Studio Notes no. 186

planning ahead & tiny stories

hello Everyone

I hope you have had a good week.

photo: a hint of what’s to come - with a book on Charleston farmhouse - always inspired by the colours and pattern-making Bell and Grant used in their world.

It is a bank holiday weekend here in England - and then it will be September and I will get to hear the children at the local Infants school playing outside again- I have missed them. I am looking forward to September light, walks, reading (there is a reading challenge called ‘shorty September’ - reading short books).

I am looking ahead -

I love to write - and intend on writing more over the months ahead. It always lifts my heart when someone comments to say they enjoyed my stories here - so many years of writing quietly and now I feel I have an ‘audience’, and can only hope you continue to enjoy reading.

What of my work as a visual artist? Yes, I plan, I plot, I write lists and re-think - and am always thinking months in advance. As an artist, I like to make work when it feels right to make it, but I also recognise the need for some kind of focus, to challenge myself in ways, to keep things exciting.

I have enjoyed my spring and summer of painting - special highlights have been the summer flower paintings, working a little bigger than I have in the recent past and visiting several cottages (of my imagination). I have also painted figures on paper -

photo: a recent painting - portrait of a woman between dreaming trees - currently available in my shop

September onward is when I often like to shift my focus.

Earlier in the year I had anticipated moving on from summer painting into autumn machine embroidery. But. I am not feeling it, as far as embroidery is concerned - ever since the Watts gallery exhibition - which was a success (I am very grateful).

Now that particular world of my imagination has been shared in a public space I somehow feel differently about it. It is hard to elucidate without being a little too navel-gazing - all I need to tell you really is there must be a longer breathing space. Have I broken some kind of magic? I asked Margery (my sewing machine) if this was the case and she sort of shrugged (needle did a slight jolt). I feel we both must be enthusiastic to make work that really matters.

I only ever want to share my best work - it does not matter what the medium is. I need to be genuinely engaged with it and excited to share.

I recently won an auction - a box full of tapestry yarn. I bought the colourful wool to use in my knots embroidery but seeing all the colours singing together has inspired me to think again about - dolls. I have always used vintage tapestry yarn for knitting doll hats and other accessories - sometimes mixing other yarn including my own hand spun yarn…. Anyway, all those colours and possibilities for stripes inspired me think doll!

So this autumn is going to be about textiles, sewing and knitting -in particular doll making. This will take me right back to my roots! The pointy hat chaps are coming back to town.

Alongside the dolls etc.. I will continue with drawing and hope to offer a new collection of monoprint artworks, quite regularly. I will continue on with making drawings in pencil and pen. I love to draw.

As for painting - I will be giving myself time to paint, but this will be sketchbook focused. After these past months of working figuratively, I would like to return to exploring more abstract ideas. A small collection of abstract paintings may or may not happen - but these will exist in their own bubble for a bit.

Thank you for understanding how I work in cycles, for seeing that it is possible to engage with different ideas over time.

In autumn I also plan to be offering new printed postcards and a zine - or two! More on that later.

I’m not wishing these last days of August away, but I am now looking forward to September onward.

Shop News

meanwhile… in this last week of August I will continue on with painting flowers and landscapes - and I will be drawing -

and updating my shop -

Next update will be: Wednesday 27th August at 7pm - with preview from about 4pm

I hope to have a lively mix for this last week of my summer schedule.

Thank you always for your kind interest and support. It is much appreciated.

**

Update on tariffs news - Royal Mail are working on their ‘tariff capable’ new system, to be able to handle packages being sent to the US. All packages will need any tariffs and fees to be paid before they land in the US. It will take a bit of time for the new system to be implemented and up and running smoothly. As soon as I can I will be sending a few test packages to the US. Hopefully, then, once things are working well, I can begin again to accept orders from US customers - I will certainly keep you updated here.

There’s still quite a bit of confusion out there in social media. I can only suggest it is best to check for information on the Royal Mail website.

**

Sketchbooks

photos: here are recent sketchbook pages - I will be continuing with these ideas on abstraction over the weeks ahead

These sketchbook pages show my interest in layers of time, half-hidden stories that cannot be figured, the colours of a fading past and present.

*

Here’s a sequence of stories inspired by my day-to-day creative life and observations - hope you enjoy reading.

ten tiny stories

(Cordial!)

1.

Fluffy Wonder sits at the top of the metal fire escape in a state of half-sleep. I want to stand on a stool, reach my arms out of the kitchen window and somehow scoop the young jackdaw into my arms. Of course, then all his soft curls, those baby feathers, would fall away. So I leave him there to snooze, with no suggestion of any deep thought other than he might be wondering, like me, where all the other jackdaws have flown.

2.

In the coffee shop the new lad is clearing tables. Excuse me sir, he says to a five-year-old, can I take your empty glass? The little boy looks up and says yes you may take my glass but you may not take my banana bread. He puts a firm little hand over the banana bread. The lad blushes. Of course mate, he says, correcting his tone, enjoy your banana bread - and scoops up the empty glass.

3.

Making abstract shapes in my sketchbook. You are allowed to draw a figure, if you must, I tell myself. I know by now this is my default. She can’t help herself, the faces in the paint whisper. My reply is, as ever, a simple one: oh yes I can help myself. I paint over the page with lavish amounts of pale paint. I place a sheet of scrap paper over the top - quickly press down, lift off. There’s a new authenticity: some of the past is revealed, but not all of it.

4.

Hello Patricia, we found your lime drink. The man says, talking on his phone, crouched down by the bottles. Yes Patricia, the lime, Rose’s lime, and it’s on special offer. Cordial! A woman shouts from the other end of the supermarket aisle. Cordial! Yes, we were wondering if you wanted us to get more than one bottle, as the lime you like is on special offer. Cordial! The woman shouts.

5.

Just lately, for a change of tone, I tune the radio station from classical to nostalgia. As Elvis croons I wonder: what would Virginia Woolf have thought of rock-n-roll? I think, unreasonably, she might have been a huge Elvis fan. I decide the next time she pops in, I will ask her.

6.

Cut price, cut sunflowers. I forgot how head-heavy they can be. I attempt to perch them on top of my groceries - they stick out of the large bag on my shoulder. I leave the supermarket, uncertain of my weight distribution. You are shedding sunflowers! A woman says but does not help me collect them from the path. There’s another one over there! She knows better than to try to wrangle with a sunflower. They squirm about in my hands, refusing to become a neat bunch.

7.

There’s a quickly changing peach sky. It reminds me of so many other peach skies of late summer. The pale husks on the copper horse chestnut tree look like small pears or quinces. Imagine being a tree that can decide what fruit it might bear, from year to year? For the rest of the afternoon I imagine being a tree and what fruit I might yield. Probably something that needs a lot of special preparation that no one these days can be bothered with, but eventually it becomes a niche, cult thing to make pies of my fruit. As I climb into bed I remind myself: you are not a tree.

8.

Down by the river, small children are being brave, stepping down into the water. The river must be warm today because there are few complaints. They scoop nets across the riverbed then pull them up and examine the contents. Poo! A little boy says. The other children laugh. They tip nets full of stones and twigs back into the water.

9.

My teacher is going to be Miss Owlish, the small girl says, sulkily. The woman looks down and frowns. Miss Owlish, the girl repeats, looking up at the woman. The girl’s mother explains: the teacher they call Miss Owlish is really Miss Owen - but the children at the school call her Miss Owlish because - and she uses an index finger to draw a huge circle several times in front of her own face. Oh, the woman nods without seeming to fully comprehend. The mother says to the girl, you must remember not to call her Miss Owlish - not to her face.

10.

Seeing me by the kitchen window my son reminds me not to give the wild birds pet names. They don’t like it, they don’t appreciate it, he explains.

**

photo: an abstract painting I made a few days ago, as a warm-up/prelude to my abstract work over the weeks ahead. I liked how it looked sitting in the sun. We have had some lovely, mild light and weather lately and I am grateful for it. I may add this painting (A3 in size) to my shop this coming Wednesday at a special price.

Thank you for reading here and for subscribing. If you enjoyed reading these notes please let me know by liking (pressing that heart) and you are welcome to leave a comment, or email me. I am always grateful to hear from you. These Sunday notes will always be sent free to everyone who subscribes. If you would like to support my writing further, you might like to become a paid subscriber (I send out additional notes, and occasional videos, midweek) or you might like to buy me a coffee, thank you.