Tangled In yarn
Searching for answers
On the quest for insight
Conjuring reality from dreams
I suppose I should say something about writing. I’m editing. There, that’s it! The good old Work In Progress is progressing. The other one is bubbling along. Other things are being explored too, making art, learning another language and yes, an exciting trip coming up. Enjoying a new, yet familiar place I have moved to. Cooking and walking. Sunshine – there is more of it- and warmth. Busyness and peace. Deciduous woodlands, rolling green hills and birdsong.
Grammar school – and two art classrooms. I took up O Level Art later than my other ones. My work was a mix of still life and surreal. I liked this combination. I liked pastels, charcoal, acrylic and poster paint and ink.
My art teachers liked my work. One art teacher gave me materials. He knew we were hard up. I still have the end bits of those pastels and paints. The class was dominated by girls, some boys. The girls were mostly middle class – producing album cover art for bands they liked, mostly prog rock.
I was indie/punk. The others didn’t get my work. The teachers did. I worked from my feelings.
My mother taught me to knit. Everything and anything you could wear – jumpers, cardies, socks, footsies, gloves, hats. We did a lot of it. I wore a lot of hand-knits. I got in to mohair – it worked well with the punk image. I am also allergic to lanolin!
This phase saw a lot of making and a step in to sewing – clothes and soft furnishings. Again I was taught by those around me.
School finished and I decided I wanted to get a job. And off I went to the tax office sandwiched between Salts Mill and Jerome’s Mill. Both mills redundant by then. A working life in textiles wasn’t going to be our future.