Another job completed, packed up and off on it's travels and another deadline notched up. Just one more big one to go and life might resume an even keel. In order to get the work done, I've had to turn into a virtual hermit, but things are getting a little easier (she prayed, with her fingers tightly crossed) and I've even managed to update my antique blog template so I can be like all the other kids at school with *followers* and things. Marvellous.I have many forthcoming thank yous to say to certain lovely people who have sustained me with gifts over the last few months, but this is a special thank you to my friend Janet of The Empty Nest, who caused a bit of a stir in our superb little Delicatessen (one of the few 'real' shops in the village), or rather, the box she ordered for me did. I was shuffling about at the back of a loose queue of well dressed, sharp faced *ladies*, who were ordering all manner of gorgeous things, feeling rather out of place in my scruffy combats, waiting to buy a little pork pie to take with me to a cricket match. When it was finally my turn, I asked for my pie, only to be handed this amazing box of delights -There, in the middle, nestling like a good child at Sunday School, is one of my beloved local Cerney Pyramids, prince of cheeses and a rare treat. Also Barkham Blue, Cotswold ham, and my pork pie, made across the border by the Cotswold pudding Company in Gloucestershire as well as one of their famous puddings . And for good luck, Chris the kind deli owner popped in a box of Willy's World Class Cacao, which might be familiar to those in the who saw the TV series. I literally gulped for air as Chris explained who had sent it and staggered out of the shop with the *ladies* watching me. And although I had to take some work to the cricket match... ...it was made more luxurious with an impromptu little picnic and some Selvedge and Country Living magazines. Thank you so much Janet for making me feel very special at a time when I needed it most.
(I am in the process of updating my previous links, so don't worry if you've been there and now aren't (most of you) will be again!)
I opened up the polytunnel on a cold, grey afternoon and heard a dull buzzing. There, twitching feebly in the soil, was a tired bumble bee. She probably wore herself out trying to find an exit and the chilly, overcast weather can't have helped much. I remembered something I'd heard about sugar syrup, so I gently coaxed her onto my hand and took her inside. I placed her on a saucer and quickly mixed up some cold water and caster sugar, making a liquid syrup she could drink and dolloped it on her plate. She was so dopey and weak I had to carefully steer her to the puddles, but once she realised what it was, she began drinking. As her feet were slipping I popped a leaf under her. After about five minutes she seemed to have drunk her fill and was anxiously crawling about, already a little stronger. I took her back into the garden and settled her on a pot where she collected her wits, had a little wash and eventually - well, see for yourselves! (There is some lovely birdsong in the background too).
Bees are having a dreadful time of it, with the combined efforts of mankind and diseases; although we can't keep a hive, I am going to make more of an effort to look after the weary ones, especially now I know how easy - and effective - it is. When the bees die out, we are not far behind.
edit - many thanks to Jill of Third Age Musings, for letting me know that this was a Red-tailed Bumblebee, Bombus Lapidarius and I now wonder if she was a Queen, emerging from hibernation?
...to rest for a very long time - no chance of that happening. I've not got the time (or much energy) for anything except this job but I miss my blogs and I miss my internet friends, who I hope will forgive me for not being *around* much.
Another week of getting my head down and getting on with things - this seems like a long time ago now, but it was only last Sunday that I was taxie'd off to Witney at an unholy hour, to set up stall at the Teddy Bears of Witney 25th birthday party. The team had been setting up the previous day and there were bears and bear-o-memorabilia stacked high. My little stall was tucked away in a corner, where I could have my back to the wall. I had a couple of hours to sort myself out. The last three of my animals which were brought by the shop last year were waiting to go on display. Nice to see them again.
I set to work and soon had it feeling more like home. I rigged up an old notice board with a few sketches, and various gubbins pinned to it, including a rare photo of me when I was four, with some of my old toys. Me looking rather scruffy in my hand me downs and hair cut by dad. I still have a few of these old timers and they came with me to have a special day out. My precious teddy, Pooh (falling apart now and moth eaten) and little Rupert bear, a bit battle worn and missing an eye. Maisie, who looks a fright but has always been beautiful to me. They sat in the corner, looking after me as they always have done. My new card rack - I've never seen all my cards together like this and was so pleased at how well they looked. I didn't have any felt animals for sale but I do have a few 'keepers' to show. I'd also spent a whole day archiving about 150 photo prints which I was still assembling when the doors opened and 400 invited guests streamed into the hall intent on bear buying and bear cuddling. Also out for display, my Moleskine sketchbook, free cards, some merino samples and my felting gear. The red Japanese bondage rope I found on eBay was just the thing, and I pegged photos to it with rather gaudy plastic pegs which were all I could find at the last minute. It looked a bit like a village fete stall, but it would do. After that the day went by in a blur - several people came over specially to say hello as they had either bought my animals from the last catalogue, or my cards from the shop. It was a bit odd to be greeted by people who already knew of me, but I had never met - I spend 90% of my life in my studio, yet the popularity of the Teddy Bear catalogue has brought me and my work into homes around the world.
They enjoyed looking through my sketchbook and photos, they bought cards and were kind about my artworks. When I started demonstrating I drew quite a crowd of onlookers. I started work on one of the limited editions which will be in the 2010 catalogue. People were intrigued; needle felting is still a little known craft in the UK and I hope I encouraged a few more to try their hand at it. For several hours I talked and explained until I was losing my voice and was supplied with cups of tea all afternoon. I met some wonderful, lovely people, including a lady who, after admiring my work, asked me if I'd thought of joining the British Toymakers Guild. I replied that I had, but hadn't got round to it and was a bit worried about the selection process. (You have to send in examples of work to be admitted). I almost choked when she reassured me, saying that she was the Chairman of the Guild and was certain I'd get in. So that's next on my list of *to-do's*. As well as learning to drive, so that I can get to the shows!
My first stall - a bit of a jumble sale, completely exhausting and so many nice people. All in all a day to remember.
In the fiendish way that these things happen, my deadlines all seem to have conspired to meet at more or less the same time. To finish the most urgent (handed in by 1st week of April) I had to eat into time I needed for the next one (second week of April) before I could even think about the third one (beginning of June). So, 40 design artworks painted up, scanned and posted off, and a quick studio tidy up before straight on to the next job. This is what half a year's work on a design job looks like- excluding the artworks. A big pile of A3 sheets consisting of brainstorming, first amendments, second amendments and (God help me) third amendments. And in a few cases, fourth amendments. And then 40 of the blighters to draw up and colour. I have re-discovered three things;
1) Most people have no idea that illustration can be a full time job as much as any *normal* job and at times it is more than that. Sometimes you have to sacrifice the nice things in life like little walks, pottering in the garden, blogging, reading - and days off are out of the question. But I have given up explaining this, as no-one seems to believe it.
2) Similarly they don't understand that often one really does have to be creative *on demand* instead of waiting for the inspiration fairy to visit. This is what sorts out the men from the boys. As it were.
3) You can't please all of the people all of the time. This is a fact. Added into this mixture was the dull dawning that last year I promised to take part in the 25th birthday celebrations of the lovely shop 'Teddy Bears of Witney', - and it is soon! They asked me if I would do an all day needle felting demonstration with a stall. Friends, I have never rigged up a stall in my life. I shoved it to the back of my mind until the other week when I finally put my mind to it. So I sacrificed some work time to source - a card display unit, mini-clothes pegs, photo corner mounts and oddest of all, red Japanese bondage rope. Which is apparently exactly what it says it is.
Who knew? It is rather lovely and just what I need to peg photos of my animals on. Finally, gorgeous Moo mini-cards to hand out to potential customers.
I've been meaning to give them a whirl and I am so very pleased with them. The sturdy little box is just right for stashing buttons and beads in, when it is empty.
I'm rather looking forward to Sunday - the shop is kindly paying for a taxi each way, so I travel in style and there will be 250+ handpicked teddy bear enthusiasts there to entertain. I only wish I had some spare needle felt stock to offer, but I will have artworks and cards on sale; some funds for more Moo cards would be nice. (The New Best News is that I have deadline extensions, which is relief beyond my wildest dreams).
In the middle of deadline Hell and hurtling towards them at a frightening velocity, this is short and sweet - what, no long naval gazing ramblings with a gazillion photos? No.
Cathy asked to see some drawings, but for the last half year nearly all my drawing has been filling sketchbooks with roughs and prep for my three jobs and so can't be shown etc etc. But sometimes, when I am falling asleep and doing my diary, I do a bit of impromptu scribbling, in the back, to save for a later day. Although one was told *never* to use a biro for sketching, I like them and if it's all there is in your hand, then use it. Usually these scribblings are one of the cats - Clover is a favourite as she lumps herself into such comfy poses. One day, when I have my life back, this will be turned into a big three colour lino print.
I haven't really painted since taking up needle felting over two years ago. I was very, very tired of it; one of my earliest memories is of my dad going into a shop, leaving me on the pavement and emerging with a long, thin blue tin box, which he handed to me with a gruff ''there you are girl'. Or words to that effect. It was a box of Reeves artist's watercolours. I was about four years old.
(This is not the first one - I used that one up and he bought me this replacement on a later birthday)
He also gave me crayons, coloured pencils, let me play with his pastels as a treat and generally encouraged me to paint & draw without saying much, just giving me the tools. It was also a good way to keep the house peaceful, which was something he craved (not that I think I was a noisy child). When he died, I made a vow to become an artist for him, and stuck to that promise, even though I was only twelve and trying to keep that vow made life very difficult for me. It took me until fairly recently to realise I didn't really enjoy painting at all; I was just going through the motions.
So I was more than happy to give painting a break - I was bored and even resentful of it, and the only painting I've done since then has been for the odd commercial job. (Drawing however, I do love and never stop). But I was so pleased and surprised to have an enquiry from a needle felt customer as to whether I had any original artwork for sale. Yes, but only the two - 'Luna' and 'Little Clown'. And they bought them at once. Which was lovely, especially for my overdraft. This, combined with the enormous amount of painting I have to do for my two jobs, has brought me back round to the idea of painting again. But - my paints have been dying over the years. Look! The 'condemned' ones with red crosses on are the totally dried up tubes; I've had many of these since the early 1990's. I went through them and realised I hadn't bought more than one or two tubes of new paint in a decade - the last time was back in 2005, just at the time I started this blog and tried out the (then)new 'Potter's Pink'. Not all of the dried up tubes needed replacing - colours like these pinks are so vibrant I only use them in tiny amounts, not for washes, so I can happily use the dry lumps they have become.
I took the plunge and spent some money. Not only paints, but all the paper I'll need for the final artworks (about 20 A2 sheets), and yet another ceramic palette (I can never have enough).And another big roll of gummed strip; the sad little remnant there is all that is left of the previous large one, which was used up over five years. That is, I can tell you, a lot of work. I also had to replace my pencils which get used up within weeks at the moment. This is my other box of paints; my gouaches and some of my new tubes. I bought everything from Jackson's Art online, who are my main suppliers; apart from their prices, I've never had anything but prompt and courteous service from them, and that's all you really want from a company. I indulged myself and bought several new colours from two brands I'd not heard of before. Shin Han and Maimeri Blu both make affordable water colours, and Shin Han especially had some gorgeous sounding hues, some of which are opaque, a quality I like. There are all kinds of *rules* about water colour painting and I ignore them all. I mix gouache with watercolour, even though it splits. You just keep briskly mixing it together as you work and this often gives me lovely, strange colours. (One of the other *rules* is that you don't mix watercolours - you layer them. However my entire painting style rests on mixing and re-mixing - it works for me).I made a little colour sample to try out the colours I'd not used before. The Shin Han ones came out on top. I've kept this image large, so that if you're interested you can click on it and see what I mean. The 'Shell Pink' and 'Horizon Blue' are two shades that I'm always mixing up, so it's nice to have it ready to hand. I've always thought of the pink as sticking plaster colour. The Shin Han samples are on the left, the Maimeri Blue on the top left, three of them.
I don't think I'll be using the 'Lilac' much, (too purpley) but 'Davy's Grey and 'Horizon Blue' are keepers. The one error was stupidly buying 'Green Earth' from the Maimeri Blu range. Of course, it's what I know as 'Terre Verte'. This brand of paint is also quite gummy, which is typical of a cheaper tange. Not something I mind, but I know some people do. The 'Sandal Red' is basically a geranium shade, but a nice one. Here it is with Sennelier's Rose Dore (very red) and Winsor & Newton's Geranium Lake (pale) gouache. But still very tasty.An opaque colour I used to use a lot for mixing is Daler Rowney's 'Nickel Titanate Yellow' . When I ran out I replaced it with a Winsor & Newton version, which really was not the same. It didn't have the chalky, lemony bite of the DR, so I'm glad to have it back. Another colour I am very fussy over is sepia. It's something I don't use in my commercial work, as it dulls the vibrancy. My publisher once had a prospective book of mine rejected by clients because it was 'too brown'. However I always put a sepia wash in my personal work and it seems to be a selling point, giving it a nostalgic feel. Go figure, as my American friends say. I only have one sepia in my box that I like, and that is an ancient tube of Reeves in lead casing. It has the blackness which marks proper sepia......here is is on the right, compared to two others I have (Winsor & Newton Gouache and Old Holland) which are really just brown. Actually my favourite sepia is in the Cotman student range, but naturally I forgot to order that one. I find it invaluable to keep a record of how I mix colours. This is a big sheet I made about 13 years ago, and I still use it today. Again, I've left it at big size., so you can click on it for more detail There are plenty of examples on it of how I've jumbled Nickel Titanate Yellow with other colours, to produce something I find interesting. So when I hit my final deadline (please God) at the beginning of June, I might just start painting for pleasure again, now that I've had my little strop and a two year break. Sorry Dad and thanks again for the paint box.
A day off to catch up with things which need doing before the year runs away. The first really warm day of Spring and time to sort the garden out. It's a blank canvas to start with. Then we begin planting our chitted potatoes. First we sow two rows of 'Ratte' (right hand side) and two of 'Kestrel' with some blood and bone meal to give them a kick start. It is supposed to rain tomorrow, so we don't need to water them.
My broad beans are doing well, but they can go in next week when the soil has had a good soak. Next *we* get to grips with putting up our new polytunnel - big, big thanks to Andy's mum and dad for such a generous Christmas present. Really it's just like putting up a big tent. Not my department, but remarkably easy. Apparently. As *we* busied ourselves, helicopters began humming overhead heralding the end of the first day of racing at the Cheltenham Festival and it felt as if this very long winter was finally over. We didn't realise it would be quite so big! It is 6.5 ft high, 6 ft wide and 14ft long. Our polytunnel came from here, but recently I have seen the same models for less, in sales. So I advise shopping around if you decide to invest in one.
Actually, it feels huge inside. It is three times as big as (what is laughingly described as) the cottage's kitchen. It's bigger than our bedroom. And it eats up a lot of the garden, especially once I had finished planting my potatoes, (Duke of York and King Edward) using most of the right hand bed. Andy is circumspect about the amount of space it uses. I don't care. Inside there is lots of shelter for my darlings......things are coming up at last. Hopefully this year we might actually get some tomatos, which will be snug under cover and safe from the tomato blight spores which thrive in the damp winds of our wet British summers and have literally blighted us for the last few years. And there will be aubergines, courgettes, sweet peppers, chillis, perhaps even beans trained up the poles and arches. What joy it is to be a gardener - we have big dreams, hope for the best and expect the worst. In the end, it is usually something in the middle.
For anyone wondering if I still make things, if I still needle felt, if I still paint - indeed I do; I do very little else at the moment, and am working very silly hours indeed. Things are getting somewhat stressful. I'm still bound by client confidentiality, so I will leave you to wonder what it is that is turning me into a nervous wreck.
Another job completed, packed up and off on it's travels and another deadline notched up. Just one more big one to go and life might resume an even keel. 
In order to get the work done, I've had to turn into a virtual hermit, but things are getting a little easier (she prayed, with her fingers tightly crossed) and I've even managed to update my antique blog template so I can be like all the other kids at school with *followers* and things. Marvellous. 
I have many forthcoming thank yous to say to certain lovely people who have sustained me with gifts over the last few months, but this is a special thank you to my friend Janet of The Empty Nest, who caused a bit of a stir in our superb little Delicatessen (one of the few 'real' shops in the village), or rather, the box she ordered for me did. I was shuffling about at the back of a loose queue of well dressed, sharp faced *ladies*, who were ordering all manner of gorgeous things, feeling rather out of place in my scruffy combats, waiting to buy a little pork pie to take with me to a cricket match. When it was finally my turn, I asked for my pie, only to be handed this amazing box of delights - 
There, in the middle, nestling like a good child at Sunday School, is one of my beloved local Cerney Pyramids, prince of cheeses and a rare treat. Also Barkham Blue, Cotswold ham, and my pork pie, made across the border by the Cotswold pudding Company in Gloucestershire as well as one of their famous puddings . And for good luck, Chris the kind deli owner popped in a box of Willy's World Class Cacao, which might be familiar to those in the who saw the TV series. I literally gulped for air as Chris explained who had sent it and staggered out of the shop with the *ladies* watching me. And although I had to take some work to the cricket match...
(I am in the process of updating my previous links, so don't worry if you've been there and now aren't (most of you) will be again!) 
