation Liz built, the passion of Emma and Anna, and the support of our community.”

Behind the scenes, around 40 volunteers play a vital role each year, from assisting with workshops to supporting events like the upcoming Young Artists Exhibition, hosted by the Marlborough Art Society from 29 November to 5 December.

Despite the challenges, the Trust continues to offer a space where people can connect, express, and find calm. Children who once struggled to find their voice now communicate through melody or brushstroke. Adults facing illness find moments of peace and purpose through creativity.

As Creative at Heart marks its tenth anniversary, it stands as a testament to what can grow when a community believes in the power of creativity to connect and support wellbeing. Their story is one of quiet, consistent compassion, built on local roots, nurtured by passion, and sustained by generosity.

Artistic therapy with Emma Toy

In a quiet room filled with brushes, colour, and conversation, Emma Toy helps people find their rhythm again. Sometimes that rhythm comes through the gentle sweep of a watercolour brush, the weight of clay between the hands, or the soft crackle of autumn leaves being crushed. Each session, she says, is less about art and more about awareness, a chance to breathe, to notice, to feel.

“I’ve always loved art for the process, not the product,” Emma says. “It connects me with my surroundings and with people. It’s fun, it’s grounding, and it helps us listen to ourselves again.”

Emma joined what is now Creative at Heart through her art-therapy training nine years ago. At the time, the organisation was still called Creative Kids Trust, and she was completing her postgraduate studies in therapeutic arts while raising her two daughters in Blenheim. A fellow music therapist suggested she run some pilot sessions. From that first group, Emma realised she had found her place.

“When I saw how students at Marlborough Girls’ College described feeling calm and able to be themselves, I knew I was on the right path,” she recalls. “Helping people create a sense of peace, that’s when I knew this work mattered.”

Emma’s practice blends evidence-based therapeutic methods with deep respect for rhythm, both human and natural. Her philosophy is simple: when we reconnect with rhythm, we reconnect with ourselves.

“We’re rhythmic beings,” she explains. “Our heart beats, we breathe, we move with day and night. When life gets busy or stressful, that rhythm is often the first thing to go. Art therapy helps people slow down, rebalance, and feel grounded again.”

Her sessions are never prescriptive. Instead, she offers guided experiences designed to help participants gently access self-awareness in a safe, non-judgmental space. At the Cancer Society, where she runs a weekly group for patients, caregivers, and whānau on a cancer journey, sessions begin with a few minutes of quiet reflection: feet flat on the floor, shoulders relaxed, a few deep breaths.

From there, Emma might introduce colour or texture, perhaps soft watercolours in shifting shades of blue, or the cool resistance of clay. Each material offers something different: clay grounds, colour invites emotion to move, and charcoal teaches balance.

“Charcoal is a wonderful exercise in knowing your own strength and boundaries,” Emma says. “It can get very dark and messy very quickly, so you have to hold back, but it also teaches you when to be bold. It’s not about being perfect; it’s about awareness. The way we work with the materials often mirrors how we move through life.”

One of Emma’s most loved group projects is a watercolour series called The Hauschka Day and Night Rhythm. Across nine weeks, participants paint the changing light of the day, from bright midday to deep midnight and back to dawn. Each week builds on the last, reinforcing rhythm and awareness.

“It’s especially powerful for people experiencing low mood or depression,” she explains. “It brings awareness to the beauty that surrounds us and mirrors the natural cycles in our own lives. There’s something very comforting in realising that we all move through phases – light, shadow, transition, renewal.”

She also uses clay exercises where a simple egg shape gradually transforms into a bird over several weeks, symbolising growth and freedom. “Participants don’t always know the end goal,” she smiles. “It unfolds naturally, just like change does.”

Emma works with diverse groups, from children in school programmes to adults at St Mark’s Residential Addiction Treatment Centre. She describes art therapy there as “decompression time”: an hour of calm in the middle of intense personal work. “Play is so important,” she says. “Some people haven’t felt safe to play, even in childhood. Art therapy gives them permission to explore, to make a mess, to laugh, and that’s when real shifts can happen.”

Creative at Heart also supports her to run caregiver-and-child workshops, often in partnership with community spaces like the Marlborough Art Society. These sessions invite families to slow down together and rediscover joy in simple creative moments. “Parents often drop their kids at programmes and miss out on the fun,” Emma says. “This is their chance to share the experience, to relax and play alongside their children. It’s a beautiful way to connect.”

Not every participant arrives eager to create. Fear, Emma says, can show up as self-doubt or hesitation. “People say, I’m not artistic, or mine’s not good enough. But art therapy isn’t about talent, it’s about expression. Everyone’s mark is valid.”

She recalls one participant who planned to throw away a drawing he couldn’t stand. “I said, ‘Put it in a drawer and look again next week.’ He did, for nine weeks, and eventually told me, ‘I don’t know why I didn’t like it before; it’s beautiful.’ Sometimes you just need distance to see yourself clearly.”

That gentle approach is part of why Creative at Heart’s art therapy programmes have become a trusted space across Marlborough, from schools to community organisations. “Emma brings calm, trust and self-expression into our students’ lives,” says Mayfield School Principal David Nott. “She and Anna are skilled professionals doing work that they clearly love, and our tamariki thrive because of it.”

When she isn’t leading therapy sessions, Emma can often be found working with watercolour and ink, capturing the flora and fauna of Marlborough. She experiments with pigments made from plants turning natural materials into colour. “It’s another way of staying connected,” she says. “Everything is alive and has something to teach us.”

She’s also a member of the Marlborough Community Potters, finding time when she can to get her hands in clay. And when she’s not creating art, Emma works part-time as a strategic planner for the environmental policy team at the Marlborough District Council, a role that, she says, complements her creative work.

“It might sound different, but it’s all connected, people and the environment. Both roles are about care, balance, and awareness.”

As Creative at Heart celebrates its tenth anniversary, Emma hopes the Trust will continue to grow, with sustainable funding and new therapists joining the fold. “The need is there,” she says. “My wish is that funders and benefactors continue to see the value of what Creative at Heart offers, so that we can keep reaching more people, for another ten years and beyond.”

Her advice to others considering the same path is simple but honest: “Do the training. Build your support networks. And remember, this work is a privilege. It’s serious, but it’s full of joy too.”

For Emma Toy, art therapy isn’t about painting pictures, it’s about helping people rediscover their rhythm, one brushstroke, one breath, one small act of creativity at a time.

Music therapy with Anna Moore

Anna’s work through Creative at Heart reveals how music can reconnect us to joy, identity, and one another – even when words are out of reach.

When Anna begins a session, the first thing she does is sing hello, one by one, greeting each person by name. Guitars, hand drums, shakers, and the occasional puppet fill the room. Soon, rhythm and laughter ripple through the group. “It’s about connection,” Anna says. “Music reaches parts of the brain and heart that words can struggle to.”

Anna has been a registered music therapist for more than twenty years, though her relationship with music began long before that. The daughter of a Waimea College music teacher, she grew up surrounded by sound. “Music was just part of life,” she recalls. “My dad taught for forty years, I still meet people who say, ‘Your dad was my teacher.’”

She trained classically on piano and violin, later learning guitar. “But it wasn’t until I studied music therapy that I really understood the power of music, not as performance, but as communication,” she says.

That understanding also came through one extraordinary experience from her early twenties. Anna’s grandmother suffered a massive stroke and was unable to recognise her, or speak. “She used to sing to us all the time,” Anna says. “So I started singing old songs she loved. And she sang every word, even though she was unable to speak”

Over the next days, her grandmother slowly returned to herself. “Soon, she was up making tea and asking what we were all doing there,” Anna says with a smile. “That was the moment. I’d read about music therapy, but then I saw it. I thought, this is what I want to do for the rest of my life.”

Anna explains that the brain stores music and language in different regions. “While a stroke or Alzheimer’s damages may damage speech centres, it doesn’t damage the part where music is processed,” she says. “Singing activates neural pathways that speech alone can’t.”

At the Alzheimer’s Society Marlborough, where she has worked for a decade, Anna leads weekly group sessions for clients living with dementia. The sessions are vibrant, full of familiar songs, accordion melodies, and percussion instruments that invite participation. “Even when speech is gone and there’s confusion or anxiety, you can still reach someone with song,” she says. “It’s like seeing a light come back on.”

She often watches people who seem withdrawn suddenly begin to hum or tap along, then sing entire verses from memory. “Those songs from our teens and twenties, the ones tied to identity, are stored in parts of the brain that remain intact,” she explains. “It’s a direct line to joy.”

Music therapy is often misunderstood, Anna admits. “It’s not just playing people CDs,” she laughs. “It’s the intentional use of music to meet someone where they are, emotionally, developmentally, mentally, or neurologically.”

For children with autism or social anxiety, that might mean helping them communicate without words. “Some of my clients are non-verbal,” she says. “Music gives them a language they can understand, one that feels safe and natural.”

In one preschool group, she watched a shy four-year-old who never spoke at school slowly begin to participate. “At first, she just watched. Then she smiled, then reached for a drum, then played alongside me. Over time, she began interacting with the other children. It’s not about forcing engagement, it’s about offering safety until curiosity leads the way.”

Research now shows that music is processed similarly in neurodiverse and neurotypical brains. “That’s powerful,” Anna says. “It means we can use rhythm and melody to build bridges of understanding.”

Improvisation is a cornerstone of Anna’s practice. She describes it as “trusting yourself in the moment, musically and emotionally.”

“Improvisation helps people let go of anxiety,” she explains. “When you’re making music spontaneously, you enter a flow state, your inner critic quiets, time disappears, and you feel safe in creative play. It’s the opposite of anxiety.”

For younger clients, she often pairs improvisation with predictable rhythm and gentle touch, tapping knees or clapping in time to help regulate the nervous system. “Predictability builds safety; spontaneity builds confidence,” she says. “Together they create balance.”

Through Creative at Heart, Anna now delivers music therapy sessions across Marlborough, from preschools and schools to community workshops. She and artistic therapist Emma Toy also run professional-development sessions for educators, showing how rhythm and song can support tamariki in everyday learning.

“We ask teachers: ‘What’s your relationship with music?’” Anna says. “You don’t have to be a great singer. Children just feel nurtured and connected when you sing with them.”

Recently, she ran a workshop for forty kindergarten teachers, filling the room with ukuleles and laughter. “They rediscovered their own creativity,” she says. “That’s the magic, once adults reconnect with music, they bring that spark back to the children they work with.”

As the longest-serving therapist with Creative at Heart, Anna has watched the Trust evolve over ten years, surviving funding challenges and expanding its reach. “Music and art therapy are still emerging professions in New Zealand,” she says. “Every person who experiences it becomes an advocate. The hardest part is helping people understand what it really is, until they see it.”

Her hope for the next decade is simple: sustainability, growth, and connection. “We’d love to bring more therapists into Marlborough,” she says. “The need is growing, in early childhood, mental health, and in dementia care but the funding isn’t keeping pace. The more of us there are, the more lives we can touch.”

Anna smiles, her voice softening. “Music therapy is really about helping people find their own relationship with music, what it means to them. Everyone has one. I’ve never met anyone who doesn’t like music.”

To learn more and donate to Creative at Heart, visit creativeatheart.org.nz