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There is a song by Karine Polwart, the Scottish folk singer songwriter, about Thrift, the little pink flower that clings to the edges of our land. One of the lyrics goes, ‘Thrift’s gift is, Thrift’s grace is, to thrive in harsh places, And show us hardship is a limit not a failing’ I had the good luck […]

I always remember the first time someone bought one of my pieces and said ‘that will look great on my gallery wall’. It’s not a new idea- one of my favourite things about going to my grandmothers house was the slow walk down the stairs, stopping frequently to look at her collection of prints, drawings

This month I’ve watched two beautiful documentary films about artists – ‘Tish’, about the late Tish Murtha, documentary photographer, and ‘Amselm’, Wim Wenders film on Anselm Kiefer (who needs no introduction!). Both films were wildly different and about wildly different people, but interestingly one thread wove it’s way through them both: which was the artists

I’ve always thought of artist’s studios as places of magic- safe and sacred. The way I often think of churches and some kitchens. I always remember going to an exhibition in the Pompidou Centre in Paris in the late ’90s where Brancusi’s studio had been meticulously recreated in the gallery and it thrilled me. Likewise

What is it about the etched line that gets me? I’m still not sure, but I think something to do with the scratched, ragged nature of it. Also, a certain, almost photographic nature to it, the same thing that attracts me to old silver type photos. A certain darkness. Most of my ‘lines’ these days

I know the importance of rest, the trouble is, it’s so hard to enact in this world I live in. Emerging out of the (rather wet) summer holidays, I was starting my run up to leap into all the things I said ‘I’ll do in September’, when, mid-leap, Covid felled me. I seem to get

When I moved to South Bristol in 1998, as a student, the area was run down, cheap to live in, and the only places to go out were small, scary, ‘old man’ pubs. The area’s changed beyond comprehension now. Some might call it gentrification, but there’s certainly a lot to be grateful for in the

Conclusion: Much more of a slog. But still worth it. If you don’t know, the 100 day project invites people to do one thing everyday for 100 days, recording it, or not, on social media, usually Instagram. The idea being that all those little bits of creativity teach you something, and added up, mean something

I recently visited Tate Modern and caught the Maria Bartuszova exhibition. No, I hadn’t heard of her either. It could be that my knowledge of Eastern European 20th century, female artists is lacking. There again, it could be that our collective knowledge of Eastern European, 20th century, female, artists is lacking. The exhibition was a

I was lying in bed, thinking about death- as you do- and imagining looking back over my life. Would it have been a life of selling art or making art? An art business or ‘being an artist’? I suppose the former has ‘grubby’ (why?) connotations of doing things for money, the everyday-ness we all struggle