Signs

From a previous post you will know that we opened our shop long before we had created a sign or even decided on a name. After much debate we have ended up with something very simple in appearance but something which has had quite an impact. Our little shop has been  inconspicuous and is now being noticed. As people pass by, more now, stop to look. Those who  enter  do so with confidence rather than with the anxious air of someone who may be about to stray into private property by mistake. All good stuff.

This is the wardrobe that came on Saturday. I am undecided as to what I should do with it or as to what it could become.
 I feel very strongly that it should be a portal to some magical land.  In a way there is a strong chance that it will lead to a new landscape in that I am tempted to rearrange my whole working space, which in turn means rearranging a large portion of the shop, so that this  commodious beauty can house and render invisible much of my creative clutter.

Marmite....you either love it or hate it

It was a very gratifying day in the shop yesterday. Someone came in and, without much ado, bought the green and burgundy chest of drawers. I have referred to it several times as the marmite chest. You either love it or hate it. I happen to love it and obviously so did the lady who bought it. I always feel a pang of loss when I sell something that I have made and that I love!  How contrary!
Hot on the heels of these mixed emotions of delight and sorrow came the concern about where the next lovely piece of furniture would come from to fill the void. I kid you not but the very next person to walk through the door offered me a 1930's wardrobe with leaded glass panels in the doors.
That made me think about the flow of the universe. How synchronicity occurs. And I am still thinking about it.

The most damning critic is the one inside

 I do think a lot. I think, I think too much. My thoughts go around and around. I think in images quite a lot and for some time now I have pictured my thoughts like the ducks on a shooting stall at a fair. Those ducks go around and around. Only two or three are visible at a time. As each new one appears one drops down out of sight. To my ears that doesn't sound too healthy but in these days of frantic activity and pressure I assume it is not a situation peculiar to me.

As part of the creative process it is necessary to capture thought, that's where the sketchbook comes in. And just as necessary to edit and filter what gets splurged across the pages. This week I made a                          conscious decision to forgo the editing and dispense with the filter. I have been aware of two differing impulses for generating work: the impulse for creating that which will sell and the impulse to make something just because.....

These images, then, are the results of my weeks labours.

This is Cecily. I bought her from a charity shop for 50p! She was laying head down among cars and odd bits of lego. I loved her instantly which is kind of bewildering and I have made her,as yet,  just one shoe...oh and a party dress for the coming season. Don't ask me why because I cannot tell you and if I stop to think about it I can think of many reasons why not.  But, I think that answers all my questions about the nature of creativity.

One thing leads to another.

Twelve months ago a friend expressed a desire to make presents for Christmas and as she had no crafting experience or confidence she needed help and support to do so. Out of this was born a small group who met once a month, in the shop, to get creative together.
 It has to be said that we have drunk a lot of wine and nibbled a lot of nibbles but the fact that we have kept it going is testament to the huge satisfaction there is to be had in creativity.  
On Friday we had our Christmas party and that same friend presented me with the little piece of loveliness in this photograph. Not sure who was more delighted! Me to receive something handmade with love and attention or she who had surpassed her own expectations as to what she could achieve.
I have spoken to other friends who talk,in tones reminiscent of the confessional or the therapists couch, about a desire to make things. What it might mean to them to get reacquainted with their playful creative selves, one even said she knew it would change her life! 
They wistfully remember the creative play of childhood followed by what they deem to be years of no creative output whatsoever. Sideswiping, of course, childbearing, rearing, and homemaking. And these women who can be so confident, strident even, in their professional and or domestic lives become timorous little fluff bunnies in the face of their latent desire to be creative held in bondage to their total terror at not knowing where to begin.  This arouses strong passions in me. Sadness. Frustration. Anger, even, at all that exists which serves to corral or suppress the creative spirit.
 Consequently I am planning workshops in the New Year. ' Creativity for the terrified'.

A tiny bit of loveliness

Finally the Christmas window is finished. Not the best photo but hey ho! Or should that be ho, ho, ho! Feelin' Christmassy! It's the Christmas lights that do it for me. Every year I  buy more fairy lights some of which get to stay up all year. This year I have bought a highly intelligent, very versatile set. Battery powered with 7 sequence options  which turn themselves off after 6 hours and turn themselves back on again at the same time as the first 6 hour sequence began! £20 from Waitrose. What a bargain.I have also bought silver filagree hearts and butterflies.  B&Q and Asda respectively and a dinky set of red hearts from Waitrose again. Kitsch perhaps but when if not at Christmas can you safely indulge your inner 70's glam rock diva.