9.3.23
Shropshire snow
28.2.23
Little cottage room made good
However, with a very small electric budget and the ongoing issue of rising bills, I decided to leave my upstairs studio storage heater off this winter, with the result that I've been unable to work in there without catching a chill (even with several layers of clothing and a dressing gown on top). And I can't afford not to work.
So last month I used some Christmas money to get the sweep in. He declared the fire fit for purpose and Brian-next-door helped me put a rudimentary curtain rail over the open doorway, to block the cold upstairs air off. I finally got this neglected space sorted out; I now have dedicated painting and printing space, and a place where I can work in the warm with the fire going.
It's made a huge difference, as I can pick things up and put them down without losing sight of them, as happened with the other space, where my work table had several roles, and had to be cleared for each one. Life is slowly starting to make sense and ideas are beginning to return. Little bits of my brain, the ones that dreamed of silly, whimsical things, are waking up again and the results are finding their way onto paper.
My aim is to expand what I do, on top of needle felting and bring in enough extra money to cover the mortgage and be able to stay here. It's been a long struggle to maintain things and at times hasn't seemed worth it, without Andy to share it with.
My drive to be an artist and to earn a living creating has seen me through tougher times than this. As a young person in the care system, trying to fend for myself, my ambition to be an artist saved me from many pitfalls; nothing else mattered apart from that one thing that drove me forward and to make a better life for myself. In retrospect, I'm amazed I achieved what I did, especially now I know I had undiagnosed ADHD on top of everything else.
If I'd known how long and hard my journey would be, I might have given up, but I didn't, so I'm not about to throw the towel in now, not without a final effort. I owe it to my younger self.
(The ceramic cat in front of the fire is one I made when I was a 20 year old art student and it looks totally at home underneath the warmth).
1.1.23
New Year Return
28.8.22
Cuttings from a garden in Wales
It’s a rambling, overgrown wild beauty of a garden, bursting out over grassy pathways and only loosely tamed to some semblance of formality. Let’s follow my neighbours down the veg and herb patch and have a wander.
Through the walled gardens…
…past the little orangerie…
…down ‘Wisteria Walk’ towards the classical fountain…
…discovering a fairy folly…
…and a handy bench by a fallen beech, where I rested my arthritic knees, while Jean and Brian took a brief detour to visit a nearby bird hide and came back filled with delight at having seen a kingfisher.
Leaving the main gardens, we headed towards the side of ‘the big house’ (which I thought was relatively modest by Georgian standards).
Coming round to the frontage and a drive large enough for a few carriages.
Directly in front of the house, there is an area of clipped neatness, with the lush, rolling Welsh landscape in the background and tumbling, moody skies overhead. But even here, the planting has been allowed to spread and spill along the edges.
8.8.22
Decorative Needle Felting
A front section on techniques, including darning onto felt, patching and adding beads.
Four seasonal sections each containing five lovely patterns, with some stand out Christmas projects including a gingerbread village and a ‘Marvellous Mr Hare’ tree topper - this is one for the dedicated needle felter.
One of the nice things about having a book published is the opportunity for a dedication to someone special. Initially, back in pre-Covid 2020, that was going to be Joe. (Remember him? Me neither). That leaky ship mercifully sailed long before publication, and I was able to dedicate it to the people who have been the most supportive, through everything I’ve catalogued here, there and elsewhere. That’s you, reading this.