The Wings of Imagination

'Give me wings that I might fly'

Caught on a sunbeam

My wings in their final position over my bed

After hours and hours of work my wings are finally finished. This photo shoot was done at a local beach where there are some magic caves and cliffs.

Work in progress

Free machining on silk

Dye vat with birch bark

Dyed fabrics with free machined feathers. Still more work to do....

Summer in March?

Some days you just have to head outside, and what better way to spend an evening than by cooking your dinner on a small fire as the birds sing the sun down and the flames get brighter as the new moon and the first star appear. It was so warm tonight; perhaps this is the only "summer" we will have this year, you just never know in Scotland!

I find sitting by a fire with the fragrance of wood-smoke and the quiet crackle and hiss of the flames very very peaceful. It educes deep sighs of contentment and a peaceful dreaminess.

I plan on building a clay pizza oven here, and all the old bricks are collected up for it's floor.... But this being Scotland, I have to build a shelter for my oven first, as the clay won't be fired enough to withstand the quantity of rain we get. I have a beautiful design in mind, the dry-stone plinth is built already, along with a work bench to one side, an open fire pit on the other then stone benches to make the remaining sides of my semi-hexagonal out-door cooking and eating place. Next step is a roof on round wood pilers... I'm not quite so hot on the wood-work front! Love clay, love dry-stoning, but joinery? Um, any volunteers?

Nights like this one make me realise just how much I want my oven finished. Perhaps this year?

February

Sunlight on Water

There have been some beautiful bright days recently. I sat by the Findhorn River and watched the light dance on the water and listened to the birds singing as the sun warmed my knees. It was a brief but much needed respite from the chaos reigning in our studio at the moment. We are having a huge change around and there are builders at work removing one wall and making another. We have had to pack EVERYTHING from one room into the other so that dust and grit doesn't get into all our baskets of fibre...

Last week I had a lovely sunny day for my day off so I went for a beautiful ramble through the woods out the back of the house and gathered rushes to make something special...
At the beginning  of February is St Bride's Day, traditionally celebrated on the 1st of Feb. It's an old Highland and Irish festival with strong Celtic Christian/Pagan roots. I have only been aware of it since I moved to this area as it is celebrated in the Findhorn Foundation.

 It was like coming home to someone I knew to find the Goddess/Saint Bride or Bridget, and her celebration has been an important part of my year ever since. On the Western Isles one of the old, old traditions was to make a Brideag (Little Bridget), a doll-like figure of straw.

Bride's Niche

Over on the East and in the present day I was introduced to the Brideag (sounds like Bree-og) as a guardian figure made of green rushes and wrapped in a cloth. Blue is sacred to Bride and I use a blue silk scarf that belonged to my beloved Granny.







Anyhow, what has all this got to do with creativity? Other than the obvious fact that I spend a blissful hour or two gathering and plating rushes in a very creative style!  I find that time spent doing a gentle yearly ritual, like this re-creation of the Little Bride, is exceedingly nurturing. It anchors me to the year in a very natural way and I find such obscure festivals easier to relate to than more commercialised ones like Christmas or Valentine's day. This year I missed the story telling and candle-lit festivities in the Universal Hall at Findhorn , I even missed the day itself as I was so busy with changing the studio round that I FORGOT that it was St Bride's Day! For me this is almost like forgetting that it's Christmas! When I remembered, a few days later, I also remembered that all the old Celtic festivals were originally anchored not to a specific date but rather to the tides of the natural world. The Snowdrops were only just coming out in my garden, so hay! it's the right time to celebrate!

I leave you with a snippet of sound and sight from my interlude by the Findhorn river.

The Key to the Kingdom and the hunt for inspiration.....

Trying out ideas

 Once upon a time I saw the title to a poem in the front of a book: "This is the Key to the Kingdom, Of the Kingdom this is the Key". It made my heart leap in anticipation and hope, and I raced to the right page to learn, well, SOMETHING magic..... Alas, it wasn't what the title promised, rather, it was more like "This Is The House That Jack Built". What a let down. I closed the book in a huff. For years that first line/title has haunted me with it's promise and has hovered round me tauntingly. If only someone had written the REAL poem that belongs to that phrase. Then one day, with those lines floating and flaunting themselves round my head, I curled up in bed with my favourite pen and writing-in book and I pinned them to the page and followed them to the end of the poem that should have been. This is what emerged:

This is the Key to the Kingdom, of the Kingdom this is the key
This is the Door that the Key unlocks in a high stone wall that none can scale
This is the Garden behind that Door, all tangled and wild with vine and briar
This is the Well at the heart of the Garden, deep and cool and clear
Neath the lip of the Well all hidden in ferns, lies a Box of gold all covered with jewels
Within that box there is a key that unlocks the way to worlds untold
This is the Key to the Kingdom, of the Kingdom this is the Key

I was extremely chuffed with myself over this wee poem at the time, then one day with the lines dancing  round my head as I worked on a stubborn commission I had a realisation. This poem tells of the impossible situation of an artist trying to grasp the inspiration (symbolised by the key) that is locked away behind that stubborn door - all you can get by peering through the key-hole is the barest glimpse of the wonders beyond, and to open the door to that magic realm, you need that blasted key that is INSIDE!!!!!!! So this is the posture of the artist - on bended knee with eye glued to the key-hole of the magic realm begging the key to open the door wide. And some times, some wonderful, magical, mind-blowing times, the door opens a crack and you get this wondrous gust of inspiration washing over you... The only thing to do then is RUN! as fast as you can, to the drawing board, the paint brush, the fleece and hold on with all your might to that fading dream and do your very best to pour it out onto the work table so that you can share it with others. And then, if you are lucky, it all flows - magic happens. It's worth all the hard work, the times that are like kneeling before the key-hole trying to make out a glimpse of something worth showing to the world.

Playing with different ways of using a motif

I have been on my knees an awful lot recently as I struggle with finding inspiration from a source that doesn't inspire me. But it has worked I think, that door opened the tiniest crack and something beautiful slipped out and into my mind. And I caught it too! On the 5th of Feb I have to show my client the possibilities that I have come up with and let her chose what direction she would like me to take the commission. Scary. But at least I now feel I have something worth showing her!