Flowers for May

THESE TINY SAXIFRAGES are my small windowbox garden, planted not long ago, and reaching towards the light that tips on these bright mornings over the top of that oldest thatch onto my paintings as they are born. Through their stems I see the village go by from my desk. Children walking to school, unfathomably huge lorries of logs, texting horseriders, and ladies on bikes... This view was included this week on Terri Windling's window view blog feature, where you can see views through windows of folks all over. Looking from inside out.

I write from the edge of London now, half way to Suffolk where I'll be selling my wares at this weekend's Weird and Wonderful Wood fair. Come along if you are passing by Stowmarket, I'll be in the barn! The journey has been epic so far: relearning my rusty driving skills in a little rented van, and on the way finding myself stranded (and threatened with police!) in a petrol station without enough pennies to pay for £5.68's worth of fuel! I was rescued by a petrol-station-angel in the form of a lady eating a sandwich who crossed my palm with 5 pound coins as she overheard my panicked phone call to the bank! (I then had to go back sheepishly and ask her for 68 more pence!) We exchanged addresses for the return of the loan and I blessed her in my thoughts all the way!

... and stopped for a cup of Verge Tea, teabagless as I was:


Life is a whirlwind of paint and colour this May! I have so much work to complete, and I am fighting not to get buried by it all! But I look forward to June, when days will be clear to walk up hills and look over the edge into the unfolding year... And all the while I delight in every little plant that blinks from the verges: goosegrass, dandelion, nettle, stitchwort.
I leave you in haste with my Summer Crow, painted for Melanie in watercolour as the last in my commissioned series of four crow-seasons. He too looks out across summer fields grasping a sunflower in his claws...

A sniff of Autumn

AS MY FLU ABATES and my nose begins to work again, I detect a hint of brown leaves on the wind. Autumn is tiptoeing slyly in between the rain showers and half remembered sunbeams, and our truck is getting splendider by the day. Yesterday Tui took me out into the air for the first time in 6 days, and we parked the Bedford up the road in a heathery sheepy spot where we lit a fire and made tea and eggs on toast and read books. There is now a lovely wooden ceiling in the truck (with skylights above where my desk will be), a skeleton of a kitchen with sink and cooker and cupboards, and a door handle and a lock! Even the wood and green of our wheeled home blend in with the windy brown grey hills, and the smoke curls out of the chimney past a brand new chimney rain hat.

Back in the house.. I have been able once more to put pencil and paintbrush to the next circle of wood that is to be Once Upon O'Clock number four. It is dark indoors, and any brief chink of sunlight that breaks through the days of rain showers is welcome indeed. We sit in the house planning travels, impatient to have our house finished, and imagining waking parked in Other Places, where the light is different and where the grass is crisp with frozen dew...

A box of beads on a foggy day

YESTERDAY'S FOGGY misty moisty morning brought an interesting box all the way from Utah.. and inside I found this - a delightful box of handmade beads, sent to me by an admirer of my paintings ~ Sharon Bourke, who makes these lampwork beads and gives them to friends and strangers and leaves them in nooks and crannies on walks to be happened upon by passersby.
A delightful treasure-trove to arrive on our doorstep on this grey day. The beads are made by heating coloured glass rods in a flame and wrapping the molten glass round a steel rod to make the hole. Centrifugal force keeps the beads spherical and mysterious chemical reactions between the different colours produce the one-off jewel-like results.
She enclosed a quote too:

"Beads are gypsies: glittering, magical, and primitive hitchhikers. You slow down to take a look, and they attach themselves to your soul."

Carolyn Manzi, Bead Power.

We have had some sunny days too though, enough for Tui to clamber up on the horsebox and begin work proper on wooding our new home. This front section was covered with metal and is now expertly bedecked with Honduran Pitch Pine. It will soon boast a lovely round window (unearthed on ebay) in the middle, but at the moment it has no glass in it!

Meanwhile I have been busy with the mystery painting.. which I am very happy with still, despite some struggles involving painting green glass ... anyhow it is almost done and those of you expecting a little surprise in the post'll be receiving something soonish. The dastardly hard drive people are making me wait even longer while they source parts from America apparently...
I am still expecting the worst.
Ho hum... time to light the fire.