Through Art, Coping With Depression and a Death Robinette Christian, 64, lost her companion of 37 years in May. She has found some solace in painting and making jewelry. Disorder has come to characterize Robinette Christian's life of late. Her apartment is a den of disarray where treasured belongings are hidden amid mounds of clutter. Her emotions are equally scattershot. Last May, Ms. Christian, 64, lost her partner of 37 years, Linda Brown. Even before Ms. Brown died, Ms. Christian had a tenuous grip on happiness. "I've been depressed for most of my life," she said. Even as a kid, I never really felt attuned to what was going on around me. Dejection took further root in Ms. Christian this year when Ms. Brown, who had severe rheumatoid arthritis and diabetes, began to deteriorate. Her mind started shutting down as rapidly as her body, said Ms. Christian, who was alarmed to see one day that Ms. Brown had cut off her beloved dreadlocks. When asked for a reason, Ms. Brown replied, with a vacant stare, "because I wanted to." "She didn't last a month after that," Ms. Christian said. One organ just shut down after another. One day I went there and she didn't know me. I just held her hand and talked to her. Watching the love of her life die in such a way left Ms. Christian bereft and listless, she said. She stays largely confined to her apartment, a quaint, colorful corner of the Upper East Side the couple carved out for themselves decades ago. "After she got really sick, I just let the house go to pot," Ms. Christian said. Unsorted items that belonged to Ms. Brown account for most of the mess, Ms. Christian said, but she has yet to decide what to do with them. Household plants that Ms. Brown once cared for, including a cactus and a spider plant she nurtured for 15 years, have begun to wilt despite Ms. Christian's best efforts to water them. "They probably miss her, so they're going where she is," she said. Ms. Christian said she is strengthened by the kindness and friendship of neighbors, and she can find momentary amusement by conversing with the birds she feeds outside her window. One hobby has long brought her peace: making art. "I never really felt connected until I started working with painting," she said. She had taken painting classes in high school, but her passion was not rekindled until the 1980s, when she purchased art supplies from a co-worker. "I got all this stuff and I lugged it home and I thought, "Let me pick up where I left off," " she said. Ms. Christian eventually began to exhibit her work. She also makes jewelry, which she has sold in Union Square, on the sidewalks of her neighborhood and, more recently, on the Internet. The career she followed for years, as an analyst in a stock research company, left her creativity untapped, she said. Her artistic pursuits added vibrancy to her life. But Ms. Christian has another talent, she said: self-sabotage. "Every time something major and positive would happen, I would turn it into a negative," she said, recalling how she had been asked to bring her portfolio to a gallery, but allowed her self-doubt to keep her from returning. The Fashion Institute of Technology accepted her into a graduate program in art restoration. She chose not to enroll. "I go by there all the time now, and I say to myself, "You stupid ..." " Ms. Christian said. How could you turn it down? They accepted you. Why didn't you just go? Ms. Christian is now addressing her depression and low self-esteem with the help of a therapist at the Service Program for Older People. She is also taking medication for heart disease, which was diagnosed last year. Several months ago, Ms. Christian's 12-year-old computer stopped working. It had been her primary means of communication and served as a revenue source; her online jewelry sales supplement her monthly income of $787 in Social Security Insurance. Upon hearing about the broken computer, Ms. Christian's therapist contacted the Federation of Protestant Welfare Agencies, one of the seven agencies supported by The New York Times Neediest Cases Fund. Ms. Christian was given $897 to purchase a new one and a desk chair. Ms. Christian believes that she will learn to better cope with Ms. Brown's death, overcome all her old fears and again put her paintings on exhibit. It is a gradual process, she knows, one that must not be rushed. She likens her pace to her favorite animal. "I always say I'm like a turtle," Ms. Christian said. I'm always so slow. I'll get there, but I'm slow.