Love struck, mad March hare.

Mad March Hare by Sharon.

Pewter Repousse £60

Please note that each picture is hand done and will vary especially in the details and patination.

Good Days

You get to the end of some days and think: Now that was a good day to have in my life.

Sunday, my Cambridge Market day, was like that. I got up early, got out early. I drove sedately through the maze of back lanes that take me to the A1. I did not meet a single other vehicle in fifteen miles.

I did, however, see a lot of hares. They dashed along the verge and then darted into the fields. I could sense the vitality in their movements. There's a magical essence in them that can't be adequately caught in words.

Sharon has been doing some hare pewter pictures recently. I'll scan one and post it next time I write this blog. She captures something of that crazy, mystical quality I sensed as I watched the hares on my drive.

As I was driving along I listened to Radio 4 Something Understood which this week featured writer Christie Dickason on coping with the unexpected. She illustrated this with music and poetry, including Louis Armstrong singing and a poem by Pablo Neruda, and reflections on her own epilepsy. Something Understood is delightful and inspiring. It's a wonderful antidote to the drivel that most radio programmes consist of. Try it.

I could write pages on all the other details that made my day a good day. Many of them wouldn't seem very spectacular. They were little things: the nice cappuccino I got from Ben, the sunlight on Saint Mary the Great's Church, the chit chat with customers, the chip butty I ate at the Wheel Inn when I got back, the fact that I'd earned some money by selling some nice items that Sharon had made which included a nice pair of silver and copper heart earrings and several small mirrors... I could go on. There were so many little details that felt good. All these things added up to a good day, a day worthy of being in my life or anybody else's life.

So... have a good day yourself!

A Cold Wet but Cosy Day in July. Part 2.

A Cold & Wet but Cosy Day in July.

It's Saturday. I should be at my post opposite 'Ye Olde Pork Pie Shoppe' in Melton Mowbray. But it's pelting it down outside so I'm indoors and am starting to feel fidgety and guilty for not doing something more useful than drinking tea and reading my new book Mysterious Wisdom: The Life of Samuel Palmer by Rachel Campbell.

It's a wonderful biography about an artist we both love. Palmer taps into the mystical currents that infuse the English landscape that inspire us and so many other creative people to paint, dance, sing, compose music, bake bread [Sharon's in the kitchen making a sour dough loaf], write bad poetry [me], do all kinds of craft work. This landscape with its old churches, stone circles, barrows, ancient oaks and meadows needs not only to be preserved -it's more than just a decorative feature for holiday brochures- but to be lived. We need to keep it alive by living it not just living in it.


Last night we watched Julien Temple's film on Dave Davies of the Kinks, Kingdom Come. I love the way that the classic English rock bands, like the Kinks, are so deeply rooted in the English landscape. 'Deeply rooted' is not a cliche in this context, it's hardly even a metaphor. In the film the presence of Exmoor was huge and marvelous and seemed to empower Dave. In fact I was afraid it might overpower him.

Outside our garden and the fields beyond it are sodden with rain. But in no way is it depressing. The trees and hedgerows are swaying in the breeze. They are lush and green and buzzing with life. And I am off for another cup of tea and a slice of Sharon's bread

The Trauma of Writing Artists' Statements

I've been sitting at the computer trying to write a an 'Artist's Statement' for Sharon for over an hour now and have not managed to produce a single coherent sentence. It's just so hard to get the right tone without coming across as pompous, egotistical, bland or cliched. I've written a few words, deleted, written a few more, deleted. I've stared at my hands and wondered about the damage gardening has done to my skin. I've examined the interesting patterns coffee cups have made on the table top. I've checked out news sites to see what the latest on the Murdoch story [personal view: he should be incarcerated in the Tower of London and dealt with in a Medieval manner]. I've meandered around Blogspots. I've checked out the weather forecast [rain in Melton on Saturday, damn it!]. I've Googled this and that and found my way to a Daily Mail article on Pauline Quirke's diet success. Why? I don't like the Daily Mail and only have a vague idea of who Ms. Quirke is. And now I'm doing a blog entry, another evasion, but at least it's writing and my justification is that if I do this I'll eventually get 'focused' and produce a statement that will astound the world.



Last night Sharon and I actually attended a seminar on 'Artist's Statements' in organised by 'Creative Leicestershire'. It was very reassuring to know that other 'creatives' [a word that has emerged from somewhere for folk that do creative stuff] have the same problems that we do in putting into words what we offer to people. I know now that all over the country 'creatives' are 'distraction Googling ' rather getting on with the job of writing their Statements. But that knowledge doesn't help get the job done does it? I'd better get on with it!

The Oak Leaf of Inspiration.

People sometimes ask: where do you get your inspiration from. Here's one place: an oak leaf. This will end up that will end up in one of Sharon's pictures.

I picked it up last winter and made a drawing of it. It's marvelous how each oak leaf is unique yet is recognisably from an oak leaf template. I'd like to make some ecstatic noises about this. But I'm British and we don't do wonder very well.

A cold day in July.

Today the weather outside is cold, blustery and wet. It reminds me of the summers I endured when I was child in Scotland when a trip to the beach reduced you to blue, goose pimpled misery. I missed Stamford Market today because of conditions outside, which is a pity because I like going to Stamford. It's a beautiful town full of lovely old limestone buildings. I have good neighbours on the stalls around me. On my left is Rainbow, an elegant Chinese lady who sells silk scarves. On my right is Brian who sells second hand records, sorry, I should say collectible records. He specialises in old Blues, R & B and Jazz. He's worth a visit if you have interests in these areas of music. He buys and sells at very fair prices.

So here I am at home. Sharon is in the kitchen working on new designs, the cats are complaining because I've given them,the wrong cat food, and I'm feeling a bit guilty because I've been reading my latest books from Amazon. Time I got on with something useful like writing this blog.

Our Open Studio was an enjoyable event. We mix business with pleasure. That's our style. We like what we sell. We like selling it. We like our customers. Most of them seem to like us. We make a living. We enjoy what we do. That's wonderful! Thank you to everyone who has bought from us!

I feel sorry that so many people don't derive pleasure and satisfaction from what they do for a living. When I did counselling work a few years ago I encountered so many tales of workplace misery that I was quite shocked; so I am so grateful to all our customers who make our very pleasant way of earning our living possible. Incidentally I am considering working as a counsellor again. I'm being prompted by one of our Cambridge customers to do something in this area. More on this soon.

I meant to put up some of Sharon's new designs but need to twiddle around with photos and computers before I can do this. They are in silver and copper and have a lovely warm feel to them. I'll make them visible soon! In the meantime I'll post this.

Phil