On a cold night there is a certain pleasure in stepping out of a warm bed in bare feet onto polished oak floor-boards, feeling the contrast against my skin as I reach for the chamber pot in the darkness. The floor is uneven, sloping back from the window towards the centre of the house, a soft glow of the light below filtering through the gaps. It is an old house, built in 1530 they say, it has settled slowly onto its rocky outcrop at the top of a hill, a gentle slope on one side, a precipitous drop into the ravine on the other. The house creaks and moves, I am not alone here, there are rare bats who flit silently through the shadows leaving only the tiniest traces of their visits. There are other diminutive creatures sharing my little blue bedroom and its red framed window. Moths fly up when I disturb the covers, spiders extrude their sticky webs across my brushes left unused on the window sill. Now and then I think I hear scamperings, perhaps my brother’s dog or a mouse searching for spilled biscuit crumbs.
The fine white sheets feel smooth as satin, the crumbling blue plaster reminds me of half forgotten dusty corners from my childhood, I feel at peace, protected from the outside by the warnings of the quartet of geese. At last the sun edges in through the un-curtained window, filling the eaves with warmth and the raking light revealing the layers of distemper and plaster stretching back in time.
At the other end of the day as the sun is setting, the last rays snatch the chance to seep through the play of leaves and leading in the window to charm me with a display of dappled fire on the rough plaster of the living room wall. The spiders have been here too but have scurried away into the dark alcove where Puss escapes for some peace.
For the last year or so I have been directing my creativity towards painting, sculpture and creative writing. Designing and making jewellery has been my main occupation for some 10 years now but the time has come to follow other paths. The jewellery shown here will be the last pieces I make barring commissions, so if you like bold, geometric, sculptural jewellery, take a look at my collections and visit my online shop.
I found these 1950’s/160’s Cocktail glasses in an antique shop in Essex and the Salt at an exhibition of crafts in Clerkenwell, London. The glasses were ridiculously cheap and the salt was not expensive. The glasses are perfectly weighted, the stems are gilded glass, not a metal cone as I had thought when I first glanced them in a showcase. I have not identified the make yet, let me know if anyone recognises them. The salt it is mouth-blown glass intricately hand-engraved with plant forms by Katherine Coleman.
A recent visit to the marina in Swansea offered up such delights, boat hulls, railings, brickwork, an endless rippling reflection of intense colours. The whole area has been transformed from the working harbour docks when it was no doubt dark and noisy and any colour suffused by coal dust. There are numerous shiny modern yachts moored here now but also just a few memories of its previous incarnation, the massive stone docks, gates and lift bridges.
Reflections of white numbers and the red hull of the ship Star of India in San Diego Harbour. The water looks so oily and yet the reflection of the numbers is still so white. Because the ship is permanently moored, green algae is growing along the water-line which gives that green line.
I particularly noticed the jumble of lines in this photo, the variety of colours, angles and textures, just wish I’d used a smaller aperture to increase the depth of field so it was all in focus.