Spring storm, hares and a bit of good news.

As I write, there are sporadic storms passing over the cottage, driving in from nearby Herefordshire. It’s been muggy all weekend; not the overpowering heat of full summer, but a heavy, dense warmth that brings on slight headaches and sleepiness. Now the heat has been partially lifted by cool winds and intense, short downpours, and the thick grey clouds rumble and grumble with low thunder. I do love this weather - if only it could be forever May, with fickle, changing light, flurries of tiny, fresh flowers and all the greens popping with new life. 

Things are, to be perfectly honest, not easy. I have no idea what the rest of this year will bring, nor if I will be here the next. I’ve somehow managed to survive eleven years in this scruffy but very dear little home, first of all not knowing if I wanted to be here after losing Andy, then not knowing if I could, as I am almost totally reliant on my Etsy sales for survival. Mostly I take a stoical viewpoint and try to ignore the things in the past that I cannot change and the future, which is largely unknowable.  Not having anyone to discuss things with is so hard and I don’t have the mental resources to deal with what might happen. So, I carry on needle felting and try to drown out my subconscious fear of what may be. 

I’ve just finished a marathon of making two ‘show off’ pieces, which have taken a month or so to create. Usually I try to stick to more affordable, simple things, such as this batch of carrots, in my newer, realistic style - 

 - and for which I made little letterpresses labels, just for extra niceness. 

But sometimes I feel the need to flex myself and go large. Often I’ll make a sketch of something before I start, but these two were made up as I went along and I gradually added the little extras such as two lines of trimming to Carla’s skirt; French knots stitched with thick Perle thread. Then getting to almost the end and deciding she needed a special antique mother of pearl stud from my best button box to finish her off. 

Poor Charlie was started a couple of years ago and was taking so long that I abandoned him, finding him in a plastic moth-proof bag at the bottom of a basket earlier this year. He was very grateful to be rescued and even more relieved to be given ears and arms at last. I usually can’t afford to invest so much time into bigger pieces like these, but sometimes, as I said, I like to indulge in a bit of ‘showing off’. Wonderfully, Carla has just found a new home and so tonight I will sleep a little easier before packing her off on one of the lovely new gift boxes I’ve sourced, tied with a ribbon. 

Which leaves me with another piece of very good news - on the recommendation of my friend and miniaturist painter Valerie Greeley, I entered one of my imaginary toadstools, ‘Fog-in-the-Woods’ for the annual exhibition of the Royal Miniature Society, whose patron is King Charles. I almost didn’t, as it costs £18 per piece to submit, which is half of my weekly shopping budget, but I thought I’d give it a try; nothing ventured, nothing gained. 

Needle felt - or needle sculpted wool, which is what it really is - is a non-traditional and fairly new media. I wasn’t optimistic that  it would be considered, especially as it’s been languishing in my shop, unsold, for a few years. 

However, I was thrilled to receive an email telling me that it has been chosen for pre-selection. This is the exhibition choosing stage and there is every chance it may be rejected. I don’t know if any of the selectors will have knowledge of needle felt, so it will probably be judged solely on its merits as a sculptural piece. 

If it gets in, the minimum selling price is £190, which puts it up there as a serious work of art and would make a huge difference to my profile as a selling artist. However, I am keeping a firm lid on my expectations and consider it an honour to have been chosen just for consideration. But wouldn’t it be wonderful…

If you’d like to buy one of my pieces before I enter the high-rolling international art market, do pop into my Etsy shop and pick up a bargain. (Said with tongue firmly in cheek). 

New Year Return

The first day of a shiny New Year seems as good a time as any to crank this old blog back to some kind of wheezing life. The Old Year was a difficult one, particularly in the autumn, when I sank into one of the worst bouts of depression I’ve endured for years, largely down to the looming prospect of having to sell the cottage and face an uncertain future. However, I managed to drag myself out of it and am starting 2023 feeling remarkably positive, despite everything. 

After a creative slump, when I felt as if I’d never create anything original and pleasing again, I began making a new range of little creatures who have cheered me up during the dark winter evenings and are proving popular, quickly finding new homes and so helping me to stay in mine.

I tend to withdraw into myself when things are going downhill, hence the quietness here. When Andy and I relocated to Shropshire over ten years ago, it was supposed to be the next exciting chapter of our lives together and as many of you know, it was completely the opposite. The trauma of losing him, just three months after we moved into the cottage has taken it’s toll and I don’t think I’ll ever recover from it. What I didn’t know then, was that I was also starting the menopause, which brings its own set of difficulties, especially, in my case, mental health ones. I was also unaware that I have severe ADHD. I was finally diagnosed in May last year. It didn’t come as a surprise, but it has led me to reevaluate the way I live and to realise that all of these things made my time here the most difficult period of my life, which has not been the easiest in the first place.

I’ve no idea what the next ten years hold, if I’ll be here this time next year or even this summer. I am, however, feeling stronger somehow and more like my old self than I have done since leaving the Cotswolds. I’m older, more tired and achey, but I’ve managed to find a little nugget of courage kicking around in a corner, just when I thought I was all out of it.

Painting the hedgerows

Mid-may and the verges are spattered with Queen Anne’s Lace and sundry other wild pretties, overlooked by copious clouds of foaming hawthorn, which we must not pick and never, ever bring into the house, for fear of bad luck.

Even the ancient, warty Wrekin is softened with the flush of new green growth.

I have aways loved the sight of a narrow country road cutting through the landscape and forging onwards to an invisible end, softly edged by tumbling greenery, blurring the hard edges so that the road, for all its visual dominance, never entirely wins. And here is my own tumbledown cottage, hiding behind the greenery. If you look carefully, further down the lane you can see the lilac tree by the gate of Jean-and-Brian-next-door, 

This is a motif that comes out in my own work again and again, as I reinterpret and simply the landscape around me, most recently in these miniature hills, an edition of two. It is also a firm control of the messy chaos of wool, taming the fibres into a solidly outlined  object.

And there is the contrast again, in this large still life I painted last Sunday, with the hard plaster wall being softened and almost overwhelmed by the exuberance of the paint, depicting Fumitory and Honesty spilling out and escaping the confines of the white ceramic jug.

Here is a return to my early painting days of thirty years ago. A letting go of control, a ‘let’s see what happens if I do this’ and being content with using just a few loose, broad brushstrokes to do the visual heavy lifting of the background.

I cannot express how exhilarated and exhausted I was, by the time I put my brush down and thought ‘that’s it’.

Doppelganger

'Don't worry old chap, not much longer to go!'.

Another week, another radio appearance! Back briefly on Radio Oxford, with the lovely Jo Thoenes, available on the BBCiPlayer until July 19th, blethering on about this blog. Fast forward to about 2.20 minutes in, after the 'F1WAG'.

RADIO OXFORD INTERVIEW

It was going to be a Deer...

Reluctant to bore with yet another needle felted animal, I had intended to share a cracking little film I shot this weekend. We were quietly padding through the woods, (Andy several feet ahead of me as per usual) when he stopped and motioned. There, almost invisible, with his coat blending perfectly into the sun dappled tree tunks, was a roe stag, looking right at us. We didn't move. Nor did he. Softly we knelt down, to get out of his view, and watched him through the binoculars for a good five minutes. When we had our fill, we wondered if we could get closer. So, stealthily and silently we crept along the side path, nearer to where he stood, still rock solid. Deer stalking. Really, it amazes me that big as we are, at 6ft 8" and 6ft, we can move through the woods without making a sound - yet somehow we do. And we got so close to him we could see the velvet on his new antlers, and his big eyes, cautiously watching us. He knew we were there, but this young prince was not that bothered. Slowly I raised my camera, with the movie setting on and zooming in, got a cracking little movie of him, with a soundtrack of woodland birds singing their hearts out and our awestruck whispers in the background, as my accent lapsed into a rural Oxfordshire lilt. ''There you are boy, my little darling, hush quietly now..."

My new camera has been playing up and when we got back I was going to upload the film and post it here, for your delectation. But Andy was trying to work out the settings and get it working properly...and in a moment of madness, managed to delete it. So we have no deer. To his credit he was truly remorseful and offered me a pillow with which to smother him. However, that would have been a waste of credit; he owes me big time now, so I have let him live. Although I did scream a bit. (A lot).

So, onto less alive creatures. This chap was found in the wilderness of ebay - I managed to get him for 99p (just under $2). For some reason the seller neglected to show a photo of him - there was just a short description, of a plush toy dog, with music box inside, 1950's or 60's. So when I bought him I had no idea whether he would be in decent condition or falling apart...luckily he was just as I hoped. Despite a piratical and somewhat crazed look in his eye, he is rather sweet and not bad for 99p. He plays 'Hush a Bye Baby' when you wind his box up. He is very homemade and quite knobbly, being made round a stout wire armature with wood straw stuffing - don't think the Health and Safety brigade would approve of him as a baby toy...




And after a total of twenty five hours (yes, I do keep track) of work, I finally turned this wad of pink merino fluff...

...into this jazzy little lady, the kind of girl who gets up to dance to Boney M at wedding discos and shakes her booty, not giving a hoot. I ran out of pink wool and had to order more, she was sucking it in like a black (or pink) hole.

I put the now customary heart on her foot pad - I am going to try to incorporate one into every design from now on. The heart patch first appeared in my self-portrait-as-a-toy 'Celia', a couple of years ago...

...and here it is on Sally's big foot. And another little patch on her leg when she fell over dancing.

Sally looks really pleased to be finished at last, and we both have a big smile on our faces - because no sooner was she making her debut on Etsy, than she was snapped up and will be dancing to her new home tomorrow.

I have entered Sally and Jenny (see below) in separate categories in the 2nd Annual Softies Award, so no doubt I will be begging for your votes when the time comes. There are some stunning entries - they can be seen in the Flickr group, here. Toy Heaven.

I have been a complete numpty and forgotten to boast about two awards kindly given me - the first being from Rose Haven Cottage, a lovely sanctuary which I like to visit regularly, thank you so much...

...and this from my friend Ali over at Wool Gathering, the artypico award. Thank you so much!

I always get a bit confused by guidelines, but if I had to pick 5 blogs which I find to be gorgeous and interesting, then I would pick Talitka, who creates extraordinary needlefelt creatures, Bone Head Studios, who makes lovely primitive dolls, Illustrations & co, more needle felt loveliness, Gifling, another marvellous creative, and Erica's Attic, which is a pink haven of delight. I love them all.

Hen-ry Moore-ish

Andy came home the other day and asked what I had been doing...I picked my camera up and played back a little video or seven I had made. His eyes glazed over in that special 'I really wish I hadn't asked' way. For it has to be said, that needle felting is, to all intents and purposes, hours and hours of stabbing bits of wool into the required shape. But until you have actually done it, it can seem a mystery how a soft piece of fluffy colour can metamorphasise into - well, anything you like really. So for everyone who has been curious to know how easy it is, and what it entails, here is the evolution of a hen, taken from some ancient old sketches which I found kicking about in a sketchbook. I am afraid this is a bit of a lengthy waffle in which not-much happens, especially if you are not bitten by the felting bug...

So, here we start with a mass of wool top, all fluffy and amorphous. This is a lovely hank of blue merino from the Etsy seller Fibre Space Supplies. I am basing my piece on the pen and ink sketch in the background with the spots on. Anyone who knows their sculptors will recognise the Henry Moore pun...

You just start rolling and stabbing...I love the scrunchy noise the wool and needle makes! (Click to play)

And it starts to look a little like a kind of henny shape.



But...the tail is too fat...so it is simply cut off...(felt is SO forgiving).




And the excess can be moulded onto the front to get more of that bountiful chest!




Next it needs rounding...(Click to play)

...and more 'enhancement' at the front...




...a little fine tuning...I like my felt quite firm and well defined, although many people like to leave their work softer and wispier. (Click to play)

Adding a inquisitive, pokey beak and flobbley red bits...




...and after roughly 8 hours (which is my average time) We have Ms Mavis Hen...where did that egg come from?




I exactly know what Rachel Rabbit meant when she said that sometimes you need to keep the 'odd treasured creation'...but at the moment every dear little felted creature represents food, bills and maybe a new pair of boots. Unromantic but pragmatic.

Ms Mavis Hen, Performing in Etsy now until further notice.

Egg Nest

My entry for the NFEST (Needle Felt Etsy Street Team), which was 'Birds and Nests'. Starting from the rough sketch...

...it didn't turn out exactly like that; the wool did not like being felted so tinily. Each bird took about two hours to perfect. Or near as dammit.






But after about 12 hours (total) hard labour...



And finished off with a tag.

Thank you to everyone who left a supportive comment or e-mailed me, from the post below. I never cease to be amazed at how kind people can be, or actually how many of us are in the same leaky old boat.

New best friends

I have had an unseemly amount of enjoyment with this new needle felting lark. I used to make a lot of things, which is why I have so much textile-y stuff gathering dust in corners of my studio, but I had to bite the bullet and concentrate on becoming a vaguely competent painter. However - being a typical Cancerian - I hung on to everything, as sewing paraphernalia tends to be beautiful as well as (eventually) useful. In fact - and I am somewhat horrified to count back the years - it has been about a decade since I crafted anything. This month I have other publishing work which must be completed, so grabbing a precious hour or two with my felting needle has been a very guilty pleasure, hence keeping the curious waiting for my initial efforts. As well as waiting for delivery of little ribbons with my logo on, which are obviously being hand embroidered by Mongolian elfs, they are taking so long to arrive.

My first tentative stabs were loosely based on an old artwork, Mr Apricot -

- he started off like this...



- and ended up like this. Amazingly after all these years of non-sewing, I can still just about embroider a nose and managed to make halfway decent French knots for eyes.



At this point Andy's mum should not be reading, as he is her (very late) birthday present. He was missing something though...and unexpectedly, the wonderfully kind and very wool-centric Border Tart sent me a gorgeous collection of bright fluffy 'accents', all wrapped up in a fairy tale.



Funnily enough, I had just been looking through her shop to see if she sold these self same articles. Thank you so much Lindsay! Now my rabbit has what every bunny needs; a carrot.






Many years of painting and drawing 2D toys means that I am not at a loss for designs...in fact I wish I could sprout extra limbs, in order to be able to work, spider-like, on several projects at once.

The next idea was unashamedly inspired by a story from a favourite childhood Enid Blyton book, (and from where many early ideas and images fixed themselves in my imagination, still resurfacing in my work today).

Using a cotton wool base, she started rather bizarrely; a miniature yeti-like creature.

But several thousand stabs later, a bit of embellishment and a pink heart on her posterior she emerged looking plumply cute and rather like a Japanese crafted toy.

Wanting to move back to a more vintage style, I ransacked my Moleskine again -

- and started to roll, mould and stab again. Using cotton wool in the kitten saved on actual felting wool, but I seem to get a more satisfactory, organic shape with 100% wool top. So far she is eyeless and wingless. Does she need a crown or a frock? Or both?

I find it hard to believe there was life before needle felt.