GalGael was not where Anne had expected to spend her 50th birthday. People had talked to her about the place for years, telling her that she would like it. Then the day centre that she'd been attending for nearly two decades closed down in 2014 and a friend suggested she tried the Journey On course.

Anne is a whip-smart, funny and enviably articulate woman who lives with a tough combination of the legacy of severe trauma, physical and mental ill health, which at times includes crippling anxiety. As she puts it, with a smile of understatement: "I've been through the system."

Although coming from islander stock, she was born in Govan, where her father worked in the shipyards. "Which was quite strange because it was the week before my 50th birthday [that I started here], and on my birthday I was just down the road from where I was born."

Her eyes fill up with unexpected emotion at the memory: "But I had the most bloody brilliant day and in many ways I think it was because I was back here, doing something I loved."

"It's frustrating when you have all these ideas and can't bring them to fruition," she says. But soon she was refreshing old skills making the basic joints, then moving on to making a box and starting to do different things. "It fires your inspiration again, and you're sitting there thinking 'I'm actually in place where I can carry this stuff out but I'm also in a place where other people have got ideas and we learn off each other'."

In terms of her on going anxiety, Anne explains: "I'm one of these people that sometimes I can walk into a crowd and I'm absolutely and fine and other times I can't leave the house."

"I know there are times when I can't be in the workshop but you walk in here even you haven't been for months and ''Hi Anne!". And if you've disappeared, Norrie always says "welcome home"."

As someone with a lot of experience of different services, Anne appreciates that GalGael strikes a difficult balance. "People will come to a place and stay there because it's relevant for them. It's a social enterprise too, but if people were to come in here and find it was all about completing tasks, bums on seats, that doesn't always work very well because you're dealing with human beings. And the thing about GalGael is that it remembers its Dealing with human beings."

"I'm doing a little carving that's totally off the top of my head but from that we're talking about doing block prints...its just a scrap of wood, it's nice to have that freedom." (Anne later shows me an intricately detailed solar design, which looks like far more than a scrap of wood.)

Anne herself is hoping to leave Glasgow soon, perhaps returning to the Islands where she still has relatives: "There's still part of the old crofter wanting to burst out" she laughs.

On a more serious note, she adds: "The future of mental health services is looking pretty bleak in Glasgow. Places like GalGael are a shining light. I'm not sure how I'd have coped last winter if I wasn't coming here."

Libby Brooks