I know that I am not struggling half as much with lockdown as some. I know that I am one of the lucky ones and that, for me, this time means more peace and quiet, less charging about and more time to create. If I am honest though, it isn’t as simple as that. So I am extremely grateful to have been asked to work on a couple of specific projects in the last few weeks: things to focus the mind and stop it raging back and forth over all the issues we, and I, face.
First one of the galleries which stocks my work approached me to ask about the practicalities of making a range of upmarket desk sets. This has been a real joy! Somehow creating on a small scale seemed to be just the thing: I needed to find some purpose again and small felt good.
Designing and making inkwells has been giving me so much joy
Then, a few days ago I was contacted by a man who wanted a special birthday present for his wife. He had seen my work in a gallery and wondered if I could use clay from his garden to make a commission for her. The house was not far and so I agreed to a socially distanced site visit. The garden was large and wild with a wonderful selection of materials. A soft grey clay with a fantastic texture; tiny pebbles lay on the bed of a stream like jewels; further down, in the woods, the clay was a deep reddish brown and it sucked at my wellies as a walked. Armed with a trowel and a fistful of sandwich bags I waded in and soon had a vast selection of materials to add to the porcelain which forms the main structure of my work.
The rhythmic scraping of the clay to reveal the strata of colour and to perfect the shape of the piece as it dries is always absorbing.
Today I have been fettling the first piece for this commission. Time has passed in a dream state. I realise, with some surprise, that I had spent the entire morning not thinking about anything other than clay. I feel restored!
I was just sitting here staring at two of your beautiful pieces and then looking through the Photobox book of your evocative boxes … so I decided to find you on the internet and read this thoughtful post. How lovely to be lost in your work : and how restorative. And how lucky we are to be able to do our work at this very strange time in all our lives. (I couldn’t work at all at the beginning, but I’m back to it now.) Today – this evening – your work strikes me as deeply thoughtful but also full of dreams.
with love from your old haunt in Roehampton, Angela
What a lovely comment! Thank you so much for all your support.