Shelter: the finished piece

Building Shelter

 Degree show set up with my wonderful mum as a second pair of hands

Sampling Fleece

top to bottom: 1, 2, 3.

 Felting trials to see which fleece felts best and the different qualities: texture, colour, density, and ease of felting.

Fleece 1 felt wonderful when it was un-felted but was very hard to felt well.

Fleece 2 was quite wiry and was nearly as hard to felt as #1.

Fleece 3 felted like a dream with the same amount of rubbing and rolling as the other two.

L to R 1, 2, 3.

Very Wild Berry Mead

Raw local honey
Blaeberries (Vaccinium myrtillus)
Brambles (Rubus fruticosus)
Geans (Prunus avium)
Ling Heather flowers (Calluna vulgaris)
Water
Wild yeasts from all of the above

The alchemy of wild fermentation transforming and interweaving these wild ingredients into The Blood of Life

The smell wafting from the airlock is promising, the outcome utterly unpredictable and unrepeatable... Only time will tell if this is something wonderful or something minging!

Warp-weighted loom

My warp-weighted driftwood loom has been part of my practice for ages now, but has been rather in the background for some time. On bringing it back into my studio after the summer away I decided to finish weaving the length of fabric as I no longer need it part done in my installation. I am really smitten with the colour and texture of my hand-spun Zwartble yarn, and the warm, live feel of it under my hands from the tensioning.

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 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!

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.