Today the wind dropped and the day was reasonably dry and warm so I've just come in from an hour of stick collecting and branch cutting (laying a hedge to let in more light hopefully). Today is Imbolc... the first day of spring, Groundhog Day or St. Brigid's Day and so, good weather and wood collecting are not necessarily a good thing. The Cailleach collects the rest of her winter fire wood at Imbolc if she intends to make the season last a good while longer (bad weather on this day was seen as a sign that the Cailleach was asleep and that winter would soon be over). Anyway, it was good to be busy outside, it was still light at five, the snowdrops have emerged and as you can see I've been catching blue sky in bottles this week to save for a rainy day!
On Sunday I discovered this little home in a tree on the side of Buttermere; I'm not sure if it had been washed there by the floods or if it fell from higher up but it looked rather sad and in need of a new roof. We walked around the lake, which I'd never done before. The path goes through a tunnel in the rock at one point and it was all very quiet and beautiful; a dusting of snow on the tops and the lake very still and green with orange bracken slopes, bright green moss and young silver birches with pink and white bark - quite a colour scheme despite the late winter gloom.Meanwhile in my "studio" the colour scheme is very blue and white as I continue to plan what to take to BCFT in April. I bought some lovely Pink Pig sketchbooks and have been printing and embroidering covers for them on heavy calico. I was so pleased and flattered when they were spotted by the company on Twitter; they were really complimentary which is always such a nice thing when you're working in isolation in a barn and have no one to get feedback from except the cat!
The days are racing on and by the time I've finished typing this it will already be almost halfway through another week and only four days before I pick a winner for the giveaway in the last post... so if you haven't left a comment there's still time and if you have then thank you ( and good luck).
This is only a short offering today, I have to try and finish designing the catalogue and price list I'm making so that I can post it out to the galleries who have already requested one. I have to continue with product development and working out prices and terms and conditions and how to stick my stand together and most importantly I have to feed the stove because its getting dark and cold now and I need a cozy nest to work or I just huddle and go sleepy like a bear in a cave hoping to hibernate. The wind is picking up again so maybe the Cailleach is stirring...
This past weekend marked a year since the first night in our new home in Newlands Valley; the anniversary has so many emotions attached to it that it was a roller coaster of feelings and memories . The snow had given way to warm rain and greyness so Sunday's walk was along the shores of Derwent Water, where this storm damaged jetty appealed to my introspective mood... a metaphor for life with its wild ups and downs, rakish camber and, well ... the obvious question where is it heading and where do you go when you reach the end? I lay awake for hours the other night with so much I wanted to say about this year and how I got here but the rapid approach of BCTF and the fact that for the moment this blog serves as my website, not just a confessional, means I'm more aware than ever of the need to keep a stiff upper lip, appear positive and not get on my soap box too often. However, just for today let me remind you of what I had to leave behind...
...not just a house but a home, a garden, a history, a way of life, family, friends and belonging to a landscape. Congratulations to all those involved for living with your consciences for a year and especially Mr Toby Horton who is currently adding to his community spirited portfolio by failing to supply residents of Ingleby Greenhow with reliable running water from the private water supply he owns; some things never change.And so the only thing to do is keep on looking forwards, treating others with the kindness and compassion you'd hope for yourself and trying to negotiate the slippery pier without falling in too soon.
Last week I received the not unexpected news that the gallery in Keswick were having to make staff cuts following the floods, and so my year in the Lake District ends as it began, with a search for work and security whilst also throwing myself more wholeheartedly than ever into a more professional approach to my artwork. I've really enjoyed my time at Northern Lights Gallery and I'm so sad it's had to end, not to mention a little worried. I think it is important that people realise just how seriously affected many people have been, and will continue to be, by the floods, not just businesses that actually flooded but also those who are suffering from the road closures and drop in visitor numbers. It's an ongoing thing and sadly so many small galleries and creative businesses in particular seem to have been hit over the important Christmas period. Independent galleries are vital in supporting many other small businesses, providing a shop window for all those artists and makers slaving away in leaky studios and cluttered kitchen tables; they also make our towns more attractive and uplifting. So here is my appeal... if you can, please support small galleries and independent businesses, don't go in and ask for the artist's website address so you can try and get it cheaper, don't pick up a greetings card to jot down a name and then walk out without even having the grace to part with the £3 for the card ( it happens ) and if you have a moment have a look at this from Snug Gallery in Hebbden Bridge.
Well, the kettle on the stove is about to boil so I really need to be brave, make a pot of tea and make a start on cobbling together my stand design; it will involve cutting and measuring and is bound to end in tears which is why I've spent all day avoiding it!Oh my goodness! I nearly deleted this whole post by accident just then, what a fright. Just time to say THANK YOU yet again for reading, commenting and being generally lovely. To celebrate my first year in the Lake District I'm going to do a long overdue giveaway. If you'd like to be entered in the draw to win a pair of mugs, embroidered lavender sachet, bear pincushion and various other design samples, just leave a comment - and share this post on Facebook or Twitter if you can. I'll pick a winner on February 6th... the last day I spent in North Yorkshire and my parent's wedding anniversary. Good luck x
Listening to: Kaleidophonica by Spiro ( perfect soundtrack for driving around the mountains )
Snuggled by the stove with the last of the Christmas cake, a slab of Stilton and a pot of strong coffee. The cat is asleep in a perfect curl on the round footstool and I can't hear anything but the crackle of the fire (ok thats a lie, the computer is whirring annoyingly but I didn't want to spoil the picture ... actually if you could see the picture it would be spoiled by the fact that my head is caked in hot henna and wrapped in cling-film and a bobble hat- but for the moment you must imagine I'm looking glamourous in some sort of cashmere lounging outfit). Proper Winter came and changed everything; even if it was for just a weekend. It's easy to be cynical and mock the sudden glut of snow scenes on people's Facebook pages, the childlike excitement when snow is forecast, the birth of hundreds of slightly muddy, doomed snowmen but here in rainy grey England there's no denying it is an event that can still seem magical... so long as you don't have to travel anywhere and it doesn't go on too long.On Thursday, waking up to the transformed landscape, I took myself on a tiny first winter ascent of Snab Bank, I had the whole valley to myself, virgin snow, spirals of spindrift and shocking blue skies not seen for months. Its nearly a year since I came here in deep distress and it felt unbelievably good to be standing in this wonderful place soaking up the light and vitamin D ( although I keep wondering how on earth all those polar explorers managed to keep going- I was exhausted and realised I would be the first to be eaten in a disaster scenario).
Last week I mentioned the fact that I was missing my snowed-in time and how important it is to me for some reason. My brother read the whole of "The Long Winter" by Laura Ingalls Wilder when he was here at Christmas and I'm sure it's books like that as well as a kind of Northern race memory (?) that makes winter such a special and potentially creative time; perhaps its just the enforced stillness. Anyway, I was freezing last week, trying to save firewood, so I finally got around to making a little work space in the small room. It's like a cell or an old fashioned school room... no distracting view through the window when I'm at my desk. I drew things and listened to Howard's End on the radio and got excited by cyanotype again. "Only connect"
I am easily distracted and who can blame me with a head full of bears and icing sugar mountains outside the window?
So this week I am trying to be more organised and practical... my tax return is done, velvet has been ordered from Glasgow, ceramic printing experiments continue and I've paid the final installment for my stand at BCTF this April. Now I can't sleep with worry and excitement and ideas and panic but as Rupert said this weekend, whatever happens something will happen and it needs to because I can't survive on occasional Etsy sales so it'll either make me realise I have to change direction or encourage me to keep going. The show is in Harrogate from April 10th - 12th and I think my stand is N27 so come and say hello if you're there.
Now I think it's time for some music while I wait for the henna to do it's herbal alchemy. Recurring in my head at the moment ..."blue, blue electric blue..."Reading: 'Feral" by George Monbiot Listening to: "Sound and Vision" David Bowie