I can't remember when I didn't love birds. When I was a boy, I could identify every British bird, most of them on the wing. I collected stuffed birds, too. I think I was eight or nine when I found a fledgling greenfinch in the garden in Dundee. My neighbour called it Tweety Pie - a female. I kept it in a shoebox in my bedroom. It would tweet from 5am onwards, but I was too lazy to get up until about six or seven.

I found a bird man, an expert, who told me to feed it with special food called Swoop. You mixed it with water. I fed it from my finger, and she gobbled it up. Then I helped her to fly using the back of the chair, tempting her to me with the Swoop. When she flew off, she would come back in to visit if I left the window open. Later, she came back to have her first brood in the holly bush.

Drawing has always been part of me, a passion. My mother and father are both artists. When I was 18, I went to college to do illustration, but packed it in after a year. I got a job in the Glasgow parks department. I planned nature trails for schools and illustrated leaflets. I did them in a Victorian style, using scraperboard to look like engraving. Sometimes I took the schoolkids out for a trail.

"Heh, sir, are you a punk?"

"Yes, children, I'm Nature Punk."

Of course, I was thinking about music all the time by then. When we formed the Postcard label in 1979 to put out Orange Juice records, I would illustrate a lot of stuff for it. As my music career went on, I've always drawn and designed.

I had a stroke, a brain haemorrhage, in 2005. I couldn't say anything at all at first and I couldn't read or write. I couldn't walk to begin with. My right hand didn't work. I'm right-handed. So, no more guitar. The first time I held a pencil, I could produce a scribble and that was it. I was in a confused state. Where do I start? I had to learn patience. I learned to read again, from scratch, with Ladybird's Key Word books. Imagine that. Writing is even harder. But I persevere and grind it out.

I took up my pencil more and more. At first I drew "The Guy" over and over again. It's mad, totally mad! I have 50 drawings of him. He looks a bit like me. I can't think why I did it now. Maybe I was stuck - but I think maybe he helped me.

Then I drew my first bird, a widgeon. It's quite crude, but I was pleased with the result. Each day I drew at least one bird. I was tired back then, but my stamina has grown. I could see my progress with each bird. Up, up, up. It's encouraging. The thing is, it's not just about switching to my left hand; my brain isn't the same as it was. Until recently, I only liked to use cheap notebook paper. Pencil drawings only. Everyone is telling me to use colour, but all in good time. I need to perfect my technique. I'm a creature of habit. But I'm now using posher cartridge paper. It changes your style.

When I draw there is no interference. Since my stroke, I am interfered with quite a lot. And this is not to my taste, although I have been very cooperative. But when I draw, I am in charge; I don't have a therapist or a wife bossing me about. I'm left to my own devices, in a world of my own. Drawing was the first skill to come back to me, so it meant the world. If I can draw, what else can I do? It gave me back my confidence in myself. And my dignity.

This past year, I've released a record recorded before my stroke, and mixed afterwards, with the help of my dear friend and engineer, Seb Lewsley. I've done press interviews and talked on radio and TV. The most wonderful thing is singing again with my band. We've been performing all over the place. It's been very hard work, though it's thrilling to be on stage again.

But I think my real recovery began with my first bird drawing. And now I'm showing my drawings in an exhibition. I'm looking forward to seeing them like this, and not sitting in piles on my table. I'm back on board. The possibilities are endless.

• Edwyn Collins: British Birdlife is at the Smithfield Gallery, London EC1 (020-7489 7550), until Saturday

• More drawings by Edwyn Collins