"Nourish yourself with grand and austere ideas of beauty that feed the soul… Seek solitude,” Delacroix. I've been wondering what exactly is keeping me from writing more frequently....or making new work for that matter and I can only assume it must be that I now have company in my rural idyll. Solitude is important to many creative people and even though I still have loads of time to myself, only work part time in the day job and have my own small space to retreat to, the balance has shifted now that Rupert is also living and working here. I'm spending less time wandering lonely as a cloud and more time going on mini adventures together after work; more importantly for the writing of this blog, I'm not sitting up all night drinking shed loads of coffee alone with the radio (actually its never been the same since Guy Garvey's Finest Hour got moved to daytime; I blame the BBC). I must find a new routine and the discipline to go with it because the reality of living in a draughty barn is that it's much nicer when there's company.
Daily routine and self motivation when you're self employed is a subject that fascinates me because to the outside world it can look like you're doing nothing and achieving even less... the idea of "working from home" often being a euphemism for laziness or sitting around in your pyjamas. I enjoyed the series of essays in the Guardian called "My Writing Day" which gave an insight into how successful writers actually get stuff done. In contrast my writing "day" means I uploaded the pictures for this post last week, started writing it, got distracted, had to go to work, had house guests and now a week later I have spent most of today looking at the rain, sorting old clothes for the charity shop, half starting an order for a gallery and suddenly deciding to spring clean the bathroom while my computer sits forlorn and resentful next to a pile of neatly cut out prints and calico squares for covering notebooks ( I am dressed though). I assume I'm not alone in behaving like this but it's hard to tell when you're halfway up a mountain and only have social media to compare notes with.
The summer seems to be flying by and some of the exhibitions I've been showing work in are almost over before I've had a chance to tell you about them. Despite all that I lost when I was forced to move I have to admit that this year has opened up so many opportunities for me. Until early September you can find these two pieces (and more) in the Byard Gallery, opposite Kings College in Cambridge! (when I was small I once accompanied my dad on a day trip to Cambridge where he was showing work at the Hobson Gallery; I remember telling him I planned to go to Cambridge, meaning the University of course but this almost makes up for my turning out to be more of a drop out than a high flyer!). There are also prints and jewellery in the Leeds Craft and Design Centre, cards and notebooks in the Leaping Hare Gallery, Easingwold and of course Cherrydidi in Keswick who have a small selection of eveything.
A couple of weeks ago I ran my second cyanotype workshop at the Greystoke Cycle Cafe. I have to admit I was dreading it as the forecast was for horrible weather and the forecast was right, it was dark and wet. In the end though, and looking back, I really enjoyed it- and so did they I hope. We managed to make loads of really lovely prints even in low light and with only a very small exposure unit between eight people; braving the weather to rinse prints under a gazebo with a hosepipe. Sometimes it feels a bit mad to be telling people how you make your work but it's been so satisfying to have students get in touch with images of things they've made since the course and know that they were inspired and excited by what they learnt. One of my students was an artist called Tracey Escolme who makes paper cuts, she is part of next month's C-Art if you are in Cumbria during September. A few people have asked if I'm doing any more courses and I'm hoping Annie will ask me back next summer; I'm also thinking about maybe doing some small half days here (mostly as an excuse to make coffee and cake) so do get in touch if you'd like to be added to a possible list of participants.
Have you noticed how I've been really good and not mentioned swimming? Well I have to just a little because I was pretty brave the other day and swam with Rupert to a little island on Derwent Water called Otterbield Island. Its not far and I won't be qualifying for the Olympics but it was a small breakthrough in distance and conquering fear- the vertigo of swimming in bottomless dark water. I felt a bit tired and slightly panicky at one point and had to rest on my tow float (I got it for this reason because it allows me a moment to pause and have a word with myself as well as making sure the launch doesn't run us down) but the water was mirror smooth and the evening was perfect, sunset and moonrise and "Nightswimming" by REM in my head. I also had a fun swim in the River Avon at Lacock Abbey in Wiltshire, with my daughter recently... very different to Lake swimming and one of the best days I've had for ages.; a miniature holiday that felt very special.
Anyway, the day today is not conducive to swimming today and it's almost time for tea so I'm going to do a spot of baking and build some extra layers of insulating blubber for my next outing! Here is a rare self portrait of me pondering solitude and creativity by the water a few weeks ago.Reading:- "The Gap of Time" Jeanette Winterson Listening To:- Nightswimming REM
I made myself a nest of velvet pillows, a strong coffee and promised I'd write while it rains the now customary July deluge outside. I think it's probably been the longest gap in my blog posts since I began 8 years ago but at least this gap has been a relatively good one and not caused by rotten boyfriends or evil landowners. Since April I have been in a strange place... simultaneously showered with positive comments and opportunities, whilst wracked with a deeper than ever lack of self belief and confidence. No sooner had I returned from British Trade Craft Fair with a book full of contacts and exhibition offers then I panicked and started looking for part time work, any work that was regular REAL work. I think it's called Imposter Syndrome and it's very common apparently, especially amongst us over sensitive "arty types"! Anyway, I ended up with a part time job at the Herdy Shop, some regular stockists for my work, some exhibitions and even occasional workshop teaching, so of course I've been rushed off my feet and become rich beyond my wildest dreams. That's a lie, I've been pinned to my chair by inertia on the days I don't work at the shop and bursting with frustrated creative energy on the days that I do; well I've always been a fickle creature. On balance though I have to say things have been moving slowly in the right direction since BCTF and really ever since moving to the Lakes. Things have been happening and nothing has stayed the same which is probably why I'm not always comfortable... I've been compared to a limpet, hard to shift from the security of my "home scar".
There is a little house on the side of Cat Bells which looks from a distance as though it is totally isolated and empty; in fact it's quite hard to see, framed by trees and slate grey like the mountainside (not like this little white cottage of my imagination). I wonder who lives there... more than anything else I imagine myself living there as I do with lots of the idyllic places here in the Lake District. A home, a place to dig and plant and light a stove for bread and coffee. It makes me sad to see empty places and the culture of property as investment, I'm a romantic idealist with no understanding of economics which is probably why I will never own my own home and will always wish I did. 
The best investment I've made this year was made on a muggy day in May when I had been feeling really low and anxious about returning to Osmotherley for Art in the Shed. Rupert was driving us through Ambleside when on an impulse I demanded we stop and look in the outdoor swimming shop and maybe find out about wetsuits. Before I knew what was happening we were stripped off and being politely squeezed into black rubbery suits in the tiny warm shop and trying not to panic (I've been trapped in changing rooms before unable to extricate myself from a too tight top so I was wary). Rupert, being shy, left his shirt on which gave the bizarre impression that his wetsuit had a collar and was maybe a little more formal than mine. Anyway, Pete from "Swim the Lakes" was wonderful and patient while we giggled and struggled and we left the shop £300 lighter with two big pizza style boxes containing our shiny new wetsuits and that giddy feeling when you've done something a bit naughty.It was over a week before we finally got to immerse the wetsuits for the first time (Art in the Shed turned out to be a great success and I was reminded -though I never really forget -how important my old friends are to me and that community of supportive women that I miss so much in my new life.) We were cautious, I'm the kind of person who swims at the edge of the pool and still worries that someone may release sharks through the air vents (blame James Bond and several bad swimming instructors in the the 1970s) The moored boats which looked so close suddenly seemed miles away. Swimming in the open air is so different ... everything is moving around you, clouds, trees in the wind, ripples on the surface and it feels as though you're not getting anywhere; only the mountains stand still. The wetsuits give you a strange buoyancy and it took me a while to realise that the best thing to do was relax, slow right down and just enjoy the sensuality of it, I'm doing it for pleasure not sport. Kelly Kettle tea and Digestive biscuits are part of the deal, taking part in triathlons is not.
Since the first tentative dip I am slowly gaining a little confidence. I'm not particularly fit and I'd like to be before I risk swimming too far but it is the test of mental strength that interests me more. In Loughrigg Tarn the shady bank, warm, silty mud and waving tendrils of water plants initially worried me ...what is below me? what if I can't touch the bottom? What if a swan gets angry? Fear of the unknown, of the dark, of trusting in your own abilities. It's a kind of vertigo and the only way I can deal with it is to concentrate on what I see above the water... I am surrounded by water lilies, yellow flag irises and reeds with clumps of slimy eggs like frog spawn (water snail? fish?). I am Ophelia in a Pre-Raphaelite painting, I'm no longer a dumpy middle aged woman in unflattering Neoprene. The water is holding me up and I swim further than before. In Blea Tarn we swam in the rain, mesmerized by the patterns of concentric circles as the raindrops fell. It felt ancient as though something from the ice age could still be lurking and I could feel the stroke of soft weeds on my ankles. Suddenly Rupert stood up, the water wasn't as deep as I had thought, the comedy of it lost as he told me the rock we had been aiming for was actually a drowned calf! Still it was exhilarating and somehow all the better for the rain.
And so, before you run away because you really didn't want to read about swimming, here is the reservoir above the house (I'm not sure if you're allowed to swim really but its our drinking water so...). Icy cold infinity pool and deeper than anything. I have walked past it when the surface was crystallizing to ice before my eyes and it was deep in the shadow of the fells but conquering my fear and swimming across its bottomless depths has been a real achievement for me. The picture below was taken by James from Cumbria House B&B in Keswick. He and Ruth joined us one afternoon for the comedy of "changing into wetsuits in public without revealing your bum". I was again transformed into a small black pudding while Ruth actually does look like a Pre-Raphaelite painting and is the most lovely person. making me feel welcome when I first came here and knew nobody.
Well, I've managed to spend all day pondering over this writing, no wonder I don't do it very often, it's time to cook and make more coffee. I promise I will write again soon with an update on exhibitions and stockists and arty things and I (probably) won't mention water once...Reading: "Dip" by Andrew Fusek Peters Listening To: "The Fog" Kate Bush
I feel as though I've been caught in a time warp, it doesn't seem possible that just a week ago I was setting off across the country, full of nerves and excitement, my poor old car packed to the roof with work and stand props. The British Craft Trade Fair in Harrogate has been a background preoccupation and worry for the past 2 years (ever since I had to postpone taking part due to the house trauma) and it seems unreal that it's now over and actually the real work is only just beginning. I imagine I'm feeling a little bit like a couple returning from their expensive wedding and honeymoon; so much planning and heaps of money just for one special event but it's what happens next that really matters. I had a fantastic time pretending to be Agatha Christie in the Old Swan but it feels so good to be back on the mountain after an emotional return to North Yorkshire. We are a little behind with the seasons, Hawthorne and Sycamore buds are still only just emerging, Daffodils are at their Wordsworthian peak with Bluebell spears poised to take their place. It all has the air of something about to burst... a little sunny nudge and the whole thing will be freewheeling towards summer abundance.
There is so much I want to say about the experience of BCTF, I haven't yet worked out exactly how much it cost but I will let you know in a future post because I think might be really useful if anyone was thinking of doing a trade show. I really wish I had done it sooner... within a year or two of graduating, mostly because it has been a really useful lesson in planning, pricing, logistics and PR. It was a massive relief that the calico panels fitted the space (after a tiny adjustment to the wooden rods with a borrowed hacksaw) and everything looked almost as I had imagined it. I was envious of some of the more minimalist stands, they looked so slick and professional but overall I was very happy and relieved. It took 3 hours to set up and one to break it all down again!
My glamorous and wonderful assistant Sara was totally invaluable. I really couldn't have done it without her (partly because my hips kept seizing up so I could hardly move after 7 hours of standing with a clip board). Sara kept me straight when I drifted in to typical artist "down talk", reminding me that the work was was unique and perfectionist not experimental and "hit and miss"; she also correctly predicted the winner of the "Wow Factor" award, another CCAD graduate Joanna Coupland .We met so many interesting people and agreed that being a buyer or a trend forecaster must be a great job.
The list of artists and makers that we met and whose work we fell in love with is too long to mention, I'll list a few at the end, but the whole event reinforced my passionate belief that the skills and talents of these people should be celebrated and nurtured. Many artists and makers rely on the sale of cards for example, while they wait for the bigger pieces to sell, galleries too, which is why the Just a Card campaign is such a good idea. We don't need a world full of mass produced cheap crap, we need fewer but more beautifully made things and an education system that values the arts and the contribution art and craft makes to society.
The wall I was most pleased with was my card wall with embroidered details and a quote from Haruki Murakami. I love receiving real handwritten letters (nice ones not upsetting ones) and it seems that the greetings card is not dead; people still spend money on lovely cards to keep or send. I was hoping the show would push me in one direction or another but in the end there was interest in ALL the products from original framed pieces to mugs and velvet cushions so after this I'm off to continue following up the contacts I made, evaluating all the feedback and making a start on some new cyanotypes and drawings.
Thank you so much to everyone who visited the stand or sent good wishes from afar. It's been wonderful to meet so many people and talk non stop for 4 days - a complete contrast to where I sit now, listening to the buzzards circling above the valley... and an owl just then... oh and the sun is just breaking through.Some of my my lovely stand neighbours :Melissa Yarlett- gorgeous jewellery inspired by mosses and lichens Stephanie Hopkins - copper bowls and jewellery ( award winner at the show) Holly Argyll - Bright, quirky illustrations on textiles and giftware Katie Edwards - Fellow member of Cumbria Printmakers