mouse notebook

pathways

2012-01-16T20:55:00.002Z

I have been thinking about pathways... the sort that we follow through life... the sort that make connections in our brains... the sort we walked along this weekend along the beautiful shoreline in south Cumbria... somehow they all meet up along the way as we try to make sense of the journey.

As my aim for this year is to learn how to be kind to myself, I have been thinking about how my thoughts go along certain pathways when I don't actually want to go in that direction... how thoughts throw you off course and you suddenly find yourself wandering aimlessly and wondering how you got there.

When I am emotionally drained and feel burdened by the pressure of responsibility, I can't be creative. I just can't. But I'm not sure why. I become angry and full of a destructive energy that works directly at odds with creativity. I spin into a strange state where I simultaneously wish to deprive myself of stimuli and also manically sort things out into some kind of order. I need to work out why I do this and what would be a kinder way of reacting... this way I hope to learn how to continue creating at some level even when things feel difficult.

This weekend marks the two-year anniversary of my list-keeping exercise over at Listography. Five things that make me happy every day... it opens my eyes, makes me notice, makes me thankful, keeps me a little bit sane some days... it's a wonderful way of recording the rhythms of the year. You can read about why I started it here.

goodbye 2011

2011-12-30T15:47:00.003Z

Perhaps inspired by the elegant decomposition surrounding Miss Havisham at Satis Hall, perhaps by the fragility of a searing headache, perhaps by the almost imperceptible slipping away of another twelve months, I have put together a mosaic of some of this year's Flickr favourites with a slightly ethereal, other-worldly feel...

There is nothing remarkable about these days... the weather is damp, the hours of daylight are short, the house is quiet. Books are being read, photo archives are being sorted out, words are being written down, turkey is being slowly eaten up. I am grateful for this time, which was badly needed.

I feel I have completed 2011 now*, and I am ready for 2012 which is going to be my year of being kind to myself... whatever that means... we will find out... I like adventures.

*See Megan's post for more about this.

With thanks to my Flickr contacts for these beautiful images:
1. waiting for you, 2. 095, 3. Feather collection, 4. DETERMINATION, 5. Untitled, 6. Untitled, 7. january0211_1, 8. Voewood heart, 9. Pine Cones

the darkest day

2011-12-21T10:02:00.004Z

Sometime tonight, just before tomorrow arrives, the sun will appear to stop in its tracks, and we in the northern hemisphere will experience the darkest, bleakest hours of winter before the earth begins to slowly turn again towards the light and the sun starts its journey southwards.

Solstice means ‘stand still’ and this is exactly what I feel compelled to do at this time of year: to be quiet and still, and think about all that has happened in the six months since the warmth and light of the summer solstice, and about all that might happen before we reach that time again next year.

For me, this time of thinking and being still has much more resonance than the fizz and pop of New Year’s Eve, which seems more like a sparkling finale to the Christmas festivities and a launch pad for the fresh new start which, by then, we all crave.

In these few days of calm, I find myself reflecting on all I have done and seen and felt since the summer. It has been a very mixed time for me this year and there has been a lot of worry and distraction. Creativity and positive energy has been scarce.

But just as the passing of the seasons brings continual renewal, there is the chance to stop and change direction, and this is my hope and intent for the next turn of the wheel. I have read much this year about caring for oneself, loving oneself, being kind to oneself. What if I set out to have as much fun as possible, to enjoy myself? What if I shed the skin of anxiety and worry, the sense of being under judgement, of needing to earn rest and peace and happiness? What if I chose to play more?

I expect lots of you – if you have managed to read this far – are rolling your eyes at this. It probably seems obvious. But I think freedom can be a difficult concept to accept. The prison gate is open, but we are afraid to leave.

Tonight and tomorrow I will light up the house with as many candles and fairy lights as we can find, the fire will burn brightly and we will have a few drinks to bring warmth and light to our bones. Lightness and brightness to lead us out of the darkness and into life.

we have winners...

2011-11-27T23:02:00.003Z

And they are...

Vivienne of Green Rabbit Designs, Annie of Knitsofacto, Frances of City Views, Country Dreams, Tess of Driftwood, and Helen of A Gallimaufry (Helen I can't find an email contact for you, so please email me with your postal address).

Thank you all for your lovely comments and for your continued support and appreciation which is always very very welcome. A little wreath or heart will be winging its way to the five winners very soon!

a catch-up and a giveaway

2011-11-25T18:59:00.009Z

Since we last met I've been doing various things...

I have visited (too briefly) the brilliantly inspiring Grayson Perry exhibition at the British Museum. It was brilliant, I would love to go again... don't miss it if you are passing through London.

I am reading Journal of a Solitude by May Sarton and am just about to start Wolf Hall.

I have joined a new choir and we are singing Vivaldi's Gloria and lots of lovely Christmassy music.

I have bought an easel and have begun to experiment with painting standing up. I love the sense of freedom and energy in the body when working this way.

I have been enjoying looking at the still lifes of John Bellany and the work of Janet Melrose:

I have also reached a hundred followers, which is lovely, and as a thank you I have a few bits and bobs from last years mouse winter shop that need a home... just leave a comment whether you are a follower or not and I will select three or four winners at random on Sunday evening.

I wish I could tell you the maker of the beautiful ceramic work at the top of the post... but I've forgotten... sorry.

paint it black

2011-11-06T15:01:00.002Z

Thank you so much to all who took the trouble to comment on my last post - an overwhelming vote of confidence in favour of black and self-expression!

I was delighted to find a new post on the Will Kemp Art School blog this week covering this very topic. Some of you may be interested to read it... it's here.

an experiment with colour

2011-10-29T14:36:00.002+01:00

This morning I did a little experiment with my acrylic paints. I wanted to see what differences the addition of white and black made to the pigments.

I've read a lot about whether to use black in painting or not, and I must confess to a degree of confusion over this. Black muddies the colours, right? And muddying is not good, is it? It's better to tone down your colour with its complementary, isn't it? Or is it? Because I really like muddy colours...

I thought the best way to explore this properly was to see what really happened to my colours when black (and white, to create tints) was added. And so I did an experiment. I painted little squares of all my paints straight out of the tube (bottom left). Then I added white to each one to make a tint (top left). Next, I started with tube colours again and added a very little black to each one (bottom right). Finally, I tinted these muted colours (top right). And this was the result:

Looking at these, I experienced a strong attraction to many of the colours, as well as quite a dislike of others. I thought it would be interesting to see which 'palette' held the colours I liked the best, if any.

So, I tore up lots of little bits of white paper, and I covered over all the colours I didn't much like. This was the result:

Several of the pure tints went straight away, as did many of the original pigments. Then I decided to get more ruthless and leave only colours I actively liked:

Not many left! And most of the brights gone. All the pure tints obscured except the muddy earth colours. But I still felt I hadn't been quite honest. Did I really like that bright red, and that ultramarine tint? No. So I did a final cull, leaving only colours I liked a lot and felt I might want to use:

Half the colours gone now. But what did remain was of interest: eleven 'pure' colours to seventeen 'blackened'... nine tinted colours to eighteen untinted. An extraordinarily clear preference for the blackened but untinted palette.

So, what to make of this information? The blackened, muddied colours that I feel like I 'shouldn't' be using turn out to be my favourites... Now, because I am someone who likes playing by the rules, this worries me. I'm also wondering how to use this information... should I stick to this palette to achieve work I like, or should I see it as a challenge to introduce colours I don't initally warm to, in order to broaden and open out my palette?

I would really welcome comments from anybody with experience of these questions and of painting. What are your feelings about using black as a mixing colour?

Out of interest, the colours, in a clockwise circle from bottom left to bottom right were:

Titanium White
Lemon Yellow
Azo Yellow Medium
Yellow Ochre
Burnt Sienna
Napthol Red Light (Cadmium Red would be better)
Alizarin Crimson
Ultramarine
Phthalo Blue (red shade)
Phthalo Blue (green shade)
Phthalo Green
Olive Green
Raw Umber
Burnt Umber
Mars Black

a little crochet moment

2011-10-27T09:44:00.002+01:00

It's been a while since we had a crochet moment on here, hasn't it? I think the last time was when I finished my odds-and-ends blanket back in May, but be assured that my hook has not been idle and here is the result: a lovely soft warm scarf in the baby-soft cashmerino that I bought in the summer.

It's such a beautiful colour and just right for autumn. The stitch is very simple and if anybody is interested, the details are below.

Five balls of Debbie Bliss Baby Cashmerino in shade 025 using a 5mm hook using treble stitch which is double in US crochet lingo (I think).
One shell = 2 tr, 1 ch, 2 tr.

Chain any multiple of 5 stitches, plus 4 extra (I did 44).

Row 1: 1 tr, 1 ch, 2 tr into 4th ch from hook, sk 4 ch, *shell into next ch, sk 4 ch, repeat from * to last ch then 2 tr, 1 ch, 1 tr in last ch, ch 3, turn.

Row 2: 1 tr, 1 ch, 2 tr in first ch space, shell in each ch space to end, 2 tr, 1 ch, 1 tr in last ch space, ch 3, turn.

Repeat row 1 until scarf is desired length.

Easy!

frame of mind

2011-10-24T15:52:00.003+01:00

This autumn is an interesting time for me and I am noting changes in my approach to things, especially creative things. I have always loved this time of year – well actually if you have been reading this blog for any length of time you will know that I love almost any time of year – but autumn has an exciting whiff of change and new beginnings to it that I always enjoy.

Over the past eight months or so, I’ve made discoveries about my creative self that have felt like giant leaps... it has been a marvellous liberation to close the door on textiles and fling wide the door to painting and fine art. I’ve learnt so much, and am quivering like an excited jelly at the thought of how much more and more and more there is to discover. Before, there was doubt and confusion and this so often led to stagnation or more often a sort of frightened petrification. Now, I feel so certain that painting and drawing are what I want to do that I am finding a determination and belief that works almost like an energy force to push me along.

Today I experienced and noticed this energy in a new way as I made a terrible hash of trying to paint this little still-life scene. The paint wouldn’t do what I wanted it to do, I couldn’t mix the right colours, I had so many questions, I felt such a newbie. But instead of the usual sulky, whiney voice that usually pipes up at times like these, I felt a new – and surprising – calmness and determination to find out why it wasn’t working, and to seek out the information I need.

And so I tried again, and this little painting is the result. I don’t show it because I’m especially pleased with it – although it is a lot better than the one I'm not showing! – but I am pleased with what I learned in order to make it, and with my new sense of ‘can’ rather than ‘can’t’.

autumn still life

2011-10-15T18:02:00.002+01:00

I went out into the garden today and sighed, because so much needed to be done, and there was interesting stuff to do indoors.

But I'm glad I did put my wellies on and go outside, and as I worked I realised these things about gardening:

It is good to be immersed in the smells of earth, of the scents of foliage as you cut back and brush past, the aroma of compost, and of growing things.

Quite a lot is possible in two hours: more than you expect.

You somehow become alert to another rhythm, a different perspective.

You are exposed to the unexpected.

On a bad day, it can be enough to make you want to carry on.

You become aware that everything in the garden will continue without your intervention, which is somehow soothing.

By some unknown means, it gets your thoughts moving, your anxieties settle, there is a peacefulness.

The fear that nothing will ever be completed seems to become oddly disarmed as you work, despite the fact that every job you begin seems to reveal another.

It is the perfect excuse for a cup of tea and a toasted teacake.

i'm really really hoping...

2011-10-05T11:19:00.002+01:00

...that the 'mighty oaks from little acorns' thing turns out to be true.

This week I've been doing some more painting, none of which would pass an O-level I'm afraid, but you have to start somewhere. I've been learning how the paint behaves and which brushes to use, and for the first time in my life I'm starting to understand the importance of pigments and colour mixing and all the things that you just aren't taught on a Textiles degree. It's frustrating because my mind is seeing big things that my hands can't yet produce, but I'm really enjoying it, and am starting to have a little more confidence in the medium.

I've also been doing a lot of thinking about the expectations we place on ourselves and asking myself some searching questions:

What if I didn't feel like I have to leave something of value in this life? What if everything was wiped at the end of each day?

What if nothing was attributed to individual effort anyway and we were all part of a whole, and it was a collaborative production?

What if I didn't feel I had to do 'something useful'? Who is determining what is useful anyway?

What if there's no pressure of time? What if it doesn't matter that I'm getting older because each day stands alone as a single entity, and this one is as precious, valuable and full of potential as one I lived through thirty years ago?

Scary? Wacky? Obvious? Liberating?

playing with scale

2011-09-20T15:24:00.002+01:00

This afternoon I've been trying to decide what scale of painting I best enjoy working on. I made four studies of these berries and found that there is some kind of equation going on... the size of the object over the amount of detail it represents, multiplied by the way the paint is applied and divided by my favourite brushes somehow equals the size of the finished painting and whether it 'works' for me or not.

Being someone who has been trained to draw rather than paint, I'm learning all the time. Whereas drawing (for me) is often about line and flat tone, I'm finding that painting is more about areas of colour and light and how the subject matter relates to its background.

When I view it as a learning process, it seems easier to do. Maybe that has the effect of overriding my perfectionism... whatever, I'm glad it works.

If you paint or draw... what scale do you enjoy working on?

city of light

2011-09-11T22:26:00.004+01:00

I’m not quite sure why Paris is called this, although of course it is filled with wonderful lights of all kinds, including the twinkling wonder of the Eiffel Tower illuminations which sparkle beautifully once an hour during the evening. We watched them from a little park near the Sacre Coeur and it was magical.

As well as being the city of light, we also found that Paris is the city of very expensive cafes, constant bustling crowds, and energy-draining humidity which rather limited our enjoyment of its delights on this occasion. Previously we have visited in the spring and I think this is the best time to go.

We did our noble best of course, and here are a few photographs that hopefully capture a very little of the undeniable poetic glamour, soft-focus elegance and romantic intensity that seep from every pore of this unique city.

These are the stairs from our third-floor apartment down to the little courtyard that led to the street. We stayed in the Temple district, near the Arts et Metiers metro station... a very mixed, non-touristy area that I might not choose again.

Parisians have lovely weddings... Parisians have lovely everything... but it all comes at a big price. It's one of the most expensive cities in the world to live in, apparently.

We trekked all over the city and bravely visited the edgy Canal St Martin area to have a cup of coffee at this very trendy landmark building. It was gorgeous inside. Apparently Johnny Depp has a place near here, but there was no sign of the beautiful one... just a rather persistent tramp who found us apparently irresistable.

The Parisians are excellent at municipal bedding in their delightful parks and gardens... not for them rigid rows of Busy Lizzies or begonias... just look at this gorgeous, frivolous, fresh and airy arrangement of cleome, dahlias, cosmos and grasses.

We spent a morning ambling in the vast labyrinth of the Cimetiere Pere Lachaise... this is where many famous musicians, artists, composers, singers, writers and others are buried, including Edith Piaf, Oscar Wilde and Jim Morrison.

Now we are home and I am loving the muted autumn light, coloured leaves, open fires , homemade cake and proper tea. It feels so good to be back in the familiarity of our home with the richness of real life available to me rather than the anxious need to fill the hours with the new and the different. There's nothing like a holiday for helping you to appreciate the beauties of home.

à bientôt

2011-09-04T20:24:00.003+01:00

Just a quick post to say that tomorrow I am off to Paris for a well-earned break and I am very excited! I have a new lipstick and a list of places to visit... although this will be my fifth trip to Paris there is still so much to see both new and old... I am looking forward to lots of inspiration, dreaming, sitting in cafes and drinking coffee, and I hope to have some lovely photos to show you when I get back. I am hoping not to have to use my parapluie too much...

balancing

2011-08-22T22:09:00.002+01:00

I’ve been painting.

But not that kind of painting... the other sort... where you climb up a ladder and get a stiff neck and a bad back and splodges of white paint in interesting places. It’s been exhausting and time-consuming but really worthwhile. The house looks fresher and brighter and ready for autumn.

I get into a kind of daydream when I’m working hard like this. I think I’ve finally realised that ‘it’ is never going to be ‘finished’ or ‘done’... the house, the garden, my lifestyle, whatever. I’d really love this not to be true, for there to come a time when I could sit back and relax and know that everything was beautiful... but when you do that, the weeds grow, the dust settles, the unexpected pops up. And when you concentrate on one thing, another thing gets forgotten. It’s endless.

The challenge of course is to accept this truth and not fight it, to learn how to weave in the other things and not to get frightened of things getting out of control, to know that it will all work out ok.

an honest perspective

2011-08-01T11:15:00.002+01:00

I'm going to be honest with you: I didn't do all those things on my list every day. Some days I did most of them, some days I did some of them and one day I did nothing except the housework. I found that what I thought would be a helpful prompt ended up being a nasty laughing reminder that I can't even manage the basics of life...

... and that's not good, because it's not true. I'm just not a list-and-routine sort of a person, that's all, however much I'd like to be - I work in rushes of energy, and then I daydream and rest - that's how I've always been, and that's how I suppose I always will be. Better start working with it, and more importantly, accepting and enjoying it... we can only be ourselves.

I did do a little painting though. Just to see if I could.

keeping it simple

2011-07-18T10:06:00.006+01:00

I spent most of yesterday feeling sorry for myself. This happens from time to time, and it's always ugly. There's no good reason for this, in fact quite the opposite: there are many good things in my life at the moment. But misery loves to focus on what we haven't got rather than what we have, doesn't it? And as we all know, misery loves company. It's amazing how quickly I can make a list as long as my arm of things that will change my life and cheer me up.

Anyway, today's a new day, and instead of moping about with the wanties, I've made a plan. Every day this week I'm going to do ALL the things on the list below. They're only little things, and it's not that I don't do these things sometimes, it's that I don't do them every day. And when I don't make things a habit, they get forgotten, and then they loom large and seem too difficult.

Everyday this week then, I am going to:

Do a drawing
Eat two apples
Drink 'enough' water
Wear a bright colour
Do 20 minutes of some kind of housework
Do some form of exercise

Simple...

All photographs were taken at the beautifully romantic garden at Mapperton Hall near where we stayed in Dorset.

beautiful dorset

2011-07-10T22:51:00.003+01:00

Just back from a week in wonderful west Dorset.... where we had sun, rain and wind, beaches and hillsides and woods and wildflower meadows, lots of pots of tea, piles of books and magazines, lovely walks, delicious things to eat, and a LOT of sleep. It was absolute bliss.

I am full of inspiration... for the house... for the garden... for painting and drawing... for life itself...

Just as I had hoped.

a lime green day

2011-06-23T16:21:00.003+01:00

I am not one of those people who go all dippy-skippy over bright, bright colours... I do really love colour, but I prefer it when it's seen in a tiny flash, like a kingfisher or a single buttercup in a hedgerow. There are certain colours though that make me go all weak and wanty, like pale dirty duck-egg blue, the beige-grey of unbleached linen, and today's colour, lime green...

As John Lewis were thoughtful enough to text me about the start of their summer clearance sale (uh? How did they get my number...?) I decided to go and 'have a look'...

It wasn't very long before ten balls of beautiful soft cashmerino yarn in the most perfect shade of slightly dirty yellow lime green 'found' their way into my basket... I wish you could feel how soft it is... it is absolutely divine and makes me want to stroke it. I am going to make it into a big, warm, lacy scarf for autumn. I love it.

Then, while I was waiting to pay (I had managed to wander all the way from the yarn department, past the shoes, clothes, make-up, fabric, cushions and bedlinen without buying anything else... how restrained am I?) this gorgeous gorgeous mug in the exact same colour appeared before me. Again, I wish you could reach into the photograph and stroke it... the lightly crackled glaze is so clear and the colour so pure and rich... it is hand-made in France by Jars (have a look at their website, it is beautiful). I am a firm believer in the cheering properties of a good mug, and as I need a new one for my tea at work, I had no difficulty in resisting it.

Lovely, lovely lime green. It ought to be available in little bottles from the chemist.

abstract still-life

2011-06-21T13:39:00.002+01:00

Been thinking and learning a lot from Keri Smith recently about creative play, as well as from Amy and Jamie from the Pikaland online art course I went on in the spring.

It seems that whenever I sit down to 'draw properly', I end up dissatisfied with the results... a perfectly good representation of a shell or a feather or a plant or whatever... but no soul. Yet when I stop trying too hard and decide to 'play' with art materials in a more abstract way, I surprise myself with interesting compositions and patterns that are way more stimulating than the 'proper' art...

I know what I have to do... introduce one side of the family to the other...

small and pretty things

2011-06-09T15:14:00.002+01:00

In the midst of life it is the small but lovely things that sing out... like this little bunch of gloriously scented just-picked flowers from the garden... and a piece of sponge cake with lemon curd and cream... I am particularly happy about this as I have finally discovered how to make a light-as-air sponge cake which is also gluten free. A mini-triumph... the best kind, I think.

"not matter the long pause..."

2011-05-31T13:42:00.004+01:00

This excellent piece of advice was given to me by Rossichka in a comment she made on a previous post... she meant it about art... getting round to it again after many years, beginning to find a voice. However, I have come to see the truth of it in so many areas of life... making art, yes, and also reading and learning about it through books and exhibitions... picking up a forgotten novel again... remembering to take pleasure in clothes and my appearance... reviving my interest in walking and generally exercising more... finding new life in a relationship... and so many other things, including...

...finally finishing a piece of crochet! This blanket was started exactly a year ago and I wrote about it at the end of this post. It's a proper old-fashioned, make-do-and-mend, frugal patchwork blanket made to use up odds and ends of wool from previous projects and no new yarn. Apart from choosing colours that complemented one another, there was no great design involved, just picking up a yarn, working a square, selecting another colour and adding another square, and so on. When the yarn ran out, it was finished.

It's made with all different weights and types of yarn, mostly aran but some dk or finer, which I doubled up to get the right thickness.

Then I used a mid-blue to do a nice scalloped edge:

I love the back of it:

It has a soft, dimpled comfortable feel to it which is different to the front:

So for all of you who have unfinished projects on shelves or in baskets, or plans that haven't yet come to fruition, or unfulfilled intentions, or a sense of stagnation about things... these words are for you too:

Not matter the long pause.

It's true even, or especially, if you previously thought there was a full-stop. You can change a full-stop into a comma quite easily, you know... just add a tail.

nobody here but us chickens

2011-05-23T21:33:00.002+01:00

These energetic, characterful and beautifully drawn hens were sketched, probably by a little boy called Robert, about three hundred and fifty years ago in the Taylor family Bible. Aren’t they exquisite? I love the curious, slightly bonkers expressions on their little chicken faces.

This sort of thing is the reason I love my job. To find out a little more about the chickens (but not much, because they will always remain rather an enigma) have a look at the Chetham’s Library blog, home of all things quirky and interesting, many of them in an untidy pile on my desk.

Clicking on the images will enlarge them - because they're worth it.

holding on

2011-05-13T18:10:00.002+01:00

This beautiful image of Japanese carp kites is taken from a tiny little calendar book from 1901 which we found at work today. It's about 6cm square and is printed on beautifully crinkled, terribly fragile crepe paper in these lovely watery shades. Every May, Family Day is celebrated in Japan (although I think it was still called Boys' Day in 1901) and these paper kites are strung up to flutter in the breeze as a symbol of good wishes for your family and children.

Our family has been rather disrupted this last fortnight or so, but I think we are finding some sort of equilibrium again now. Lots of changes are happening which are all quite sudden and surprising although hopefully, positive, and so this image of the happy, colourful carp swimming bravely in the wind is a good one for me just now.

home truths

2011-04-26T20:07:00.003+01:00

I found myself doing much more reading on my ‘art holiday’ than I had imagined, as I got a terrible cold which confined me to bed for most of the week. At first I was irritated, even angry about this, but decided to be open-minded and spend the time reading, writing and thinking productively even if I didn’t produce much work. I spent a fair bit of time working rather haphazardly and sketchily through The Artist’s Way*, which although definitely qualifying as navel-gazing of the highest order, did prove to be quite illuminating and helped me make sense of some of the thoughts spinning round my head. I was particularly inspired by the exercises to identify your creative dreams and aspirations. In between sniffing and sneezing and eating too many Easter eggs, I learnt/admitted/discovered these things about myself:

I would like to paint large canvasses

My most cheer-me-up music is trad jazz

I’d like to learn printmaking

I worry a lot about wasting time

I’d love to dye my hair very blonde

In another life I’d be a singer in a band or a window dresser for Anthropologie

I wish I was braver

I’d like to own red shoes, more silver bangles and an easel

When I was a child I wanted to be a ballet teacher

I am getting better at believing in myself

What I need to do as a matter of urgency is carve out regular, uninterrupted time for myself to paint and draw. How I do this I am not yet sure... what I do know is that, perversely, it is something inside me that stops this happening just as much as external events. I need to stop fighting myself.

*The Artist's Way by Julia Cameron

art holiday

2011-04-11T17:35:00.002+01:00

This week my sons have gone on holiday with their dad and I am free of family responsibilities for five days, so I decided to book time off work and have an art holiday at home by myself.

The house is clean, all our clothes are clean, and there is food in the fridge... I plan to tell no-one I am here and just get up in the morning, go for a walk, come back and hang out in my artroom all day. What bliss. Knowing my life, something will probably happen to disturb all this, but that is ok... I have prepared myself... a pessimist is never disappointed.

Today began rather early (at four o'clock) so the day has been a little slow to get going, but I have had a peaceful time drawing funny little apples from a picture in a magazine. I am finding that I am still preoccupied with experimentation in lots of different media and seeing what pleases me and what effects I can achieve. It is pleasing to my tidy mind to cross candidates off the bottom of the list and not bother with them much again: charcoal, chalk pastel and coloured inks have all had three buzzes and left the stage, and the jury is out on oil pastels.

I hope to have some more to show you by the end of the week... if all goes well.

Elizabeth Blackadder

2011-04-05T21:27:00.002+01:00

I wish I could tell you this was my work... but it's Elizabeth Blackadder... I'm really looking forward to seeing her retrospective at the Scottish National Galleries this autumn.

I've been a bit of a renegade on my art course and haven't done the last two assignments. I have been doing a lot of experimental drawing though, which I think is more valuable to me in my growth and development. Nothing even half good enough to show... but maybe one day soon.

PS Hopefully I have sorted out the missing picture now... please let me know if you still can't see it.

inspired by Rose Hilton

2011-03-24T13:26:00.005Z

Rose Hilton: Studio Table

I was really inspired by this piece in the Guardian this Saturday about the painter Rose Hilton. Surely nobody could have had less support or encouragement to realise their dreams, ambition and talent, and yet she is now painting happily and beautifully at the age of eighty.

Married to the St Ives big gun Roger Hilton until his death in 1975, she was discouraged from painting first by her religious parents and then by Roger himself, but ignored all this and did it anyway. I love her work, but more than that I love her story, which is an inspired fairytale ending for all creative women trapped by domesticity or lack of encouragement.

I am still loving my online art course which is now over halfway through. I am relishing the challenge of the assignments and resolving problems artistically once again. My dreams are full of paint surfaces, strange perspectives and the quality of line. I am struggling to produce work that I really like, but that is ok, because it is an age since I worked this way, and indeed I have never worked this way with the benefit of experience and maturity that the years since my art degree have brought.

I am beginning to wish that I had studied for a fine art degree instead of my textiles qualification, which majored in embroidery. I do love embellished surfaces and stitch, but I have never loved fabric in the right sort of way to make it work for me, and this is something I realised early on in my degree but never had the confidence to resolve. I can remember being directed towards embroidery by an enthusiastic tutor on my foundation course who thought that my giant tissue paper and pva daffodils showed a leaning towards textiles... of course I never thought to question her... but life has many different threads and there are all sorts of reasons for our decisions, and who knows what the pattern of my life might have looked like if I had not set out for Manchester School of Art in the autumn of 1985...

Anyway, here I am now, the person that I am with the life that I have. I am certainly no Rose Hilton, but I am enjoying painting and drawing again, and that is enough for now. Maybe one day I might be brave enough to apply for the MA that I have always wanted to do, but never have, and perhaps that's why... perhaps it needs to be in fine art, not textiles.

composition

2011-03-16T20:19:00.003Z

William Nicholson: White Orchids on Books 1916

Been thinking a lot about the qualities of still life and composition since my last post and thought I would share with you the wonderful Tumblr site Still Life Quick Heart which I've recently discovered. A constant stream of different images of still life in all its different forms, from ancient to modern, all through the day... fantastic inspiration.

I've been drawing this week and thinking about a close relation of the artist featured above... one of my all time favourite painters and a constant source of inspiration, especially his drawings and sketches. I particularly love the work he did in Cumbria when he was still married to Winifred Nicholson:

Ben Nicholson: Foothills, Cumberland 1928

And this is where I shall be (or very nearby) for the weekend, which makes me very happy indeed. Wishing you all a happy few days doing something you love... back next week.

still life

2011-03-12T17:47:00.002Z

This week's drawing project: a still life with plants and objects from my garden, in gouache and pencil. The assignment this week was to think about and list the things we know and love, with the aim of finding a more personal creative voice. As you know, I adore this sort of navel-gazing exercise, but the discipline of having to produce not one but three pieces of work kept me from completely disappearing up my own backside.

The second part of the exercise was to reproduce the image as a collage:

And lastly to consider the tonal values by limiting ourselves to ink and paper:

I found the second two pieces very challenging but have learned such a lot from persevering with them. Successes and failures in all three pieces, but that's the whole point... to learn. I think what is interesting is straightaway I kind of knew what I might use again, and what I definitely won't... collage is tricky and slow... ink is fun after a bit of practice.

looking

2011-03-07T19:12:00.004Z

Pierre Bonnard: Work Table 1926-1937

I have long been fascinated by how we look and what we see. When I was in New York two years ago I went with the beautiful Frances to a wonderful exhibition of the work of Pierre Bonnard which has had a big effect on the way I look at painting in so many ways. His composition, colour and use of light is masterful but it is the overall way of looking that strikes me deep down. On the wall were some of his words:

"I'm trying to do what I have never done, give the impression one has on entering a room: one sees everything and nothing at the same time."

In contrast, the finely detailed work of the pre-Raphaelites looks at the world in a very different way to the impressionist work of Bonnard. Every inch of the canvas is painted with close attention to detail and in his review for the Telegraph in October 2008, Richard Dorment writes:

"...the eye tires of looking because Hunt didn't know (or didn't care) that in real life when we focus on an object in the foreground, the background and peripheral areas of the scene are blurred - and vice versa."

What interests me in my own drawing and painting is to be able to distil a scene to its essence, to remove everything that isn't relevant whilst layering on an even greater depth of interest and meaning. I want to produce work which will offer a sudden, intense view of a moment. To achieve what is in some ways the opposite of what Holman Hunt was doing but in other ways is a kind of nightmarish version: a sort of fever-induced close-up of Bonnard's first impressions.

I'm still miles away from all this of course.

snowdrop garden

2011-03-07T14:15:00.002Z

Just a quick post to display this drawing I (finally) produced for the online course I'm doing. It's based on the walled garden photographs I took at Rode Hall last week, you can see some of these below and more on my Flickr page. It's a bit constipated and lacks technical expertise (I am out of practice) but on the whole I'm pleased with the work I've done over the last few days. Next week's assignment has already been posted so I'd better run.

spring boot camp!

2011-03-01T17:29:00.004Z

Today I took a little trip out of the city to see some snowdrops and other signs of spring at Rode Hall, a lovely and rather nicely dilapidated big house deep in the Cheshire countryside.

I took my camera as I needed some photographs for the first assignation in the Pikaland Artists Bootcamp which began this week... I have been feeling for a while that I need a good kick up the backside to help me get going with making some art this year, and when I read the course description, this sounded like just the thing to get me motivated. It's a six-week course and we are starting by deconstructing what makes a good work of art. I'm loving it already.

Of course, snowdrops don't have to try too hard to look pretty...

Surrounded by lovely fat buds and fragrant spring flowering shrubs...

On your return you are greeted by the heady scent of gorgeous purple hyacinths and little pots of snowdrops 'in the green' to buy in the courtyard shop...

Just what I needed to blow away the cobwebs of winter on this lovely sunny day. Now the light is finally fading and the clear sky means a chilly night: time to bring in some kindling and logs and get cosy for an evening of deconstruction...

i am a portu-gal

2011-02-17T10:46:00.005Z

I have always considered getting on a plane in pursuit of a little winter sun to be a little bit soft. I am often to be found proclaiming that England is beautiful in every season and there is something of value whatever the weather. The bleak, spare, winter landscape reveals a purist beauty that sustains the truly discerning nature-lover...

I have been irritating people with this point of view for many years now, but all that is in the past because this year I have discovered... the Algarve!

Now I am a Grandma* my bones are beginning to feel the cold, and so we counted up our airmiles and worked out how far south we could fly without having to resort to eating our own skin out of boredom. The answer was - is - Faro...

Knowing nothing about southern Portugal, I had no idea what to expect, but what we found exceeded anything we had imagined. This is what we discovered:

A landscape nursed by sunlight, low-lying near the coast, with sand-spit lagoons protecting acres of saltmarshes filled with birds and inlets and little boats and ricketty houses and the smell of the sea.

Further along there are miles of nearly deserted sandy beaches, clean and warm with the sparkling turquoise waters of the Atlantic rushing and tugging at your feet. Fishing towns with wonderfully distressed houses and paintwork and Moorish castles and little cobbled streets.

Inland, there is a pinky white froth of almond blossom, carob and olive orchards, endless groves of oranges and lemons in their plump citrussy beauty, black-and-white storks nesting high in the chimneys of abandoned sardine factories, and exquisite Arabic influenced architecture. Further away are the hazy mountains with twisting roads leading to little white villages surrounded by wild mimosa, cork forests and row upon row of tiny umbrella pines grown for their pine nuts.

I am a total convert. Yes, there are expensive yachts and manicured golf-courses and big ugly concrete hotels and conversely an awful lot of rural poverty and sad little dogs outside deserted farmhouses and other things you might rather not see. But somehow these things make it more real, and I like that. It is a really lovely place.

This is a cork oak which has been stripped for its bark- the number 0 on the trunk shows that it was done last year. Seven years have to go by before the cork can be harvested again.

If you are tempted to go I cannot recommend highly enough the wonderful Quinta da Cebola Vermelha which is run by a lovely Dutch family in the countryside near Boliquieme. Everything is exquisitely tasteful, the food is delicious, the rooms are scrupulously clean, there is a pool and an olive grove and cypress trees and a log fire for cold evenings and a sweet little rescue dog called Jojo.

There are some more photos on Flickr including lots of the gorgeous, delicate, beautifully coloured, tangled fishing nets.

PS On the menu below, what would you have chosen...?

* This is a wonderful excuse for all kinds of previously scorned-upon behaviour

a living scrapbook

2011-02-09T13:39:00.002Z

Wallpaper from the 1690s found in a house on Fournier Street in East London

If you love scraps of history, old wallpaper designs and tiny, amazing windows into the lives of real people over the last three hundred years, go immediately to the Gentle Author's blog at Spitalfields Life and read this wonderful, magical, humbling, inspiring post. Then have a browse and get lost in the maze of posts, and read some more. I love this blog.

the quiet harmony of perfect taste

2011-02-07T12:33:00.003Z

February is not very old yet already I feel I have the measure of it. It is dark and grey and stormy, and the lack of light forces us to experience the world through a sort of blindfold: when our vision is diminished, we rely on our other senses. I had many things to show you in this post yet the light is so poor that cruel February has stolen even my pictures and so the 'illustrations' will have to remain in your imaginations.

It is said that those who are blind are sometimes able to experience light through other sensations, and in the same way it is through the heat of the log fire and the scent of hyacinths and a tiny sprig of Sarcococca(Christmas Box) that I am finding brightness at the moment. Also, through the power of sheer escape: last weekend we ate a delicious lunch and drank exquisite cups of hot strong tea at one of my favourite places:

There is a splendid old advertisement hanging on the wall as you queue for a table and I love its language and sentiment. It is exactly what I felt as we drove there:

"Let's go to Betty's, where we can meet our friends, and discuss things amongst surroundings that have the quiet harmony of perfect taste."

On the way we saw the patterns of twigs and buds and fields and sheep with a flock of lapwings twisting and turning overhead. On the way back we saw the most enormous red sun dipping away into the dark horizon. A wonderful tonic for these dark days.

Another excellent tonic is ordering a little but lovely piece of art from a talented artist: when I received my beautiful print from Amanda at Mangle Prints I found that she had generously slipped in this ephemeral printed waxed heart that hangs and gently turns at the window, filtering the lean pale light through its delicate design. Her work is lovely: have a look here.

a shadowy quiet

2011-01-27T16:11:00.002Z

January is a very still, quiet month. Not much happens and not much changes.

I have been quiet too, especially on here. There's not much light for photographs and not many words in any case. I am not at all unhappy, and family life is full and busy. There just isn't much to report. I'm not feeling especially witty, I haven't been creating every day, there is nothing particular to share. I'm slightly disappointed that this is all I can say about my January, but so it is.

What there has been is the rhythm of daily life, recovery from illness, slow growth, a huge winter turn-out, log fires, some crochet and some reading, enjoying the lengthening days, little green shoots, the sound of birdsong again. I have been really enjoying this and I loved this, and this is interesting too.

a little light in the darkness

2011-01-13T13:52:00.005Z

I am finding that I need to hold on really tightly at the moment to my words and wishes... so many things threaten to chase them away... tiredness, dark nights, heaviness, work.

I am someone who generally likes to operate on a spontaneous basis from within a framework of stability. When instability makes spontaneity impossible or too difficult, it can feel like a sort of entrapment, and the only things I end up doing are the things I don't want to do. So I have been challenged to approach things differently... normally I like to book holidays when I feel like taking them... this year I have decided to book them in now so that they are there, ready to pop up when I need them (and I do, already). So, this weekend we are going away for one night to a lovely boutique hotel in one of my favourite ever places, and next month we are cashing in half our Airmiles for a few days of sun. In the summer I have a tiny little cottage lined up. In the autumn I think we might go and see Paris again.

Normally this sort of forward planning scares me, but one of the things that's given me confidence is having completed a whole year of lists. A year ago, I decided to list five things every day that made me happy... reading back over the year is a wonderful aide memoire of all the things we did and the places we went and when we went... meaning that this year, I can predict for myself when something new might be just the thing. It's also a lovely record of the changes of seasons, moods, little people, the garden, the birds, everything that's meaningful. If you haven't discovered Listography yet, I passionately recommend it! You can search your lists, I love doing that.

...newness of life

2011-01-06T14:12:00.006Z

Thank you so much for your good wishes for 2011. Along with others that I have received this year in cards and letters, I have created a mobile to remind myself of all the words that others have wished, prayed and hoped for me this new year. I have attached it to my lampshade where it is twirling gently in the warm air, releasing all these good things into my life...

I would like to wish all these same things for you, my friends, and so here they are... catch them and sew them up into your own lives too...

...light...spirit...wonderful...peace...expression...happiness...
fulfilment...God...amazing...space...resilience...joy...time...love...
...laughter...health...reflection...growth...inspiration...fun...
...creativity...

all that is past...

2010-12-31T19:06:00.002Z

Another year has come to its end. In my mind I have always visualised each passing year in a sort of linear, tabular form... so that as one year ends, the eye of my mind is required to forcibly lift itself up from the bottom right hand corner, where the December days are dark and worn, and move up, along and over, to the top left, to January: to a place of gradually increasing light... a new page, a clean beginning, a fresh start. This year, I am so ready for that new page. It has been a challenging and frustrating twelve months. Pleasures and achievements have been small but intense... some of them are illustrated here.

My wish for us all this new year is light, laughter, peace, happy memories, creativity, fun, health, good times, lovely surprises, warm weather, and friendship. All the way through to the end.

here there is peace, and a short while for dreaming...

2010-12-19T22:32:00.006Z

The snow has wrought a silence and a stillness which at first seems to sit uneasily with this busy time of preparation and creativity. There are cards and gifts to be delivered, supplies to be bought, errands to run, yet the ground outside is as uncompromisingly hard as iron and cold as ice. The freezing weather is its own master, and now ours too. Jobs must wait. Excess is stripped away. Everything is pared down to an essential skeleton. I rather like this, but then again, I am not spending my nights on an airport trolley, or waiting anxiously for the return of loved ones.

The weather brings a surprising mix of the necessary and the unexpected. For me, this afternoon, an unplanned but very welcome time of peace and quiet alone with the scent of the Christmas tree and a log fire, full of thankfulness for a mended boiler and for the hot water and warmth that it brings. Lemon-and-orange curd cooling in the kitchen, and jobs done, as far as I am able. Time to think and reflect and to wait expectantly for the winter solstice: deep in the freezing darkness of tomorrow night, when at last the earth will begin to turn and move towards the sun once more, and every day will be a few minutes longer than the last.

The craft market on Saturday was echoingly quiet, the snow keeping everyone at home. It was disappointing, but I have made sufficient sales this winter to fund my art materials for next year, which was my goal, and it is too easy to become greedy. I have a few items left over, however, so if anybody wants to buy a box of the paper and stitch bunting or a string of little linen birds, let me know, although I won't be able to get them to you for Christmas. The bunting is £8 and the birds are £14 which includes P&P to the UK.

inspiration

2010-12-13T20:27:00.002Z

I have been so amazed and inspired today by this article, I can't stop thinking about it. I can't get this out of my head either: if all of us who have enough gave something to those who haven't, we would only need to give 1% of our incomes to completely eradicate poverty.

be quick...

2010-12-09T22:03:00.002Z

...if you'd like to buy anything from the winter shop as it will be closing at the weekend for this year. It may be back next year, I'm not sure yet, we'll see. There are still a very few bags, Christmas wreaths, organic cotton washcloths, and these chocolate brown linen hearts, finished off with a vintage button and a tiny string of beads. Postage and packing remains free to the UK. Many thanks to all who have bought from the shop already and for all your lovely compliments and great feedback! Shop link here.

recycled toast

2010-12-07T15:53:00.005Z

I love the Toast catalogue, but it is too expensive for me and anyway, as I am not seven stone I fear I would look like an overdressed shepherd if I wore any of their clothes. However, it is lovely quality paper with gorgeous colour and detail, so I decided to cut it up and make Christmas garlands with it.

First of all I stuck gold paper to the reverse, then I stamped out hundreds of little scalloped rounds... a bit like making paper mince pies... then I made them into little piles and whizzed them into a long length with metallic thread on the sewing machine. A few minutes spent fanning them out into little globes and the beautiful paper is visible again and they look absolutely gorgeous. It's hard to show how lovely they are on a photograph but the rich colours with the gold accents remind me of Renaissance paintings. I'll be offering these for sale at my last craft market of the season (see below for details).

Next to be sacrificed was my carefully saved pile of Plumo catalogues, which underwent a similar treatment but these ones I have made into single hemispheres for this year's Christmas cards... simple little Christmas trees with surprise fold-out stars on top.

If you are in Manchester on the weekend of the 18th/19th December, please come along to the Whitworth Art Gallery Christmas Craft Market! I'll be there and so will lots of other makers and artists with lots of lovely things to see and buy. I have heard stories about carols and mince pies too...

new things in the shop

2010-11-28T11:24:00.004Z

There are a few new things in the shop today - market bags in beautiful, washable, soft green and white cotton, handpainted christmas decorations, and garlands made of vintage sheet music...

The decorations and garlands come in cellophane bags and are perfect for popping in with a Christmas card for a little extra gift.

There are still a few everlasting wreaths, sturdy hand-embroidered denim bags, pure organic hand-crocheted facecloths and embroided linen hearts to buy too, but hurry as stocks are thinning out. Don't forget that postage and packing remains free to anywhere in the world!

Shop link here.

a very special hankie

2010-11-24T13:02:00.003Z

If you are a properly trained museums, libraries and archives person, it's probably best to look away now, as this morning I have been having a lovely time playing at textile conservation, and I'm quite certain that I haven't done anything 'by the book' at all.

This souvenir handkerchief was produced in 1894 to commemorate the opening of the Manchester Ship Canal, and it needed to be mounted and displayed for an exhibition that we are doing here at work.

Ever since visiting the Textile Conservation Centre in Hampton Court as part of my degree course over twenty years ago, I have harboured a secret desire to become a textile conservator, so it was all play and no work to bring in my needles and thread this morning, having been tasked with the job of mounting it on a backing board ready to be sent to the framers. I was very worried about not using archival quality materials or doing something irreversibly dreadful, but after a bit of self-education online, some careful preparation and a lot of teeny weeny stitches, I think that in the end it was a fairly credible effort. I thoroughly enjoyed myself anyway.

apples and mistletoe

2010-11-23T10:25:00.005Z

Yesterday we returned from a winter weekend in Herefordshire which was spent mostly underneath a blanket of cold fog. It was a time for roaring fires, mulled apple juice and some time looking inwards.

I love the slow disintegration and sparseness of this time of year. At Croft Castle we saw apple trees pruned hard, their branches reduced to gnarled stumps, yet still bearing rough-skinned, golden eating apples with soft sweet flesh. We picked a bag of fresh windfall walnuts, their green cases leaking deep brown dye onto our fingers.

Mistletoe is everywhere in Herefordshire. I love its bare shape, the palest creamy green colour of the berries and its ancient magic and symbolism. It grows in the most perfect balls like ethereal baubles high up in the trees.

Or sometimes low down in the trees, low enough to kiss under.

Piles of prunings surrounded the orchard trees. This is a time for trimming, tidying and sweeping and then leaving things alone to rest quietly for the short cold days and long dark nights.

This is the cottage we stayed in for the first part of our honeymoon in June 2007. It was the wettest summer in living memory and like many others in the country we were flooded out and forced to relocate. You can see pictures from that summer here.

These apples were waiting to be pressed for cider, although they did look a bit grubby. But I expect that all adds flavour. Their sweet heady smell in the fresh afternoon air was wonderful.

One of the things I read while we were away was this astonishing article about the painter Sargy Mann. It is a remarkable tribute to the human spirit and the force of creativity and I found it a tremendous inspiration.

the winter shop is open!

2010-11-15T19:07:00.002Z

Many of you have very kindly asked if I will be selling online this year, and I'm pleased to say that the answer is a resounding 'yes!' The shop is now nicely stocked with goodies and will stay open for the next four weeks. The first ten orders will receive a little packet of twenty-four advent gift tags (as seen above and below) completely free, so it may be worth your while ordering early if you are the sort of person who might wrap up little presents for your family (or yourself) to find and open in the days and weeks leading up to Christmas. Not only that, but there is FREE postage and packing to anywhere in the world for the duration of the opening.

Thank you also to all those who wished me well for the craft market yesterday. It went fairly well and I managed to survive both the jolly skiffle band and the lack of tea with creditable stoicism. However, I do think, for what its worth and in case there are any event organisers reading this, that on the whole craft and vintage don't make a good business mix. Vintage-seekers love a good bargain, and that's not necessarily the right frame of mind for buying handmade quality craft items which are often a person's livelihood and deserve to attract their true value.

Anyway, do please visit the shop and see if anything takes your fancy. Only five-and-a-half weeks to Christmas, and did I mention that postage and packing is FREE?! (That's shipping to non-UK readers. Free shipping! FREE!)

suffolk puffs

2010-11-13T20:32:00.002Z

I won't tell you what my husband said when I mentioned Suffolk Puffs, but if you know anything about the inclinations of East Anglian-dwelling mid-century English composers and their mellow-voiced companions, you'll be nearly there. It was all in the best possible taste, of course - we are big fans in this household. *

I made this to wear tomorrow at my first market of the season, as I was suddenly seized by a compulsion to wear a tiny splash of red together with my new red lipstick. I'm a firm believer in following these sorts of urges and so in between packing stock into boxes and eating supper, this got made. Suffolk Puffs have been on my mind recently, as a tutor on my degree course is retiring, and her ex-students have been asked to each contribute a puff for a presentation piece for her. The Liberty fabric I have used for Isabel's puff and this little flower is actually a piece of the dress I wore to my Embroidery degree show twenty-two years ago in 1988 - now sadly a wee bit tight around the middle! I pulled up the puffs tightly five times around the centre to create the stubby little petals.

Everything is finally ready for an early start in the morning and I'm currently in that strange kind of adrenalin-fuelled yet foggily tired state that follows several days of intense creativity and preparation. It's the same way that I feel late on Christmas Eve. I've no idea what to expect from the market, but I am hoping that people will have at least a few pounds in their purses to spend on pretty things despite the recession.

I did take some photos of everything but poor light and camera shake rendered them all useless. Hopefully there'll be a moment to take a few snaps tomorrow. I know some of you are hoping to come along - I'm really looking forward to seeing you there!

*If you have the faintest idea of what I am on about and would like to see one of my favourite all-time clips, click here. Sheer class.

winter market dates

2010-11-01T10:42:00.006Z

I definitely have a problem with piles at the moment... piles of music garlands, poetry snowflakes, little golden crocheted snowflakes, tree decorations, bags, everlasting spruce wreaths, ribbon, tissue, card, labels... on the table, on the floor, on the ironing board, on the chairs, windowsills, shelves and on top of still more piles of fabric, magazines and boxes... all these are gathering together in my artroom for last-minute assembly and packing up.

I'm really pleased to say that I have been accepted for two winter craft markets in South Manchester this year, as well as having the opportunity to present a selection of gifts and pretty things for sale at my friend Anne's gardening classes. I'm really hoping that these wintry offerings will sell well and help to fund art and craft materials over the next year. I would absolutely love to see you if you live nearby and are able to come to either of the markets... details are below.

Finders Keepers Craft and Vintage Fair
Sunday November 14th 10am-4pm
The Moor Suite
35 Heaton Moor Road
Heaton Moor
Stockport

Christmas Craft Fair
Saturday 18th December (all day - times to be announced)
Whitworth Art Gallery
Wilmslow Road
Manchester

a few early snowflakes

2010-10-28T09:27:00.003+01:00

These little snowflake decorations are made from cardboard and gesso, given two coats of Farrow and Ball emulsion from my stash of tester pots and then handpainted. They will eventually have silvery gold thread but I wanted to share the colours I have chosen this year, although it is difficult to represent these accurately.

I have spent a lot of time this month refining ideas and introducing a more delicate feel and subtle palette, which is what I felt was lacking from several of the items I produced a couple of years ago. I have enjoyed the sense of creating a collection which looks good as a whole and in which the different products complement one another, as well as being attractive individually.

All of these will be on sale at the winter craft markets I plan to do in the next couple of months, and many will be available in the online shop as a one-off, seasonal event. This is something I may revisit in future years as I like the idea of a winter shop window which then allows me to involve myself in other artistic pursuits over the rest of the year.

This is a close-up of my poetry snowflake garlands which have been fun to make and look gorgeous catching the evening sun. All of these early snow flutters are making me expectant for winter and Christmas!

little silvery mysteries

2010-10-25T12:09:00.004+01:00

This mysterious little signpost reminded me of something the Famous Five might have come across on one of their Cornish adventures (the proper, line-drawn, hardback Famous Five that is, not modern TV parodies or any of their horrible politically correct manifestations).

We found it yesterday on one of the nicest walks ever, in one of our favourite places ever, a beautiful, perfect little corner of England that must have every geographical feature on the map: coast, coves, cliffs, marshes, lakes, little woods and fields, churches, pubs, shops, gorgeous gorgeous houses, and nearly every bird and mammal in the book too. It's exactly an hour away in the car (if I am the passenger rather than the driver) and sooooo good for the soul.

The Famous Five would have been useful to help solve the puzzle of this little ticket which we found on the floor of the tearoom where we enjoyed a pot of reviving tea... perhaps dropped by Runner Number Six him-or-herself. But with no other clues to be seen, we couldn't guess where, how or when he or she might have been racing...

I wish I could have shown you a photograph of the huge silvery moon that rose above the horizon on the journey home like a big old coin in the hand of a kindly grandparent. Its magic was palpable.

taking liberties

2010-10-18T13:13:00.002+01:00

A productive morning today, and a little break now for a much needed cuppa and a think. I have taken a day off work this week to give me a run of four days to work on new things for the winter craft markets I am hoping to do, although watch this space for a post on why I am never going to do this again!

This little paisley design is for a new version of the heavy cotton 'everyday' bags that sold so well two years ago. Last time they had a lot of hand embroidery which isn't practical for me to finish in the time I have available this year, and of course it is difficult to charge what the item is worth in terms of labour - a perennial problem for all makers of handmade things. So I've cut a design from a scrap of Liberty fabric backed with fusible webbing (which I still call Bondina) and added a few stitches on top. I'm not quite happy with the handstitch, so this afternoon I plan to play with a little machine stitch and see what happens.

do you see what I see?

2010-10-11T19:29:00.003+01:00

Well yes, you do, because this is exactly what I saw this morning, as I sat at my kitchen table drinking a mug of tea. One of those little moments during a sunny golden day in the middle of October when everything is quiet and nothing moves except for the chirrup of birds outside in the trees and the occasional leaf meandering down to the ground. A moment of nothing much, yet contained within that moment is everything that is good and happy.

Recently my head has been strangely empty, as if its contents had been siphoned out and swished around a bit. That's ok. Sometimes when days are full of busyness there isn't much time for thinking. Despite this, I sense a sort of shape-shifting activity, as if when my thoughts find form again, they will reflect a different perspective. I hope so.

woven scraps

2010-10-01T13:01:00.004+01:00

I found this amazingly beautiful piece of Chinese woven paper at work today. It is pasted into a scrapbook of notes and sketches by Thomas Barritt (1743-1820) who worked as a saddlemaker and was also a hugely keen local historian, collecting thousands of objects and manuscripts and making volumes of notes over his lifetime. I love this little scrap, which must almost certainly date from before 1800. If you click on the image, and then click again, you can see the lovely handcoloured paper and the incredible amount of work which has gone into creating the image. Whether it is a part of some larger design I cannot say, but would love to know.

Here in Manchester it is another wet, wet day. The rain is bouncing down and the skies are grey. We have had one or two golden, sunny days this week but otherwise this has been our weather for quite some time now. It is not good for the spirits, but other things are: I have been making - and eating - the famous chilli jam that everyone's been talking about, enjoying the first fires of autumn and ordering - and impatiently waiting for - this beautiful book that was reviewed in the Guardian at the weekend. I'm looking forward to enjoying all three this coming weekend.

the evolution of fish

2010-09-16T18:03:00.003+01:00

Today a strange hedgehog-fish creature has been going round and round in my washing machine, testing to see how various felted wools bond together and what sort of shapes can be achieved. In the grand Darwinian scheme of things my little hogfish is still rather unevolved, but while he was spinning I was making sketches, and so tomorrow he may take a step forwards... we shall see.

These delightful handcoloured engravings are from a rather strange and wonderful nature book that we have at work. I thought you might like to see.

an interesting life

2010-09-13T17:57:00.002+01:00

"If you make happiness your goal, then you're not going to get to it. The goal should be an interesting life."

So says Dorothy Rowe in a recent Guardian article, and I think she is right. I know that when I start aiming for happiness, I flounder and begin to resent intrusions. When I search out things that I find interesting, or simply wait for them to appear, then I begin to expand and possibilities open up like a fan.

'I will have an interesting day today' allows for endless permutations. I like that.

a windy day is not a day for thatching

2010-09-06T10:11:00.003+01:00

Autumn is blowing in. Today we have gusts of forty miles an hour - I love the sound of the wind whooshing through the tall trees which surround our house - a mixture of wild danger and the comfort of being indoors.

I do love this time of year - but then again, I love every time of year - however, this time of golden change, fruitfulness, laugh-out-loud windiness and the whirligig dancing of leaves seems so full of possibility and excitement. Whether it's the association with the fresh start of a new year at school, or memories of coming to Manchester to start my degree course, or the fact that every house I've moved to has been in the autumn, I don't know. But for me, things begin in September.

northern light

2010-08-26T16:46:00.007+01:00

Last week we spent five beautiful days in Denmark and one in Sweden. Now, I love Britain with all my heart, mind and soul, but Scandinavia constantly, patiently, gently, whispers for my attention. I have felt a deep connection with these northern lands since I first visited thirty years ago, and art, music, design, literature and personal connection continue to keep me in thrall.

The first things that overwhelmed me were the light and the colour. The light is not bright, but it is everywhere, it seems to radiate up from the street and pour from cracks in the pavement. It was raining nearly the whole time we were there, but still there was this soft, beautiful light. It finally dawned on me that it must come from the sea: Denmark is made up of hundreds and hundreds of islands, completely surrounded by sea, and is only ever gently undulating... no hills or valleys to catch or block the light. It is sea-light. And the colours... the colours are the colours of the sea, the sky and the shore... soft grey-blues, dove grey, softest pinky grey, taupe, charcoal, white blonde, ash, and white... so much white... beautiful white, full of every colour of light that exists. So monochromatic that even barely pigmented colour sings, but gently, softly, liltingly. I was in a personal heaven.

The next thing that took hold of me and pulled me inside out and back-to-front and practically left me breathless with longing and wonder was the innate sense of style that permeates from every door, window, garden, shop front and item of clothing. I felt like I had come ashore in a dream, stepped into a favourite magazine or fallen into the pages of a beloved book. It felt like me.

Personal style and interior decoration are the same in Scandinavia: natural, neutral, simple and soft, a mixture of beauty, comfort and practicality. All those lovely, muted, understated colours, exquisite attention to detail, respect for old buildings, warmth, light and a sense of calm. Simplicity. A sense of balance. No clutter, no chaos. And light.

Windows to exclaim over as you explore the pretty little streets: bowls of orchids, tiny succulents, my favourite houseplant known in Denmark as 'spots-in-the-air', little displays of collected treasures. Front doors which nearly always have welcoming green plants climbing up custom-built cast-iron supports. Elegance and simplicity.

Gardens, whether large or small, public or private, that have a real, tangible, sense of place. Open space with simple stone and evergreens. Nothing contrived or fussy. Sedums and succulents in carefully placed pots. And always somewhere to sit: everybody stays outdoors for as long as they can in the summer. Absolutely everyone has a very large square umbrella or awning so that they can still sit out if it's raining.

Loveliness and comfort in fresh, clear, wholesome things: dill, clear glass, aquavit, white, linen, lit candles, the sea, ryebread. Everything seemed to be done well, to somehow embody peace and purity, from the pouring of a glass of beer to elegant town planning and appreciation for historic buildings, to a properly integrated, modern transport system that runs to time.

Oh, and the sea. Did I mention the sea?

This last photo was taken at possibly one of the most breathtakingly lovely art galleries I have ever been to, the Louisiana Museum of Modern Art just south of where we were staying in Helsingør. I spent nearly the whole time here in deep, happy tears, an almost spiritual experience of connection to the sea and the intensity of art, watching the misty grey-blue sea lapping at the shoreline as an Alexander Calder mobile sculpture flipped back and forwards in the breeze of an offshore storm.

Does all this make me sound a bit dippy? Because, it's probably time to own up that actually, I am.

a visit from the airy fairies

2010-08-21T18:19:00.003+01:00

I have some very exciting news - I have become a cupcake tester! I feel I have been working up to this position most of my life and am exceptionally well qualified for the post, having sampled many thousands of cakes and cupcakes over the years.

Imagine my excitement this morning when there was a knock at the door and a gorgeous box of four beautiful cupcakes was delivered by one of the Airy Fairies herself!

Aren't they pretty?

I feel I have found my vocation in life.

blackberry jam

2010-08-19T17:39:00.002+01:00

Home from Denmark and the first job is to get outside with the colander and the litter grabbing stick to pick three pounds of fat juicy blackberries from next door's hedge (next door is flats which are half-empty so I count it an extension of our 'estate'...) As you all know I love to forage for freebies in our neighbourhood and these are a full week earlier than last year which is a nice treat. There look to be plenty more to come, too.

This is my go-to book for jams and pickles of all kinds. It was published in 1944 so is full of brilliant austerity recipes for things like marrow jam.

Unfortunately no credit is given to the artist of the delightful little illustrations, which is a shame. They are gorgeous. Here's a lovely jammy lady with a pinny to die for.

Alice Crang herself, mind you, is a different kettle of fish... (if any were available, she'd probably have it pickled and shoved firmly in a screw-top jar before you could wink) ... I wish I could claim to have looked this efficient during my jamming session, but in all honesty I think I prefer Mrs Pinny as a kitchen role model, anyway.

Come back soon to see some lovely photos of Denmark - the land of good taste. Just as soon as I've cropped and twiddled and uploaded...

prettified

2010-08-09T14:55:00.002+01:00

Here are the facecloths finished and packaged up with an embroidered linen heart ready for their trip to Denmark. I do enjoy making things pretty, which is something I have come to appreciate more as I get older. When I was younger I was all punky and hard edged, with a black workman's donkey jacket, thick black eyeliner that famously got a mention in my German report ("Susan might have a better chance at succeeding with her German lessons if she spent less time beforehand applying eyeliner"), and everything else in life to match. Things have changed a bit now and I am rather glad.

a little update

2010-08-06T22:25:00.002+01:00

Recently a lot of my creative activity has been under the water and unseen, like the paddling of a swan. All I have to show at the moment is more crochet... this time some organic cotton facecloths which are to be a gift for a friend we're visiting next week in Denmark. This seems to be a very crochet-orientated space just now... hopefully there will be something different to show soon. I'm working on ideas and designs for some Christmas craft fairs, doing some journal writing and keeping up with my Listography most days. Life is too intense and demanding for anything else at the moment, but I have some exhibitions and galleries lined up as well as next week's little trip to Copenhagen, which I am looking forward to immensely. Denmark is such a peaceful, creative place and everything is lovely colours.

the spaces in between

2010-07-27T20:10:00.003+01:00

One of the things I've enjoyed about some of the granny square projects I've made over the last couple of years is the simple, almost hidden patterns that the little corner spaces make as they gently criss-cross the blanket. For a long time now I've wanted to devise a block pattern that would replicate this design but without the distraction of using several different colours.

Today I found myself with a little time and spent a happy few hours playing with some spare yarn, seeing what I could do. It took me a while to work out how to do 'join-as-you-go' without chain spaces, but I did it, and I'm really pleased with the result. If you screw up your eyes and squint you can see the diagonal pattern created by the corner holes beginning to emerge. My plan is to make a lovely soft, big blanket in a cotton mix yarn, but I can't decide whether to do it in a soft duck-egg blue or plain and simple white... a lovely decision to make.

peace and freedom

2010-07-23T20:13:00.002+01:00

Today I took the whole day off work as a holiday and cleaned the house from top to bottom. It is so soothing to the soul to have everything gleaming and fresh. It has done me no end of good and I feel like I can breathe again.

As you can see from the photo, nobody escaped my attentions... I think they quite enjoyed it actually... they had a nice long soak and then lots of fun swinging from their ears outside in the sunshine.

Earlier in the week I went to Liverpool to see two exhibitions. Picasso: Peace and Freedom at the Tate, and The Rise of Women Artists at the Walker Art Gallery.

I'm always a little bit surprised to discover that whenever I go to an art exhibition, whether it's big or small, whether the subject matter draws me initially or not, I almost always find some wonderful thing that opens up a string of possibilities in my head and has me fumbling for my little notebook. I just love this. It is so exciting and I suddenly become full of energy and wonder that life is so incredibly interesting. I think this is partly because any exhibition of an artist's work inevitably contains a kind of stored-up energy, a bit like a seed or bulb: these are works that have been conceived and gestated and brought to birth over a long period of time, the results of hours and hours of drawing and thinking and inspiration and experimenting, and then suddenly you see them, all together, and this energy kind of bursts out and grabs you.

It's good to recognise what you need and to be able to do it, whether it's a clean and tidy space or a shot of creative energy.

hiding

2010-07-19T10:36:00.003+01:00

We came across this lovely shed while garden visiting in Cheshire the other weekend. It seems an appropriate image for today's post, as recently I have been doing nothing more taxing than pottering around, tending to domestic duties and keeping a very low profile. The sort of thing men are supposed to need a shed for, but I can do it perfectly well by mooching around, drinking tea in the garden and hiding underneath a pile of crochet.

There is no doubt that a certain sort of mildly creative activity is useful during these times, a bit like the basket-woven tray edging they used to make in the old people's home I once helped in. A little gentle occupation is wonderful for freeing the mind and processing thoughts, and sometimes it's just what's needed. Crochet definitely works for me, and I have also been getting a lot of pleasure from experimenting with things to make for craft fairs this autumn/winter.

One of the things I've been thinking about is how difficult it seems to be these days to concentrate on what I call worthwhile things. By this I mean: drawing, that is, proper observational drawing... reading a book all the way through rather than just snippets from a magazine or the internet... critical, intellectual thinking that really examines and challenges... planning and executing outings and visits that will stimulate and energise me. All these things used to be part of my daily life. All of them have faded and fizzled out to a point where I look in horror at myself and wonder what on earth has happened...

Does this happen to you? What do you do about it? Do you think that the internet has shrunk our ability to concentrate for long periods? Can you mentally escape the dreariness that domestic chores can bring? I sense that some kind of discipline is needed, but I'm not sure how.

norfolk

2010-07-08T19:00:00.006+01:00

With Norfolk in the news today I realised it was about time I got round to posting some of my photos from our trip there last month.

Wouldn't you just love a woodpile like this?

Norfolk is a big, big county and nearly all of it is absolutely lovely, but the north west coast - sometimes called the Saltmarsh Coast - is the loveliest part of all. One of the reasons for this is that it's miles and miles from anywhere, and it always takes us a good half-day to get there - very bad news for the impatient holidaymaker.

Blakeney village is full of quirky things like this funny old door knocker

Once you're there, though, you might never want to leave, and this is always what happens to me. I spend a good part of the holiday feverishly plotting how we could move there and live forever in such a peaceful, beautiful place... until I work out that a) there's no work, b) living somewhere is never the same as being on holiday and c) all my family would be hundreds of miles away. This very same thought process occurs every single time we go. Doh! You would think I'd learn.

Ancient painted wood screens in the beautiful, lonely church at Salle which sits all by itself in the middle of fields and is almost big enough to be a cathedral

Anyway, it's always lovely and we always have a wonderful, reviving time. There are six main things to do in Norfolk: 1) Walk slowly looking at things 2) Cycle slowly looking at things 3) Watch birds 4) Eat delicious local food 5) Mooch about 6) Absolutely nothing. As we like to pack in as many activities as possible, we generally make the effort to fit in almost all of these every day and thus get the maximum benefit from our visit. We are no slouches.

One of the places we enjoyed eating and drinking was Wiveton Farm Cafe which is in an utterly beautiful setting on the edge of the marshes and surrounded by gently rolling woodland. You can watch marsh harriers hunting and eat freshly picked strawberries from Emma Bridgewater pottery. It was only about ten minutes walk from where we stayed.

On our last day, we pushed the boat out and went to visit the very lovely and delightful Voewood House, a gorgeous Arts and Crafts house near Holt which is owned by the bookseller Simon Finch and has been decorated by his friend Annabel Grey.

It's made entirely from local stone, brick and concrete - one of the first houses to be built from concrete in this country.

Annabel Grey did these lovely mosaics in one of the bathrooms.

As well as being beautifully restored architecturally, it is a brilliantly quirky interior packed full of original artwork, unusual artefacts and little displays of books and ornaments.

The garden is beautiful as well.

foraging

2010-07-04T21:46:00.002+01:00

I think I have mentioned before that the neighbourhood where we live is rather good for a spot of hunter gathering. Many of the large Victorian houses are either empty, being done up, semi-derelict or rented to students who aren't bothered who is scavenging in their gardens. This makes it sound a bit of a dive, but it isn't, and in fact I really rather like both the romantic, slightly forgotten vibe and the freedom to roam about helping myself to firewood, blackberries, catkin twigs, Christmas greenery, and, today, a whole wheelbarrow full of fircones. I spotted these beauties on my way home today and after tea we set off to collect as many as we could carry home... we'll dry them out and store them to use for kindling this autumn... the pine oil makes them great for starting fires quickly and aromatically, not to mention how pretty they'll look by the hearth.

sea and shore blanket

2010-06-29T12:10:00.005+01:00

This blanket definitely wants to live in north west Norfolk. This is my sea, sky and shore blanket, rows and rows of colours to conjure up dreams of blue salty seas with white horses riding the waves, wide open saltmarshes, wild scudding clouds, wet shingle beaches, bitter chocolate seaweed and pale opal shells.

I began it in February to 'use up' some of the yarn from recent projects... one thing somehow led to another and I must admit to buying quite a bit more wool along the way... but I'm delighted with the end result. Crocheting in rows rather than blocks means that the finished blanket has a much drapier feel than granny squares, and the openness of treble crochet stitches mean it's not too heavy while still being comforting and warm. I love it.

Now then, no crochet addict worth her salt would finish one project without having the next one busy in her head, so here's a work-in-progress pic of what I'm doing next:

This time, it truly is an odds-and-ends project... I have set myself the challenge of buying NO NEW BALLS OF WOOL... so it's a lovely mishmash of blues, greens and browny colours left over from everything else. The small size of these squares (about 2 1/2") means that only about 5g of yarn is needed for each one, so even the tiniest scraps can be used. They're also really speedy to make... each one can be finished, attached to its neighbour and the ends woven in, in less than ten minutes. This is absolutely ideal for me, the most easily bored crocheter in town.

Each square is made up of groups of treble clusters, joined using Lucy's cunning technique, which results in a lovely thick and cosy textile... ideal for chilly car journeys (we have a forty-year-old car) or sitting outside with a cup of tea on a winter's day.

The back looks a bit Sophie Digard, don't you think?

for elizabeth

2010-06-25T22:02:00.003+01:00

A little while ago, Elizabeth wrote a sensitive, questioning post about the nature of blogging. She asks the things that we have all probably wondered at one time or another: are our ramblings relevant? Read by anyone? Of interest unless we specialise on one subject or another?

Her post generated some interesting and thoughtful comments, most of which conveyed quite strongly that the answer to all these questions is a definite yes, and that personality, individual spirit and sense of place are the things that draw us into a blog and keep us following.

As I was considering all this, I found myself at work one day, cataloguing a book written and illustrated by a Chinese artist in the 1930s. In the introduction, he questions the value of his perspective and writes these words:

"But life is too short and precious for us to pass through it without leaving a few footprints behind us. A man's experience in a certain place at a certain time must be unique, in some way different from the experience of others. Why should I not leave a few words to mark one period in my brief life? Even a bird's clawprints remain for a little time in the snow."

From The Silent Traveller in Oxford by Chiang Yee

His thoughts certainly seemed to sum up how I feel about this blog. Maybe they will encourage some of you to continue with your own.

There will be more posts to come in the next few days as I process my photographs from Norfolk and share some crochet projects with you. I have been having lots of thoughts, but the weather has been just too lovely to sit inside sharing them with the computer...

cakes and ale

2010-06-10T16:01:00.002+01:00

Towards the seedier end of Manchester there used to be a wonderfully named pub called the Land O'Cakes, a concept, I'm sure you'll agree, which merits quite a lot of extremely pleasurable thought. Just recently I have begun to feel like I might have been transported, if not to this actual place, then at least to a neighbouring territory, as I embark on this week's task of producing enough cake for 250 people (for my friend Anne's garden open day: see last year's entry for more details). Last week was all about my youngest son's 18th birthday party, for which more cake had to be produced, along with a LOT of beer... much as I love both cakes and beer, I am beginning to feel that I may have had enough of both for a little while.

The photo above has nothing to do with cakes or ale, but is a very pretty tombstone from Plemstall village chuch near Chester. The photo below, however, is very much about cake... it's a detail from The Elephant and the Bad Baby by Elfrida Vipont and illustrated by Raymond Briggs. You can just see the elephant's trunk as he steals 'a bun for himself and a bun for the bad baby'. I loved reading this book to my children when they were little, and now I'm enjoying reading it to my little granddaughter too.

We're off to lovely Norfolk next week for a break from cakes and children... I will return, relaxed, with photos to show you.

moments of stillness

2010-05-31T21:13:00.004+01:00

In moments of stillness ... we find opportunities for reflection, random association and creativity.

So says Alan Hall in this article about this radio programme. In it, he speculates that 'with the encroachment of digital technology into every private corner of our lives comes an erosion of a precious capacity to step aside from the hurly burly'. I think he is right.

The programme is about the need to daydream, to allow our minds to go nowhere, in peace and privacy, for no particular reason. In it, Canon Lucy Winkett asserts that 'silence is absolutely vital to the flourishing of human sensibility, to the flourishing of ourselves as people'.

I so totally agree with this. I have an insatiable need for silence, and very rarely turn on the TV or radio, or play music around the house (although I think I should so so more often - I definitely find that good music is a powerful energiser, stimulating me to engage with my creativity and the outside world). For me there is nothing more healing than sitting outside in the cool green garden listening to only the sounds of the birds and the trees. It is where I do my daydreaming and it is a daily necessity.

Today by pure chance I found myself totally alone in the house and garden... a rare treat these days... it felt like a gift.

a good read

2010-05-20T10:25:00.004+01:00

From Candy and the Golden Eagle by Gwyneth Mamlok, London: Nelson, 1965

I have been fascinated by the Lost Man Booker Prize of 1970 since reading about it a few weeks ago on the Gentle Author's blog. The winner was announced yesterday as J.G. Farrell, whose work I'm ashamed to say I don't know, but when I had a look at the longlist I recognised so many of the authors' names I felt a sudden inclination to read - in a leisurely fashion - through the list myself.

Despite being an avid reader from about the time this list was published, my tastes did not at that stage extend much beyond the adventures of Candy and Peppermint (see above), so many if not most of the titles have passed me by. However, several of the authors later became great favourites - Mary Renault, H.E. Bates, Nina Bawden, Susan Hill, and recently, Ruth Rendell - that I felt a curious mixture of nostalgia and expectation when I read through the list of names, and a great desire to immerse myself in the literary culture of a time which seems to me synonymous with a great intellectual and social freedom, and yet still in touch with a golden age that I remember with misty affection.

In the spirit of my reading practises as a child, I have set myself the challenge of acquiring all these titles either from the public library or secondhand, even though many of them will probably be reissued in desirable and glamorous new editions. If there is one thing I remember about 1970, it was a much greater thriftiness and lack of waste - something I could certainly do with reviving...

The Lost Booker Prize of 1970 longlist:

Brian Aldiss, The Hand Reared Boy
HE Bates, A Little Of What You Fancy?
Nina Bawden, The Birds On The Trees
Melvyn Bragg, A Place In England
Christy Brown, Down All The Days
Len Deighton, Bomber
JG Farrell, Troubles
Elaine Feinstein, The Circle
Shirley Hazzard, The Bay Of Noon
Reginald Hill, A Clubbable Woman
Susan Hill, I'm The King Of The Castle
Francis King, A Domestic Animal
Margaret Laurence, The Fire Dwellers
David Lodge, Out Of The Shelter
Iris Murdoch, A Fairly Honourable Defeat
Shiva Naipaul, Fireflies
Patrick O'Brian, Master and Commander
Joe Orton, Head To Toe
Mary Renault, Fire From Heaven
Ruth Rendell, A Guilty Thing Surprised
Muriel Spark, The Driver's Seat
Patrick White, The Vivisector

the importance of tea

2010-05-16T13:10:00.011+01:00

How to be happy when you are miserable. Plant Japanese poppies with cornflowers and mignonette, and bed out the petunias among the sweet peas so that they shall scent each other. See the sweet peas coming up. Drink very good tea out of a thin Worcester cup of a colour between apricot and pink...

Rumer Godden

Once again our early summer weather has regressed to early spring and we are shivering by the fire while chilly wet winds buffet the house and garden. This is the fourth year running that this has happened, but I am hopeful that this time it will be shortlived and we will not suffer yet another cold and rainy summer, but instead the sun will come out and warm our bones again.

I have kept my promise to myself to spend more time in the garden, and it is looking lush and green and beautiful. May is its best time, with lilac, cherry, hawthorn and viburnum blossom, ferns uncurling from the leafy soil and scented bluebells scattered all over our wooded patch. I have spent lots of time weeding and prettifying and planting lovely new things, but the wonder for me is always in the rustle of the trees, the dappled shade on the ivy, the quiet semi-wild corners. I agree utterly with Monty Don's wife Sarah who is supposed to have said that the most beautiful garden in the world is an English hedgerow.

Having said that, we did make some time to visit one of my favourite gardens last weekend, Gresgarth Hall in lovely lovely Lancashire, and I have speckled this post with some of the photos I took. There is always a wonderful plant sale of unusual hardy perennials, and proper afternoon tea and cakes served by church ladies in the mill yard.

Proper tea and gardens: as Rumer Godden knew, these are the truly sustaining things. As you will see if you have a look at my listography, tea features a LOT. Although I haven't had a lot of time or energy for blogging recently, I have mostly been keeping up with my daily lists, which has been a very positive and life-affirming exercise as well as being extremely healing, eye-opening and instructive.

Family life remains full and busy, but in my quiet moments I am dreaming of unbleached linen, red thread, cross stitch, symbols, shapes and meaningful empty space. Hopefully it won't be long before I can show you.

handwriting

2010-04-21T07:00:00.002+01:00

Click on the image to see what's going on today... and click here to see who else is playing...

i'm in the garden

2010-04-20T10:15:00.002+01:00

First of all, don't click on the image to make it bigger. It's all pixellated and weird and I don't know why, but I didn't have another one ready and I think it looks alright small, so leave it be, ok?!!

It's been an interesting few days for me and I've been thinking hard about things as usual. Another bout of illness helped with this as it meant I couldn't do much else other than sit up in bed... things have also been rather quiet as Rory is stuck in Dubai waiting for the ash cloud to blow away.

I have come to several interconnected decisions...

I will spend more time in the garden, because it's lovely, and if I don't get out there and look after it, it won't be lovely anymore.

I will stop moaning about not having any time to do art and get on with making something beautiful out of what life throws at me. I am needed to be a big part of my granddaughter's life, and whether I like this responsibility or not, it is mine. There is so much about it which is delightful and wonderful and I am in danger of missing that side of it if I am not careful (for which read, if I carry on moaning all the time).

I will close my shop for the time being and concentrate on making for pleasure if time allows.

I will take more exercise now that spring is here, it always makes me feel better and I have no excuses.

And so I'm off into the windy, sunny garden to dig up some weeds. Have a happy Tuesday.

cross pollination

2010-04-12T12:23:00.004+01:00

Elizabeth Bishop: Pansies, 1960, watercolour and gouache.

A recent snoop in our secondhand bookshop brought to light a book of paintings by the American poet Elizabeth Bishop*. I was immediately interested, because I have a great curiosity for artists who write, poets who paint, painters who embroider... the rich exchange of medium and mood experienced by so many artists over the centuries. It's fascinating to find that an artist or writer you know for their work in one discipline turns out to have been active in a quite different area of expression.

Elizabeth Bishop: Table with Candelabra [undated], watercolour and gouache.

Of course, women artists have often done this instinctively through domestic textiles and decoration of the home environment, indeed the home has traditionally been the sole provider of surfaces for embellishment and opportunities for creative expression for those many many women who have been denied a more focussed outlet. However noble or humble the setting, I just love how creativity oozes out of artists and writers like mud through the fingers: it's unstoppable. Vanessa Bell's work at Charleston Farmhouse is a wonderful example.

Mary Fedden: The Lemon, 1976, pencil and gouache.

I learnt from a book about one of my favourite painters, Mary Fedden*, that she also makes what she calls 'little soft lions' for new babies... exquisite embroidery and wonderful tactile shapes that call out to be held tightly in tiny hands. I shall post a couple of snaps of them taken from the book although of course they are copyright, but I think they deserve to be better known and I think many of you will love them, as I do.

* William Benton, Exchanging Hats: Elizabeth Bishop Paintings. Carcanet, 1996
* Christopher Andrae, Mary Fedden: Enigmas and Variations. Lund Humphries, 2007

All images are copyright of the artists and mustn't be reproduced except, as here, for personal use, and without due credit.

the anxiety of responsibility

2010-04-06T18:32:00.003+01:00

The beautiful stained glass windows at Blackburn cathedral by John Hayward... I can't stop looking at the textures and colours. Find out more about the artist here.

I have been struggling to force my thoughts out onto the screen. Physical tiredness, emotional exhaustion, mental lethargy... all the things I thought had gone for a while are here again.

My thoughts are flitting around everywhere and it is hard to catch them and make something coherent of them that you might want to read, but this bittiness does reflect my state of mind and so if nothing else it is honest. I have been meaning to write for a while now.

It frustrates me that I am unable to share more thoughts about creativity on these pages other than so often to express the barrenness I feel. Soon after I wrote the previous post, the ground beneath me started to shake and slip again and my mood of peaceful optimism evaporated, leaving me instead with the old familiar feeling of anxious worry...

Each time I think I am nearer to a peaceful wholeness, a time when creativity may flow, it seems that life requires me to focus closely on something else. I am evidently needed to be intensely active as a mother, grandmother, mentor and guide at the moment, despite feeling hugely unqualified and quite at sea about it all.

This need to be so totally available for my family strips me of creative energy like a sharp frost decimates new growth in the garden. It is so frustrating but I must focus very hard on what I'm needed to do and, indeed, trying to convince myself that I can do.

Thank you so much to all of you who so kindly left comments on my last post... I am sorry that I haven't had the time and energy to reply to you all personally but be assured that they have been read and re-read and are very much appreciated.

consolidation

2010-03-30T13:53:00.003+01:00

Thankfully, thankfully, things have quietened down a little in my life just now. Illness has subsided, sleep is usually possible, I have more time to myself, I am feeling brighter and have more energy at last. Who is to say how long this may last, but I am very, very grateful for this time to breathe.

I am enjoying finding the time to keep a clean and tidy house, to plan and make nutritious food for us all, to exercise and stretch and get strong again, to improve my posture and my back problems, to read a little more, to get out in the sunshine and think about pruning and maybe growing some beans. My granddaughter is becoming a little easier and more fun and there is more of a dialogue between us, with the promise of more to come. There are birthdays and visits and other nice things to look forward to.

So, nothing major is getting done, no great works, no daily programmes of activity have begun, there is no particularly creative buzzing going on. This will come I think. I will always need to create and eventually there will be more time to devote to this. Meanwhile, there is always crochet.

My latest project is a stripey blanket worked in aran weight yarn. It was supposed to be a way of using up old half-balls and oddments, but along the way a 'few' more balls have found their way into my wool basket and into the blanket. I chose the colours to remind me of the sea and of the shore... sand, water, wood, rock, seaweeds, shells, shimmering light on the wings of birds. I love the sea and the shore and this is for wrapping up in and dreaming.

It is about halfway through and a lovely thing to do in the evenings... it is still chilly enough for a log fire most nights and there are lots of great things on tv... have you seen Sacred Music and The Wonders of the Solar System? If not, do try to.

she is not dead but sleepeth

2010-03-20T16:35:00.003Z

Despite the recent lack of posts, I'm still here, taking things slowly, recovering from a cold and spending a few days in beautiful Richmond, Yorkshire, where we had the great pleasure of staying at Millgate House with its beautiful garden.

Although it had only just emerged from several weeks of snow, the garden was a delight, and we were lucky enough to stay in the garden apartment which has its own little door onto the terrace.

Everything in the apartment was understated elegance...

It was a very nurturing place of warm fires, old wooden furniture, linen armchairs, worn stone flags and shelves full of books... even the kitchen drawers were lined with more and more and more books.

Unfortunately the cold virus prevented me from doing much other than drink a lot of soothing tea and work my way through the library. But that was fine.

Now we're back in Manchester I'm spending my time getting to grips with my birthday present, spring cleaning, crocheting (a new project... news of that soon), making time to continue my experiments with drawing and embroidery techniques and cooking delicious things to eat. I always feel that spring arrives with my birthday and so I will hear no more of winter. Green things are unfurling and poking their noses skywards, the birds are singing until nearly 7 o'clock and it's getting lighter every day...

in the end is the beginning

2010-03-11T14:10:00.003Z

My hexagon patchwork quilt is finished! A few weeks ago I wrote about the need to finish various projects that had been hanging around for months or years and now another one has been removed from the pile of things to do and set free into household use. It's a lovely feeling... a freedom... a sort of decluttering that somehow unblocks creativity and leads to new things.

I wrote a lot about the quilt once before, so I'll only offer a brief introduction today. If you'd like to hear the story of how it began, over fifteen years ago, and read more about my Granny who inspired it, have a look here.

It's almost certainly the most labour-intensive and time-consuming thing I will ever make... nearly a thousand hand-stitched hexagons and probably a hundred thousand little stitches holding it together.

New and old fabrics including many vintage pieces from family and friends... a pieced binding from the same fabrics... backed with plain white cotton sheeting and cotton batting and then quilted on the machine... otherwise it would never have got finished. Then washed and dried to achieve a lovely, slightly shrunken softness.

It's already much loved and enjoyed... not an heirloom treasure but a proper part of the linen cupboard, a domestic textile to be used and washed and worn and snuggled into.

As a coda to last week's paper giveaway, my mum gave me a huge pile of unwanted art paper today... I love every bit, and it has more than replaced the bundles I gave away. I like how life provides, if we let it, and if we keep things moving round.

winners

2010-03-07T18:45:00.003Z

Just a very quick post this evening to announce that the winners of the paper giveaway are Jill, Gina and Carolyn who have won bundles one two and three in that order. I'm off out in a minute but will hopefully be back tomorrow with a longer post about a recently finished project.

*Jill - please email me with your postal address so that I can send you the papers*

another giveaway

2010-03-03T13:20:00.004Z

I have decided not to buy any more art materials in 2010.

Despite my best intentions I find that I am often quite wasteful with some of the things I buy. Even though I have a relaxed approach to use-by dates, I certainly throw more food away than I would like through bad planning, laziness and unexpected time constraints.

Unfortunately this also extends to art materials which I frequently 'need' in a desperate hurry and then find myself stashing away in the cupboard after a brief experimental session. Since I am trying to streamline my accounts this spring to prepare myself for a change in my income - something I have known would come but is now here - I want to be a better housekeeper in lots of ways, and that includes using things from my art cupboard before I buy more.

This ought to be good news creatively as it means I should be doing some printing, lots of drawing and quite a bit of collage. I am hoping that as well as a much-needed frugality, a welcome abundance will emerge as I try not to hoard stuff but to use it... the loveliest cloth, the best paper, the nicest inks.

At this stage, what this means in practise is that I am getting rid of stuff that I probably won't use, and today this means three bundles of paper which I would like to go to a good home...bundle one is pictured above and bundles two and three below... if you fancy one, leave me a comment letting me know which one catches your eye and I will pick some winners at the weekend. They aren't massive stacks, but certainly enough to have a play with and maybe inspire something new.

Bundle One is mainly neutrals, beiges and blues... some handmade paper, some with bits in, Japanese origami paper, Laura Ashley samples and some Chinese paper with silver on.

Bundle Two is nearly all Chinese and Japanese papers in bright colours, lots of scraps and printed pieces.

Bundle Three is quite a big stack of handmade paper which I made a few years ago... whites, pinks, purples, lots of it with scraps of silk in... all about A5 size.

I'm happy to post them out to wherever you are... hopefully somebody will want them! Otherwise they will get recycled which isn't the end of the world but it would be nice to pass them on.

*Please note this giveaway has now finished*

Rossichka

2010-02-22T12:04:00.004Z

Is the winner of the stationery giveaway! Rossichka's Bulgarian blog is called Out of the Shell and you can find it here.

If you didn't win but would like one of these handmade notepaper sets there are two in the shop today...

Lovely manilla packets with five sheets of upcycled notepaper and five lined envelopes, all tied up with linen thread. And there is free post and packing anywhere in the world. Hope you like them.

handmade stationery giveaway

2010-02-18T18:13:00.007Z

In the evenings this week I've been making myself some stationery, using things I already had in the cupboard... a big box of white envelopes, some beautiful white conqueror paper, brown wrapping paper and a stack of old catalogues with lovely patterns and images too lovely to throw away.

First I went through the catalogues and punched out circles from the best bits in muted colours, a flowery, oriental, decorative feel to them... then I cut the paper to size to fit the envelopes, stuck a pretty circle on the top and backed it with another circle in nice white card. Then I lined the envelopes with my favourite brown paper and sorted them into sets of five.

I have one of these sets to give away to you lovely people and three or four others to put in my shop... leave me a comment if you'd like one and I'll pick a name on Sunday and put the other packs in the shop at the same time in case you're unlucky in the giveaway.

thank you

2010-02-16T13:54:00.003Z

I have been amazed and thankful to so many of you for taking the trouble to contribute to the discussion in the previous post... you have given me a lot of encouragement and many things to continue thinking about... lots of buttons in the pot. Thank you.

Here's what our mantlepiece looks like today... a mix of love and winter... snowflakes that have been hanging since Christmas and a significant number of deep red velvety roses...

It will look bare when everything is taken down again, won't it?

real

2010-02-11T15:14:00.003Z

The other day my friend Anne said 'anyone reading your blog who didn't know you would think your life was beautiful and perfect in every way'.

This has troubled me a lot. It has made me ask lots of questions, and not very many of them have found answers.

Why does this bother me? Why does it matter what you, dear reader, think of me? After all, I hardly know you. Most of you, I don't know at all. Yet I don't want to be misrepresented. I don't want you to think I have this perfect life.

But neither do I want to write about the bad times. My bad times are bad, but then so are yours. We all have bad times. I neither crave nor deserve your sympathy for them. Like many of us, part of the reason I blog is to record and remember the good, the inspiring, the beautiful, the lovely. And so, beautiful, lovely and inspiring words and pictures appear here, and represent me to you, and you think, oh, Mouse is lucky, sitting crocheting in her pretty house watching the birds play in the trees outside.

You know of course that this is only a part of the story. But because you are left to guess, you can't see the full picture, and neither would I want you to, because the full picture includes other people whose privacy I respect, and more than that, it includes things I want to forget. We are all instinctively editing, all the time.

But it's dangerous, I think, this narrow view. It can lead to envy and resentment and irrational dislike and poking fun at people. That's not good.

But then again, isn't this just a metaphor for what we do all the time? We offer a part of ourself, almost never the whole, always an edited view. Just going about our daily lives opens ourselves up to misinterpretation. It's a risk we have to take.

So yes, I have ancient apple cores on my desk. I have a horrible mess in the kitchen. I have difficult teenagers and a sleepless granddaughter who lives with us. I am often moody, generally lazy, and I eat too much. But that's enough for now.

february

2010-02-01T11:50:00.002Z

"China tea, the scent of hyacinths, wood fires and bowls of violets - that is my mental picture of an agreeable February afternoon"

Constace Spry, quoted in Simple Abundance by Sarah ban Breathnach, and seconded by me.

things I have liked today

2010-01-28T18:48:00.003Z

I am one of those people who absolutely love lists. Shopping lists, whats-for-dinner lists, things-to-do lists, guest lists... lists of ideas, lists of places to go, lists of music, lists of books. I find it very freeing to liberate all this stuff from my head, it's a bit like pushing back the furniture to make room for dancing. So when I discovered this site I was thrilled beyond imagining... it allows you to make as many lists as you like on whatever subject you like, archive them and post them on your own little listy homepage!

This discovery came at a very good time for me, because I wanted to start making a short daily list of things I've enjoyed. Mostly very simple things... as a reminder, as an inspiration, as a thank you. Just five things each day. Sometimes it's hard to pick out only five, and sometimes, if I'm honest, it's hard to find even one... it's a lovely exercise to do for lots of different reasons... I was surprised to find that as I look back over the entries it reads almost like a diary, I can tell if I was at work or at home and there are so many reminders of what I did, ate, saw, heard.

You can have a look at my page here, and if you do, you will see if you haven't already guessed, that today I have been planting bulbs.

One of my favourite lists is this one by Keri Smith, who is an inspirational list-maker.

1. Life and people are impermanent
2. Slow down
3. Look people in the eye
4. Drink tea
5. Be kind
6. Simple things hold the secret

She also has a wonderful list of a hundred creative ideas for when you can't think of anything to do...

circles blanket

2010-01-26T19:57:00.011Z

Huzzah! It's finished, fifteen months and ninety-nine squares after it was begun, although it did take just a wee bit more yarn than I originally expected...

It was actually finished last week, but the light's been so poor that photography has been impossible - so we've had the chance to road-test it over the weekend and its woolly warmth proved just the thing for a dose of flu.

I have absolutely loved working on this blanket... the yarn is mostly wool or wool mix in aran weight... delightfully warm and thick, soft but not too soft. The pattern was dreamt up while finishing off my first dotty blanket a couple of summers ago... this time I wanted something with a more complex design and the opportunity to play around with the juxtaposition of colour. I was after a vintage, homespun feel with a heavy, workaday quality - the sort of rug or blanket that might be seen spilling out of an old Morris Traveller in a feature on autumn picnics in Country Living...

Circles have always fascinated me... I love the work of Sonia Delaunay and Patrick Heron... the simple repetition of shape and colour in different arrangements, creating different emotional reactions. I wanted this blanket to speak of all this, to be both the sort of blanket you might find in a little slate-roofed cottage in the country and yet to have associations with art and design... the sort of blanket that Barbara Hepworth's baby triplets would play on in her Cornish studio...

I know I am probably mad... how can one blanket be invested with all this meaning and significance?! Maybe crochet alters the mind... am I the only one who does this? I can invent a whole world around a cushion cover, a teapot, a jar of flowers... simple domestic items so easily transport me to a place, a time, a way of life...

It's endlessly absorbing producing the growing pile of squares, each one with a different feel, different combinations of the six colours. Only about four have doubles, although I didn't make any special effort to avoid duplication, it just worked out that way. I enjoy the gentle maths of a project like this, ensuring each colour is used enough times, assembling the final pattern with no matching neighbours, and then there is the thrill of seeing how the background colour draws it all together. There are never more than glimpses, visions or imaginings of the whole during the making process - it doesn't become itself until it is sewn together and is a whole soft cloth, heavy and warm.

The portability of crochet squares means that a blanket like this holds many memories... of home and holidays... New York City in the snow and ice... East Sussex in hot, hot sun... the Wye Valley in autumn... underneath the elm tree in the garden... in front of a roaring fire... 40,000 ft up in the air. All hooked in and captured so that it becomes part of life and living.

If you'd like to make a similar blanket I can do no better than direct you once again to the nimble-fingered Teresa who will show you on YouTube in five minutes what a book would take days to teach.

My blanket is made in a mixture of pure wool and wool blends, with some cashmere, merino, microfibre and acrylic, and in different weights, but mainly aran, a very little chunky and quite a bit of DK worked using two strands together... all using a 7mm hook.

dreaming of spring...

2010-01-23T19:42:00.002Z

There are more than a few signs round our way that spring is just around the corner. Not that I am wishing away winter, because unlike lots of people I do really enjoy this time after Christmas when winter becomes just itself, and not the run-up to the festive season... it has a simple, pared-down quality, when yes, the days are short, but they are also precious and the light can be magically luminous and clear. Evenings are for books and games and crochet by the fire, good things on tv and radio, and meals are warm and nourishing.

Despite this it is both energising and reassuring to know that spring is on its way, the earth is turning and the seasons are following one after the other as they should. And there are signs of this everywhere... the lengthening days which no longer pack up for the night at quarter to four but are still light and bright at half past... the blackbird and the song thrush singing again in the late afternoon... little green shoots emerging from the cold soil... and these lovely delicate primroses nestling underneath the honeysuckle. Foxes are barking in the depth of night, squirrels are chasing one another and birds are looking around for places to nest.

All this makes me happy.

mark making

2010-01-19T15:18:00.002Z

Today and yesterday I have been experimenting with pencils, paints and ink... it has seemed difficult to find the time to do this recently and it has been a delight. However I haven't found it easy to slip back into this way of working... it requires a lot of concentration and the ability to ignore distractions in a way that sewing or embroidery, a slower, ploddier process, does not. To keep the rhythm of ideas going is something I'm no longer used to, it doesn't come easily, but I'm determined to persist and break through whatever barrier it is that prevents the flow.

I've set myself a project of experimental mark-making... just seeing what I can do with a limited range of media and a restrained palette of colour. I'm using only pencil, rubber, ink and gouache in white, black and blue-grey and whatever paper comes to hand. I'm deliberately restricting myself to dealing with line and shape only - circles and simple forms - and seeing what happens, with no particular goal other than the eventual production of a sort of toolkit with which to be more productive and directional in the future. Each 'drawing' is quite brief and direct and this approach has allowed me to amass a big pile of ideas about the quality of line, form and texture.

One thing I had to start training myself to overcome almost immediately was a real, physical panic that welled up as I began to pencil in areas I had drawn... it was a sort of fear of time passing by, of the need to rush, to produce, to achieve quickly... everything seemed to be so slow... it has been really good to keep reminding myself that quality work takes time, that it's ok, just breathe, just keep going...

I feel very positive about this change of direction... I am excited about the possibility of at last producing some paper work that I am pleased with, and with developing my skills both technical and psychological to enable me to move on with this. I hope to be able to post more of my experiments and doodles over the next weeks... come back and see.

snippings

2010-01-11T19:34:00.003Z

Little pieces of trimmings from my ninety-nine crochet squares which I am currently sewing up into a big lovely blanket, more than a year since I started it... hopefully I will be able to show a photograph of it finished and edged very soon.

The 'bittyness' of this picture reflects how my mind feels at the moment too. Unrelated thoughts, ideas, things unfinished, other things needing attention. Hopefully by the end of the week things might start ravelling together for me in this sense too.

I am feeling that the next few weeks will be about finishing projects that have been sitting around for far too long, waiting to be completed and liberated into daily use. Apart from the blanket I have a scarf in lovely Noro yarn to be knitted up, my giant patchwork to be quilted and a new bag to be sewn up and embroidered.

A big thank you for all your contributions to my last post about the spiritual side of creativity. It is so interesting and illuminating to hear other's thoughts on this subject and of course we are all different with different ways of looking at things. I will be re-reading the comments this week and thinking more about this subject.

Wishing you a creative week and if you are in the northern hemisphere, a warm one too.

a spiritual necessity

2010-01-05T19:36:00.002Z

I was stopped in my tracks yesterday by these words from this article on the Canadian artist Francoise Sullivan:

"Animals don't do art like we do. They do something else. A spider web or a nest is not a work of art in the human sense. It is a physical necessity. This is more of a spiritual necessity."

I have been thinking about this a lot... it seemed to speak directly to my questions about the different kinds of art that I make, and perhaps the differences between art and craft...

Making life beautiful seems to me to be a physical necessity, a bit like the nest of a bird: creating a garden... making our home attractive... choosing colours... piecing things together... decorations... domestic textiles... the weaving of a life which is visually rich, calm and stimulating... the common grace of creativity being lived and breathed.

I think a lot of the things I make are also borne of this physical need, and this is good, it will always be, and I am happy with that...

But what I long for deep down, what makes me thirsty inside, is the expression of spiritual necessity... art which isn't for anything but just needs to come out. It's about working on a different plane, maybe a different dimension. I'm beginning to recognise that just like any spirituality it will require a careful discipline, diligent practice and an open dialogue with its source.

It's an exciting thought.

earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone...

2010-01-01T18:03:00.006Z

The first walk of the new year, to Pennington Flash in Lancashire. Everywhere icebound, frosted, still. The sound of the ice creaking and our boots crunching. Hundreds of birds gathered to feed on the open water, waiting for the thaw which will not come tonight. As we drove home the light began to fade and the cold ground seemed to tighten even more.

Thinking about 2010... not knowing what it will bring... having no expectations anymore... deciding to take each moment as it is given, to go slowly and keep things simple, to be good to myself, to be patient, to be thankful.

A more tangible resolution is to read from our collection of countryside books every night, to think about lives lived elsewhere and to learn more about the beauty that surrounds us.

winter holiday

2009-12-27T15:02:00.004Z

As each year ends and a new one begins, I find myself becoming two different people... one busy and bright, the other quiet and still. I have come to regard the dark days around the winter solstice as the turning point of the year rather than the human construct of the first of January, and so once the glittering rush of Christmas is over I am full of the sense of slowly moving forward, of newness and inspiration and the hint of green shoots.

The week before Christmas is like the first movement of a symphony: the major key, the bright notes, the excitement, the great crash and wonder of Christmas Day... and yet hidden away in the music is the quiet song that will come into bloom in the second, slow movement which begins to break through about today... the minor key, the mystery, the stillness, the calm quiet of the winter holidays. Then, the white light of New Year's Eve, the beginning of the third movement, double forte, the resolution of the music and the season, the start of all things new... that time is still to come.

So, the busyness and bustling, the making of mince pies, the mulling of wine, the sweet sentimentality of carols and the rustling of paper and presents is over and the 'other' me is here, sitting by the fire, listening to the snow melting, watching the twinkling shadows of the lights in the green depths of the Christmas tree branches, thinking, dreaming... and reading. Finally getting a chance to catch up with my favourite blogs, the newspaper articles I've saved and the books I've been piling up for later.

There has been so much of interest and inspiration to feast on... I thought I'd share a couple of links that have caught my attention over the last few days.

I discovered the wonderfully well-written blog Spitalfields Life only recently... an illuminating read on any day of the week but especially absorbing over the month of December as we have been treated to the tale of The Death of a Linen Draper, the brilliantly Dickensian true story of a horrible murder which took place in the east end of London nearly two hundred years ago in 1811. It's in ten installments and we are up to number eight today. Do go and read it, it's as good as a novel.

Another place I would urge you to visit is this great post, which I found via the lovely Greenolive. Holly at Decor*8 asked the question "What’s the one thing you’ve read recently that has resonated with you and made you think? Why?" There are nearly 100 responses... every one makes you think, all of them are thoughtful and wise, and many lead to new paths and directions. So many talk of love and loss, creativity and perfectionism, the way that the stillness of winter moves us in different ways... it is well worth reading through them, maybe a few at a time over the holidays. I was particularly struck by this excerpt from a poem by Lynn Unger, which seems to encapsulate the essence of what I try to do each day, and why:

Come down. Try to remember
a life gentled by daily acts
of domestic faith—the pot
set to boil, the bed made up,
the table set in calm expectation
that when the sun sets
we will still be here.

Wintry favourites from Flickr: 1. Untitled, 2. 2009 Ornament Swap - garland in window, 3. Winterzeit und Kerzenschein, 4. Untitled

winter light

2009-12-22T21:45:00.004Z

In the few precious hours of midwinter daylight this week I have managed to find a little time for making, including these papier mache tree decorations for my best friend... a coat of Swedish Blue emulsion with initials and snowflakes in silver dry gouache powder mixed with iridescent medium... chocolates inside and all wrapped up in snowy white tissue paper.

I've also been doing some sewing, making market bags for gifts as well as costumes and accessories for the York Mystery Play we recently took part in.

Taking inspiration from here I spent an evening quietly snipping and folding, and now our front room has a rather 1960s feel, with big round snowflakes descending from the picture rails.

I have always loved to pile the house high with evergreens at Christmas, and as we are lucky enough to live in an area with many flats and student houses that have big mature gardens I have been out doing a little 'community pruning'...

( I locked myself out of the house taking this photo, not for the first time this week... the other two incidents were snow-related...)

I love the gentle, homely preparations for Christmas that run alongside the inevitable busyness... all the quiet, solitary occupations that light up the house and make it magical. Now we are almost ready and the next thing I know it will be Christmas Eve and I'll be getting up early to join the queue outside the butcher to collect our turkey, spending the day making fragrant stock for the gravy, bread sauce and chestnut stuffing, ironing the table linen and peeling sprouts as the rest of the family come and go, the rustling of furtive wrapping-up can be heard behind closed doors and the pile beneath the tree begins to grow. Lots of cups of tea, and carols on the radio.

Have a lovely Christmas.

morning surprise

2009-12-15T10:58:00.002Z

Look what dropped through my door this morning... this gorgeous glazed clay ornament and beautiful card by Susan Schwake. Isn't it just the loveliest? It arrived as part of the ornament swap which I joined last month... lots of little treasures have been plopping onto the mat but this one has really made it for me... thanks Susan! Have a look at her lovely work, it is amazing.

Otherwise things are a bit of a pine-scented blur hereabouts. The tree is up and lots of things are ready, but also lots of things aren't. I have been making a few gifts but have to confess I always get stressed at this time of year and this one is no exception. I have been rather grumpy :-(

Never mind, it will all work out just as it always does, and there is the calm quiet promise of the new year just coming into view on the horizon with its call of new beginnings and resolutions... more art, more drawing, more time to create... yes please.

silver and gold

2009-12-08T20:41:00.005Z

I enjoy making my own Christmas cards and try to make a batch most years, time permitting. This year I decided to make use of my stash of old Country Living magazines and turn some of their gorgeous photography to my advantage.

I spent a happy few hours with my circle cutter, a stick of glue and lots of lovely shiny ribbon... the nice thing about having one of each is being able to choose the card to match the person.

The beautiful papier mache pinecones are from Germany... not from Munich but from the lovely Carola at Boxwood Cottage. I covered them with silver leaf and have a few more still to do before Christmas.

Our Christmas cake this year has taken a departure from the usual icing-covered snow scene: as our family's chief cake-eater is spending the winter in the sunshine of Australia we decided to adopt a less tooth-splittingly sweet decorative approach. It's a little late for cake-making really... I wasn't going to bother, but suddenly got the urge. It's a wonderfully soothing and nurturing process of chopping, soaking, weighing, measuring, stirring and slowly slowly baking that always makes me feel serene and peaceful. The warm, sweet smell that winds its way up the stairs and fills the house is very good for the soul.

Also good for the soul are the incredible sunsets we've been having the last few days. After a short grey day of dampness and biting wind with all the colour leached from the landscape, suddenly the western sky is split with a vanilla light so piercingly bright it makes everything stop for a few precious minutes while you watch it gently and ever so slowly shift and fade away...

impressions of munich

2009-11-26T20:41:00.007Z

I have enjoyed a wonderful weekend in the beautiful city of Munich, which was not at all as I expected and was an absolutely lovely city to visit... gorgeous buildings, elegant squares, delicious food, trams, trains and an underground, museums, galleries, lots and lots of parks, trees and green spaces, refreshing beer, friendly people and terrific warm weather!

I went to meet my old friend Sarie who teaches there... we had a lovely mix of whizzing around seeing interesting places and experiencing the city, and lazing around in her lovely modern apartment near the Englische Garten, drinking wine and tea and catching up with each other's lives.

Mistletoe grew everywhere in the tall birch trees, giving a wintry feel.

All the shops were getting ready for Christmas and there was masses of greenery everywhere.

The Germans love flowers and sell them on every corner.

We bought fresh dates to eat on the tram, and clementines in a little cone of paper.

Munich is a devoutly Catholic city and there are many many madonnas and little saints statues embedded into the walls of buildings and apartments, or high up above the street.

On Sunday all the museums and galleries reduce their entry fee to one euro. We chose to visit the Pinakothek der Moderne, where we visited their exhibition on the history of design as well as getting to see some amazing modern masterpieces including works by the Blaue Reiter group.

Here we are having a well-earned rest on the space-age modern rocking chairs in the design exhibition.

I can't recommend Munich highly enough as a place to visit... next time I have been promised a trip to the mountains which are only an hour or so away. I was hugely impressed by the German way of life, their sense of design and style, civic pride and forward-thinking approach to the environment... and of course their delicious wurst and weissbier...