Gallery Time

I have been in the gallery all weekend  and it has been such fun!  We are having a sale to celebrate the fact that we have now been here for six months.  People have flocked through the door to admire the work and enjoy a few nibbles.  The Persian restaurant next door kindly gave us a plate of deliciousness to hand out and one of the team made a couple of plates of brownies which are frankly to die for so I am trying to ignore them today.

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The window of Klaylondon in Camden ready for our summer sale.

Personally I am having a fabulous time sales-wise but I am also getting great joy from selling the work of our other artists and I am enjoying the fact that people who come into the gallery are now saying things like ‘I bought something from you a month ago and I had to come back’.  Maybe Klaylondon has arrived to stay!  We certainly feel more permanent than pop-up now.

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Sold! Magpie by Gemma Wyllie and large vessel by Isvan Szabo

A Punting We Will Go . . .

Cambridge_-_Punting_in_Cambridge_-_1690[1]Cambridge, a summers day, sunlight filtering through willow trees – get the picture?  Well what else would one do but take a punt and go up the river to Grantchester for a picnic in the meadows?  It simply has to be done.  And so we did it.  Despite the cross wind, which made the punting awkward even for hardy boating types, we got to the meadows and settled down to share our feast.  The punt was tethered by its pole but not tethered enough it would seem as, only a few olives into the hors d’oeuvres it gently drifted from its resting place and took off across the river.

Enter the nephew – a strapping young lad – who leaped to his feet, plunged into the river and recovered our (un)trusty vessel.  Everyone was full of praise. delighted that our return trip to the city was no longer in jeopardy and handing him an extra piece of sausage for his troubles.  I, on the other hand, was staring at his legs.  He was covered in the most exquisitely smooth looking clay!  muddy feet 2[1]

In a flash the cheese had been removed from the safety of its sandwich bag and I was down on all fours in front of my nephew’s feet.  The next thing I knew, his father took pity on him and, in order to prevent the embarrassment of having your aunt scraping the mud off your legs with a butter knife, said father grabbed the bag and hot-footed it down to the river bank returning with a deliciously glutinous mass; cold to the touch and wonderfully squashy.

I am reliably told that in the Cambridge University Engineering Department, the mathematical models for soil are categorised from gravel to sand to silt to clay.  At the two ends of the spectrum they decided to develop mathematical behaviours for ‘Granta Gravel’ and ‘Cam Clay’.  To be honest, this may be of huge importance to the world of soil mechanics but as far as I am concerned I am simply agog to know how it is going to behave in my kiln.