Richard Boulet: Piece by Piece 

Jul 17th, 2025

A Life in Motion

Richard Boulet’s story begins in Peace River, Alberta. Now 63 years old, he recalls a life filled with movement—from city to city, identity to identity, struggle to stability. The son of a forest ranger and a nurse, he showed artistic talent from a young age and dreamed of becoming an architect. But coming of age as a gay teen within a Catholic upbringing created deep conflict that would shadow his teens and adult years.  Richard did manage to complete two undergraduate degrees as a young adult, one in architecture then one in fine arts but with a slow and steady mental health deterioration.

After his BFA Richard lived in multiple cities, including Montreal, Winnipeg, Vancouver, Calgary and Regina. Throughout this time, his mental health struggles snowballed. Unaware he had schizophrenia, he turned to drugs and alcohol to cope. The most serious psychotic breaks came in Winnipeg and Vancouver while Richard was in his early 30’s. He was 33 years old and living in Regina when he was formally diagnosed. With that said, Richard managed to keep the basics of art making in his life even if it was only a pen and a piece of paper.

The Guiding Light: A Mother’s Love

Richard credits one person with changing the course of his life: his mother. A nurse by profession with experience from her training in the Ponoka Mental Hospital in the mid 1950’s, she recognized what was happening and stepped in with strength and compassion. She never enabled him.  She never gave up either. After diagnosis Richard lived in a transitional mental health group home.  After that his mother encouraged him to return to Edmonton and connected him with services that led to stability including another group home for a while.

“My mother helped me get into transitional group home living. It was there that, for the first time, someone asked me if I felt safe.”

That single question marked a profound turning point.

Richard knows how rare his experience is. He received the level of support he needed when he needed it.  Many people navigating mental illness do so without a strong advocate. His mother’s medical knowledge and ability to maintain clear boundaries allowed him to get the help he needed. Her love was unconditional, but it was also firm—a balance that provided both safety and structure.

Reclaiming His Artistic Self

With the right support in place—including independent living, medication, and a routine that included making small watercolor paintings—Art helped Richard begin to truly heal at a deeper level. As the years went by there were day programs, volunteer work, paid work and an eventual return to university to complete his graduate studies in art.  He stopped using substances.  Art, which had been present since his childhood, once again became central to his life.  The process from diagnosis to earning a master’s in fine arts took about a dozen years of one step at a time.  Substantial recovery takes years of love and support, and hope received and given.

Even during his most difficult periods before diagnosis, he had continued to create. He remembers being at the old Calgary Drop-In Centre and asking for a pen and paper. He drew a bird, slowly and meticulously, one line at a time. That bird became a symbol of survival and hope, however desperate—a fragile but persistent thread back to himself.

“It gave me something to do. It also gave me self respect.”  So did earning a bag lunch by helping out at the Drop-In Centre.

Today, Richard is a textile artist whose work is known for its intimacy, advocacy, and emotional resonance. He pieces together scraps of meaning—literal and metaphorical—into quilts, embroideries, and visually busy textile constructions that speak to the layered experience of living with mental illness, queerness, and survival plus love and hope.  

A Blueprint for Stability and Growth

Richard doesn’t romanticize recovery. He knows it requires structure, honesty, and small, measurable steps.

“Big goals are achieved by breaking them down. If step one is too big, break it down into smaller steps.  If that does not work, break the goal down more. Eventually, you reach a level where you can achieve something.”  Remember to pat yourself on the back.  Smile inside and out.

He finds comfort in CMHA’s programs, including peer support, housing advocacy, and practical planning. Having a team of professionals and peers with lived experience, who listen and understand the system, allows him to focus on his goals. He sets daily tasks, engages in creative work, and gives back whenever he can.

He often reflects on how someone once gave him five dollars when he was at his lowest. He now pays that gesture forward, asking the receiver to do the same when they can.

Hope for the Future

As Richard approaches 65, he’s aware of changes that may affect his benefits and supports. He speaks candidly about aging with a mental illness and the anxieties that come with it. But he’s also determined.

He continues to work with CMHA staff and peers to plan ahead. He continues to make art. He continues to help others.

And he continues to draw—sometimes literally, always metaphorically.

A Message to Others

Richard wanted to share his story so others might find hope, self respect.  Whether you’re struggling with mental illness yourself or trying to help someone you love, he believes that even the smallest acts matter.

“That bird I drew. It helped me survive. That’s all someone has to do. Help someone survive.”

His message is clear: recovery is possible. It might not be linear. It might not be perfect. But with compassion, support, and structure, it is achievable.

And like a drawing in progress, it is always becoming something more.

To learn more about how CMHA Edmonton supports individuals like Richard, or to get help for yourself or someone you care about, please visit edmonton.cmha.ca.