Brambles and Rust

More Eco dye experiments over on my Flickr stream.

Felting Landscapes

I find myself really excited by the prospect of a trip to Orkney this coming weekend! The last summer I went on a road trip to the Isle of Lewis it resulted in this felt  piece, depicting Callanish III.

I love old places where the length of time that humanity has been here in Scotland sings out in spite of the best efforts of wind and weather, time and neglect.

This time I hope to get to Skara Brae and some of the Orkney stone circles, such as The Ring of Brodgar, as well as visiting as many artists studios as possible!

Lewisian Gneiss

Callanish III through the rushes

Callanish III on Lewis

I have hundreds of photos from my trip to Lewis last summer, a goldmine of inspiration for years to come... I hope to have a repeat of this for my Orkney trip!

Callanish I

Rethinking and reinventing

It's been a long time since I last blogged, somehow more than a year has slipped past! I am having a rethink about what I do, my business name and way of working, how it's been affected now I'm studying full time and what changes I may or may not want to make. I have decided to rename my blog as the name "A' Manner O' Things" was a stop-gap name until I knew how I wanted it to be! I have also been questioning the name of my mother and I's business Diva Designs - it just doesn't say anything about what we do, what we are about! I had an eureka moment last night; driving home through the fragrant summer dusk I suddenly knew that I want to call my business Fibre Alchemy! It says it all for me - what else is felting but a magic alchemical-like process of transformation? Turning piles of fluff into a firm but flexible fabric through lavish applications of soapy water and elbow grease!

My local organic flock of Gotlands, a 15 min walk from my front door.

Cap felted with Gotland fleece (from the above flock) and some silk tops

Magic huh? What better name for this process than Fibre Alchemy :)
This is how I want to work: using local, organic materials sourced from within walking distance of my studio and making one of a kind creations that feed the soul of the wearer. I want to work in a way that is truly sustainable and ethical, using only hight quality materials and clean processes and making beautiful, practical and affordable art to wear. I am not all the way there yet, but it's something to aim for!

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!

Creative meanderings and Happy New Year!

Winter Hearth

My creativity seems to be hibernating, perhaps it's the cold and darkness; I always find my self wanting to curl into a dark warm nest at this time of year. I should love to write a long and entertaining post about the importance of giving yourself creative time off, but I'm  too busy curling up by the fire and reading  'Wintersmith' by Terry Pratchett! This is one of my favourite books by one of my favourite authors, and like all books I love, I can read it again and again and find more and more depth and meaning each time I read it.

Yes, time to sit and dream, poke the slumbering fire and read good books is vital to replenishing creativity. I have always found fire to be restorative and nurturing, and never more so than in the deep dark of winter. Here in the North of Scotland there seems to be an awful lot of dark - the sun doesn't manage to climb above the southern hills till after 8:00 in the morning and it's away back down again by 3:30

It's New Year's Eve and the sun has gone down and the wind is blowing colder now, my little white Christmas lights are reflecting in the windows as the last of the light drains out of the day. I like to spend some time on New Year's Eve musing about the past year and weighing up my progress against what I hoped it would be. The tally isn't too bad this year, I have been pushing myself to grow and learn, trying to leave behind the patterns I have grown out of (or should have grown out of but haven't!) and learning new tricks as I'm definitely not an old dog yet! As an artist one of the big challenges is organisation and orderliness, and although chaos runs rampant around me on my desk, I do at least know where most things actually are! I am gradually training myself into putting things back where they belong once I have finished with them - it makes life SO MUCH EASIER if tools and materials have a place to belong and are to be found in that place! I think that is my biggest New Year's Resolution - try and be tidy, put things away! If there is too much chaos in my life I find it clogs my creativity, my joy and my motivation. It takes less time than one would think to put shoes away as you take them off, or put the pens back in their pot once you have finished drawing.... Yes I may wear them or use them tomorrow - or I may not! Either way it's better now if they are where they belong.

My favourite walk is just two minutes' stride from my studio

Another resolution - I am going to spend some time outside EVERY DAY. Even if it's only 10 minutes, I need daylight and fresh air as much as I need to breathe. Some times I get so involved with creativity that I forget to stop and go for a little walk, rest my eyes on the green distances and MOVE! BREATHE! I need to look after my physical self - as I ask such a lot of my body it's only fair to be a good owner. And after all, you only get one, it's a precious resource. I have had a habit of ignoring it as much as possible and far more than is sensible - injuring my hands by continuing a job until it's finished even though I have wrenched something badly; crouching over my work table with my nose 6 inches from what I am doing for so long that I can barely stand up once I have finished 3 or 4 hours later; forgetting to drink any water for a day or two then wondering why I have a head ache... Yes this year I need to learn to take care of my body or it will clap out on my well before I have finished with it! There are just so many interesting things to do that I want to keep my body in as good a working order as I can for as long as I can. I am aware that I want to learn and do more things than I can possibly fit into one life time as it is! This is such a wonderful world and there are so many exciting things to learn!

Now I am going to go and stoke the fire, mull some home made elderberry wine and fish out some bees wax to do an intriguing old bit of fortune telling with! At Midnight we will open all the doors to let the Old Year out and the New Year in - and so we will welcome 2012. I wish you a beautiful New Year yourself, and may it be a blessed and wondrous year for the whole world.

This is Craig Valley - Home - and I hope to re-visit this, my favourite place in the whole world in 2012

Made by Hand and Music for Monday

My favourite things...

This is going to be a long and meandering thought journey, I can feel it coming on! Follow if you will!
All the things in this picture are hand made, except perhaps the knife, and even that is vintage. I use these things, and others like them, every day and I want to tell you what it is about them that makes them enrich my life and why I love them and feel that hand made is important.
In the photo is a collection of rather humble things that I snapped one morning, just because I liked the light and the random composition, as I was sitting down to breakfast. The table was my great Grandmother's, the knife my Grandmothers, the mug was one I bought new from a local potter and the rush mats I made my self some years ago with rushes I gathered from a lovely lochan that I lived near. The plate and pot I found on one of my regular hunts through a charity shop, a surprisingly good hunting ground for hand made.
What made me suddenly want to write about them was (prosaically) making a cup of herb tea - as I reached out and took down my lovely mug, a sudden jolt of delight went through me at the shape and texture of it in my hand, a small reminder from my senses of just how much joy it gives me to use this perfect (to me) mug. Why? Just why does the shape of this mug please my hands so? Is it because someone else made it with loving careful hands and joy in the making? I can picture to myself the meditative concentration of Brian the potter as his big hands flowed the clay from unresponsive inert lump into graceful and somehow living form. He has a very grounded and peaceful way of being and that is somehow embodied in his pottery. I never usually think about who made this mug, so that is only a tiny facet of the joy it gives me.
If I think about my great Granny's table it's a very different story - I have no idea who made it, not a clue! It's a wonky old thing, there are cracks in the top, scars all over, the top even comes right off if you try to lift the table up; but I love it. It has been scrubbed so often that the grain of the wood is weathered into ribs and the knots are polished shiny smooth. I think it's the years of continuity and history that make me love this table - there is something special in knowing that my Mum sat here as a child visiting her grandma, and my Grandmother before her grew up eating every meal at it. I too was pulled up to this table in my high chair when I was little, and perhaps, if I am lucky, my own daughter will sit at it one day...

key

I think it's time to stop rambling on now so I will leave you with a little hand made music from the wonderful Dougie MacLean.