Doorbells and sleigh bells and schnitzel with noodles

These are, of course, a few of my favourite things. 

I've written about my firing cycle before.  Well, I'm just at the end of a making/firing cycle and had a lustre firing on Wednesday.  Yesterday was unpacking, photographing and then making up some deliveries and today I'm just going to share a few of the things that came out that I particularly like.

So here are some more lizard cereal bowls.  All of these pots are unique but I have returned to certain colourways which have been particularly successful.  On the left is a blue lizard and leaves with red spots, which does look like the first colourway but isn't.  That had silver lustre and this has gold and that one had red spots made with carmine lustre, whereas this has red spots made with red lustre.  The carmine spots had been so successful that I ordered (at some expense) 25g of it to replace the first 5g I'd bought when it ran out.  But then ....  it came out a completely different colour.  Some research suggestst that my first bottle was the weird one and should never have come out as red as it did.  Further research identified another supplier with a different selection of lustres.  Talking it all through with them confirmed that of all the materials potters need to buy, lustres change most often, possibly even every batch is different in some colours.  Ah well.  Something you just have to go with.  So I ordered 5g of red and applied it merrily to pots.  I also accepted samples of tangerine, purple and emerald.

The red, as you see, is lovely and red.  Success.  The purple is ok too, though as I've mentioned before, I already have a dark and light purple which arrive under the pseudonyms of dark and light green.  I had hopes for emerald, but alas, it is only a duller sort of mauve.  The centre bowl above has emerald veins on the leaves.  I think you can just catch the mauve.  There's some on the lizard too, but it works fine.  The one on the right was just another colourway, going for something a bit darker for those who prefer that, and all in all I think it works.

The tangerine is delicious.

Here it is the darker of the leaves, the lighter ones using "real orange" underglaze colour (this time actually used under the glaze) and gold lustre spots.  I love this mug and these colours.  I expect to be using more tangerine.  I also expect to be asking for some more samples of the large number of colours this new supplier has in case some of the others turn out as zingy as the red and tangerine. 

I'm slightly worried about my favourite things, though.  They seem to be lizards, closely followed by ivy, with or without the lizards.  All of which is fine, but does it matter that most of my new work is still dominated by them?  They may be my favourite things but are they everyone else's?  And again, the colours.  If I think back to the wallhangings I've made over the years, my favourites have often been in the red/rust/orange/cream range.  They've sold - eventually -  but I sense that the majority of people like the blue range better.  So should I be planning to go further with the red/tangerine/gold/yellow idea or will I end up with shelves full of pots nobody wants?  My policy has always been to make the work I'm most passionate about, though.  I always said that although I could make patchwork cushions for sale, I never would because I would be bored.  This is the work I do and if you don't like it you don't have to buy it, kind of thing.  On the other hand, of course, if you don't buy anything, I won't make a living, so I do make more commercial decisions.  I work hard at maintaining my stocks of "everyday" designs. I think this means I'll continue to follow my heart so lizards and leaves will be it for a while longer.

And finally, talking of hearts, I wish I'd made more of these:

I've made one with the silver hearts before but really like the gold hearts.  I think they'll go soon, but I'll definitely do some more next year.

Hot and Cold

This is a painfully contrived blog title, for which I apologise. It's on a par with some of the segues they use on The Today Programme on radio 4.  It's the only thing I could come up with in a hurry, the first photo being of frost on a curry plant.  Sorry 'bout that.*  I've become aware that there hasn't been much in the way of photo blogs lately and wanted to put that right, but then what to call it?  Photos?  Perhaps you'd prefer that next time.

* Years ago, when I had more money and more time (some of my working hours were teaching, which paid me much more per hour than making!) I used to attend quite a few poetry events and some of the highlights were readings by the poet Adrian Mitchell, who died in 2008.  I didn't always agree with his politics but I admired his constancy and dedication to trying to right what he saw as the many wrongs of the world.  His readings were the most 'human' of any of the poets I saw.  He seemed to have no 'side' to him - what you saw was what you got.  One of his poems is called "Sorry Bout That".  I was just reminded of it, and him, when putting in the apology for the corny title. 

So in the end, you get a bit more for your money than expected.  Enjoy!

 

Just For The Present

"Just For The Present" is now open!  It will be at the Cotswold Craftsmen Gallery, Market Street, Nailsworth, until 24th November.  Tuesdays - Saturdays, 10.00 - 5.00

Artist's statement

As we develop as artists, our ideas sometimes take on a life of their own and lead us to new discoveries and passions so that we sometimes find ourselves taking surprising roads.  2012 has been a year when I have been following new roads which may themselves lead in directions I haven’t yet imagined.  So, Just For The Present, what you see here is a selection of the work I am making currently. 

This year I’ve returned to my roots in fashion (nearly forty years ago I studied fashion and textiles at college) and I’m delighted to be showing some of my new silk-painted scarves.  Having worked on silk-painting in isolation, I then moved on to give machine embroidery the same treatment and three new pieces portraying lizards are worked entirely in machine stitching with no other added colour.

Lizards seem to have become my theme of the moment in ceramics too as they are ideal subjects for rich decoration.  As well as my tableware ranges, I’m now making more one-off items - mugs, bowls, plates and vases - decorated with individual designs in coloured underglazes, slips, lustres and precious metal lustres. 

Just for the present, these are my preoccupations.  Next year – who knows?

 The Purple Corner!

 

To market, to market

It's the market season for me.  Normally I'm at Stroud Farmers Market a number of times in the autumn; this year I'm branching out and trying elsewhere as well.  Here is my stall at Gloucester Arts and Crafts Market where I was for the first time on 13th October.  You get a big stall in Gloucester - ten feet wide by four foot.  Plenty of room to spread out with a good selection of products, including, for the first time at a market, my scarves and earrings.

Lots of people at Gloucester took leaflets etc, which was part of the point of going - I don't have a 'presence' in Gloucester at the moment.

This last Saturday I was back at Stroud Farmers Market, which I do love.  For one thing it's a great market - masses of choice of meat, fish, cooked food, as well as the obvious vegetables, and always a selection of us craft stalls.  Half of what I sell there is to people who've bought from me before, which is always pleasing.

Next Saturday I'm trying Nailsworth Farmers Market for the first time.  It's a much smaller market, and with very much smaller table space than any others, but has a lovely friendly feel to it so I'm hoping I'll be well received.

If there's room, I'm hoping to do Gloucester and Nailsworth markets again in December (I happen to be busy doing other things on the second and fourth Saturdays in November) and I'll be at Stroud on the first and third Saturdays of November and December.

To market, to market to buy a fat mug

Home again, home again, juggety jug.

La rentrée

In France la rentrée happens every September.  Literally meaning "the return", it means not only the start of a new academic year for schools and colleges but also returning to work after the holiday period.  Much of France still goes on holiday for the month of August.  La rentrée is heralded in supermarkets and other shops with special promotions of stationery, clothes suitable for work in autumn or whatever promotion they can think of in their case and for us it's always a rather early reminder that we'll be heading back to the UK sometime.  This year, because we were so late in going, la rentrée was already plastered everywhere when we arrived, which seemed an unfair reminder that our visit was so short.  I know, I know, five weeks in France doesn't sound short to most people.  But if you're living somewhere rather than holidaying, it is.  Still, you might like to see the last photo I took as we left and compare it with the photo in my last post as it shows we actually did make an impression on the place.

Back to la rentrée (which may be a tautology, but I don't care.)  I really like the concept, as it fits with my approach to life.  I've always related to time in a physical and unconscious way, which I think I've written about here before.  Times of year have reminders for my whole system which I can be quite unaware of until I realise what is happening.  Some, though, like the start of the academic year, are much more conscious.  Until about five years ago part of my life was always organised around the academic year and as well as often feeling it was a chance to do better work in a new academic year, I've always arranged my life around it.  Even my household finance budget is organised from September to August, a throwback to the time when I first took over organising the joint incomes in my first marriage.

Now I'm only involved in my creative work, la rentrée is still a significant time for me.  It marks the beginning of doing more markets and shows and making work specifically for seasonal shoppers.  (I was going to use another word instead of 'seasonal' but decided that September was too early for it.)

This year, in particular, la rentrée is particularly real for me.  I'm back at work.  Nothing all that startling in that, I suppose, but the notable thing is that I'm back at work and I'm well! Only now do I realise how unwell I was and for how long.  It's great to be back.  I've been working on new textiles pieces.  No, you can't see these until my exhibition in October/November, which I will be telling you more about in due course.  I've also been making new stock of earrings.  First a new design, stripey triangles, designed to go with the triangle scarf design:

And then a new colour range, which I hope will be popular for the autumn.  Black is the new black.

Still here

Some time in the last week or so I realised that my last blog post warned of forthcoming surgery and that so much time had elapsed since the surgery date that it would be reasonable to ask if everything had gone ok.

It has, thank you for asking.  A GP I wasn't all that keen on once redeemed himself considerably by telling me that getting doctors to agree about something was like trying to herd cats.  It was good to have this in mind a week after my surgery when, although things had gone fine, I clearly wasn't fully recovered.  Why would I be?  Well, because the first surgeon I had seen (before the operation) had told me that within a week or ten days I would be completely back to normal.  No other doctor I've asked since can imagine why he said that, but he did, so it was always in the back of my mind in a sort of "but the surgeon said so" kind of way.  Eventually, I've remembered the unherded cats and felt better about things.

So although I'm still not completely recovered, I'm still here.  In a manner of speaking.  Actually, just at the moment I'm there rather than here, if you see what I mean, since I'm somewhere else.  All clear now?  Good.

And we were very pleased to find that here is still here, also.  Hiding behind two summers' worth of growth,  but here nevertheless.  This is more or less (more trailer, slightly less grass) what we saw when we arrived.

It's not much different now, to be honest, and we're not planning to try to make up for two summers in a few short weeks, but so far there have been no major disasters.  Since we arrived the weather has been kind (though I see some rain is expected tomorrow) and I've more or less finished the essential cleaning and unpacking.  I am, eventually,  after what seems like many years but is really only two, getting a break.  I'm eating what I feel like eating, sitting and reading and generally just listening to the wildlife and hope to be doing more of that in the next week or so.  I think it's what people call a holiday.

I'm beginning to think I was actually more unwell and for longer than I thought I was, considering the exclamations of "Oh, you look well!" that I've been hearing from all sorts of people.  Certainly I had a year of increasing stress, followed by a few months of less stress, followed by starting to feel more unwell, followed by quite a few months of feeling ill and not being able to work full time.  Although I say I am not fully recovered (and not yet back working), I'm only talking about the body.  As a person I feel like myself again.  And I do rather like it.

I do, of course,  have work with me. Not to mention the current stock in my online shop, so that it is still fully operational.

Oh, did I not mention that I have a super spiffy new website complete with online shop?  Sorry.  Well, I do.

Do go and take a look, if you haven't already.  http://www.clothandclay.co.uk

What's in a blog?

Well, what should be in a blog?  I guess it depends on why you set it up in the first place.  I started blogging because I enjoy writing and showing off my photos.  I wanted somewhere to put news so that family who live elsewhere could see things we'd been doing, like the greenhouse project.  I wanted to be able to write about my work so that customers could find out a little more about me if they were interested.  And I wanted to be able to just share things widely when I felt like it.

There.  Like that.

Actually, the sort of things I really meant were perhaps recipes, book reviews or other topics which interest me.   It's ok, I'm coming to the point.  What I never really wanted to do was use the blog as a personal/public journal.  I hope people like to read it, though I sense that the friends who started off reading every post may not read it at all now.  In any case, though, I do want people to feel it might be worth coming back to see what I've got to say next so I have tried to avoid writing when I've got nothing positive to say.  Which is why the blog has been more sparsely written of late, to be honest, and I decided it was time to say something about this, without moaning too much if possible.

I have been suffering the ill-effects of gallstones and I am due to have my gallbladder removed next week.  There will be some weeks of recovery from surgery but then I hope to feel considerably better.  And about time, too!  It was a long time before a diagnosis and the knock-on effects of not being well enough to work a full week since Christmas have been widely felt.  With regard to this blog, when I've felt well, I've snatched the chance to do some work and when I've felt ill, well, as I say, I just didn't want to write when things just felt gloomy and I had nothing positive to say.   There, hardly a moan at all, but now you know.

And the weather hasn't helped.  Well, quite.  And here I'm not even going to try to avoid moaning.  I do try to be phlegmatic about weather.  We live in a climate with seasons and I'm usually comfortable with that, indeed, I've written quite a few happy blog posts on the subject at different times of the year.  But the last three months' weather has been just dire-bollockle.  The sun is shining now, it's July and approximately eight o'clock in the morning, so I would expect to be able to sit with the door open, letting in the warmth.  If I do open the door, though, a howling gale sweeps through the study.  As it is, I am sitting here tense with being not quite warm enough.

And the garden!  The vegetables don't know whether they're coming or going.  Well, the squashes are definitely going.  In the two months they've been out in the garden they haven't grown at all, the flower buds they had are still flower buds and the leaves are turning yellow.  No squashes for us this year.  The fleece over the leeks (to prevent leek moth) is being torn by the wind.  The beans are holding their own, making their way up the poles at about a quarter of their normal speed.  Fair enough, the spinach is growing well and I suppose the leaves on the root vegetables probably indicate that the roots themselves are swelling up.  But the onions!  Some of them are flowering!  What's that about?

I don't ever remember a spell of weather as bad as we've been having.  I don't know a single person who isn't fed up and saying so, and considering the number of cheerful, practical, back-to-nature types I know, that really is surprising.

So there.  Some legitimate moaning.  We all do it and the weather has given us plenty of cause.  You don't really need to know that some of the time I've been moaning, it's been about something else.