This past week or two I have been pondering the meaning of life and the secrets of success and happiness while traveling on slow trains, celebrating major life events in inspirational cities and continuing to explore the wonderful land of mountains, lakes and lush bracken jungle that I'm constantly surprised to be suddenly living in. Maybe I should have opted for Philosophy at university like my lovely brother (so I could say what I mean more clearly)... anyway it seemed to me, at low points, that success and happiness are almost always measured in monetary terms. I've been horrified this week by news stories about the Prime Minister's pay rise while doctors are being told they don't work hard enough, people work like hell to subsist on minimum wage, important benefits are cut and don't even start me on the proposed reforms to the hunting bill. It was the hypocrisy and lack of respect for anything other than Mammon that upset me most. It's easy to feel like a failure (professional, financial or personal) in a game someone else invented... and then to find out they're sitting on half the cards and the rule book. And so, yesterday I forced myself to look at what I had actually achieved in the day, a day in which I felt low and unmotivated, and it was this...
1. I finished some stitching on a print I hope to show at Dalemain House in September as part of C-Art 
2. A pan of gooseberries for a fool (!) and a plate of warm peanut butter biscuits. 
3. I made a climbing chalk bag from a piece of cyanotype printed fabric and other things found in a hastily packed box of fabrics.So, take away the crushing sense of failure that means I am too poor to buy a flat with a nice kitchen for my daughter, a house with a studio for my parents or a car that works for my son... surely all we need is food, warmth and shelter and a bit of love...oh and creativity. Everyone should be able to afford this by virtue of their daily work and I never will understand the crazy economics of a world that sets such inequalities at its heart.
Goodness, this wasn't meant to be a soap box tirade, sorry. Its just that I was in Bristol last week for my daughter's graduation. It was a lovely and emotional time and we had a lot of fun, saw some great exhibitions, ate delicious food and talked and talked about what to do after university, the search for meaningful work and a place to live. Walking around Clifton we chose our ideal homes in the leafy, flower scented avenues before returning to Stokes Croft and stepping over the collapsed homeless man in the street, wracked with guilt but powerless to help.
It is a proud and melancholy feeling to realise that both my children are now grown up and have the hats to prove it. My nest is very empty and now begins my slide into eccentric old age; I may collect gnomes or teddy bears and take them on trips to the supermarket in Keswick...So, leaving Bristol was hard.; it felt full of all kinds of life, diverse and creative, inspiring and shocking, but as the empty train trundled North and the sun fell in to the sea I felt excitement in the pit of my stomach to see the mountains silhouetted in the distance.And some bears are waiting, as well as a cupboard full of stuff to make a loaf of bread. The Fells are green and wet and really don't mind how slowly you climb them so long as when you get to the top you look back the way you came and feel overjoyed to be alive despite the struggle of the climb.
Reading:- "Titus Alone" Mervyn Peake Listening To:- Wind in the Sycamore trees
I'm sitting in here looking out at so much damp, lush greenness that it must be affecting my eyes ( you know the way if you stare at a green thing for long enough when you look away everything looks red?). Because of the way this place stands, tucked into the hillside, surrounded by massive Sycamore trees... high windows on one side and a huge glass sliding door on the other- there is very little sky and today it feels very much like a being in a cave (or a treehouse if you stand on tiptoe and look out of the high windows). Either way it's cold today so I'm remembering the heat wave of last week when we swam in the river Duddon at Birk's Bridge and drank instant coffee with a couple of young lads from Barrow who befriended us and left a warm feeling of wellbeing. Here's a confession; when I first saw two lads on motorbikes near the spot we'd chosen to swim, my heart sank...when did I become so mistrustful of other people and such an awful snob!? They turned out to be amazingly polite, friendly and considerate... shattering stereotypes I didn't know I had, because in fact it was they who made the friendly gestures- starting a conversation, offering us coffee, helping me find my way over the rocks through the beery water and generally appearing blind to differences of age, class or situation in a way that I am obviously not now that I'm middle aged and more self conscious than a teenager. Anyway, It was a lovely experience made memorable by a chance encounter with strangers.
Life in Keswick continues to feel special, if a little unreal. At work I can see Robinson framed by watery glass or a circles of swifts and its hard to believe this is home now. There's just the thin line between solitude and loneliness and the moments when I wake from a nightmare in which I'm being chased around my old garden by the evil Kev Sayer as I frantically try to gather as many precious plants as I can carry! Its been almost 6 months.
Last week I finally plucked up the courage to take some of my new prints to work and so some magic tents and white cottages have snuck in amongst the oil paintings in the wonderful Northern Lights Gallery. They've just started doing Own Art too, so my framed pieces are just eligible ( work has to be original or limited edition and priced between £100 and £2500)
In between making pictures of various shelters. from tents to imaginary towers, I have been working on some needle felted alpacas for Alpacaly ever after. who have recently had their Kickstarter project funded and are pretty funny and amazing people. I helped out a bit on shearing day and came home with a bag of fleece to attempt felting experiments. Washed and set out to dry on the bench it looked like some disgusting old wigs but just over 4 hours of vicious stabbing later some alpacaish creatures started to emerge... here is number two with his friend the Earth Bear. Now... how to price something that takes nearly 5 hours to make? The Bear is currently for sale in my Etsy shop for an amount that wouldn't even pay me minimum wage.... grab him quick before I come to my senses!
And finally... what do you think of this new design? I'm planning to get some silk or thin cotton printed up to make scarves, this is one of the designs from an original cyanotype drawing that is now in the gallery. 
I know you won't believe me but I think about you all the time. Ever since I got back from my trip to London I've wanted to tell you all about it but like a lazy lover or a neglectful friend I have frittered away my time this week; walking about the fells talking to myself and enjoying the precious Northern British heatwave. Now there's too much to say and it won't all fit here.
Sara's work, as you know, is about plastic pollution in the Oceans and it was wonderful to see it in real life ... from detailed drawings with etched perspex overlays to the beautiful "Ghost Fish" cast in resin encasing plastic and nylon fishing gear found on beaches. So thoughtful and disturbing with a really important environmental message.
Well, it's been 7 years since I started this blog and since my own graduate shows; I know how much work goes in to producing a final collection so right now I'm just full of admiration and pride (and a little envy as I'd love to do it all again!). Now the real hard work begins... but hopefully the creativity will continue.Well, I like to be an owl and there's so much more to tell you... Alexander McQueen at the V&A, returning home to discover the Ruskin Museum, coming out in hives for no apparent reason.... but I'm at work tomorrow and my book is getting to an unputdownable bit so I must say goodbye for now.
That was my attempt at scientific, methodical printing and here is a print which is now for sale in the Northern Lights Gallery. The tent is leaking magic into the mountains ... or maybe its sleeping powder, night night x
Reading: "Any Human Heart" William Boyd Listening To: Seth LakemanGraduates Websites : http://www.imogenclifton.com http://www.millieduffey-illus.wix.com/millieduffey http://www.frejya-moon.co.uk http://www.auroreswithenbank.co.uk http://www.cargocollective.com/elliceweaver http://www.cargocollective.com/jackxander http://www.sara.tillyersmith.com