The Collective

The Creative Folk Collective has been an important part of the last nine months. A group of women who are all forging their own paths, trying to figure out how to launch into creative pursuits in bigger and more purposeful ways. Some are old friends, some are new; sometimes we meet as a distinct five, sometimes as a wider gathering with boyfriends and others in our lives.

The Collective met at the weekend, minus one key member (who was honeymooning in South Africa,) for a day of country air, folk music and fields. It was blissful.

Sometimes when we gather together we have a project, a new skill to learn or a discussion to have but sometimes, we just meet. This was a meet up. Intentions to camp in Wales gave way to a lazy Saturday in our various homes and a Sunday at a music festival in the hills outside Bath. We strolled across the fields in the grey morning light, to sit in a village square festooned with bunting and flags, accompanied by Morris dancers and accordion players.

Freshly Ground performing at Priston Festival



We ate beer battered fish and chips, drank delicious ale and chatted. We occasionally sheltered from the rain under golfing brollies snaffled from old acquaintances, and rounded off our afternoon huddling around a big old table in the village pub.

As we traipsed back over the fields, a little less energetically than we had started our day, we picked the last of the blackberries and mused over careers and loves and plans and moves.

 And stopped for the occasional Album Cover photo.

Crafting: Projects

I have a quotation stuck above my desk which reads, 'Don't get swamped in too many projects - one thing at a time.'

I don't remember where it came from, but I do remember the feeling of clarity when I read it. I knew it was wise in many respects, but I have found it hard to stick to - sometimes I think that I should be trying harder, other times I feel that having a few things on the go keeps me feeling creative and motivated...Once in a while however, having too much on, tips me slightly over the edge!

At the moment, after a summer of crafting, writing and wedding-present making, I feel satisfied with what I have achieved and what I am working on. Life is dominated by the combination of a new post at school and writing the second draft of the text book, but I have found the time to work on a few things.

The Cut Out

I haven't finished this cut out yet. The cutting is done - a present to mark the marriage of two friends - hours spent cutting white card on a brand new cutting board left me with a pleasing shape, but it was covered in pencil marks. I am half way through working out how this is going to be rectified - I sprayed it with graffiti paint, but the effect was patchy - so I am now painstakingly covering it with white acrylic - it'll get there before their first anniversary...



The Collage

And this is the start of a mixed media canvas. I have painted the background of the canvas - a simple blue/grey acrylic wash - and stuck the first layer of prints and a bit of lace. The plan is to build up layers of acrylic and textured bits and pieces - I love this blog - and recently bought Kelly Rae's book, Taking Flight which has all sorts of ideas for mixed media approaches. Again, this is a long process, but I dip in and out, when I have a spare hour or so.

The Noticeboard

Perhaps the simplest and most satisfying project of my summer, after months of bemoaning the cost of pretty fabric noticeboards, a gingham addition to my kitchen. I used an old canvas, a piece of wadding, the gingham left over from a chair that I reupholstered last year and some biased binding. With the help of a handy staple gun I layered the wadding and the gingham before criss-crossing the binding (rather unevenly). In order to hold the cards and paper on the board, I stitched small stars at every crossing point - simple, wonky, but effective. 

And...The Pencil Case. 

The night before term started, having worked to the wire to complete my draft, I felt forlorn at the thought of a new term without new stationary. I dug out a favourite old fountain pen and stitched together a little pencil case to house it in. Every morning, I arrive at school, sit down at my almost tidy desk, and place the pencil case next to my planner and computer. Tea in hand, fountain pen at the ready, I feel ready for my day.

So that was that. I have also been selling bunting in the local cafe - a small and manageable creative-business step - and have to make a few more strings but thought I might make some pencil cases too. The tools of the trade are laid out on my sewing table, fabrics have been chosen and I will continue in my small way to carve my niche.

As Autumn Approaches



The change in seasons came suddenly and shockingly last weekend. With the start of a new term came wind and rain, gloomy evenings and grey mornings; I wasn't ready for it. I spent the week hunkering down, ignoring the rain hammering on the skylights and creeping down the windows, preferring to work late, rush home and pull the curtains shut and cuddle up on the sofa.

This weekend offered me the perfect remedy. The rain eased off, I opened the doors to the garden. I swept, mopped, scrubbed and freshened my own little house before heading to my parents' house, my family home. At home, the harvest continues. We ate grapes from the vine, apples from the orchard and this morning feasted on homemade oatcakes and home laid eggs.

The cat kept close watch over the chickens as my dad cleared the orchard, and the sun shone softly on the warm stone walls.

Crabapples are falling, logs have been gathered and the flutter of anticipation of cosy evenings is beginning to sustain us all after the busy summer months.

I grew up in a special place. A National Trust estate which, in its post-feudal incarnation, is home to earth-loving farmers, organic growers and creative types. And it's a village that knows how to have a party. This particular party was to celebrate the end of the annual local food festival, and it did not disappoint.

The village is beautiful and unpretentiously wholesome. It is a good place to have grown up, and a good place to return to. There is inevitably a conversation every time I go home in which someone asks, 'do you think you'll end up coming back?' My answer is generally, 'maybe' but whether I do or not, it is a place that runs through my veins, sustaining me and reminding me of the things that I love.

Writer?

For the last three years, I have been building a teaching career, happily so. A longer post will appear one day, in which I tell you in rambling detail, quite how important this step has been for me and how much I have grown through the job. I really do love it and I know, deep in my heart, that it has done me the world of good.


And yet...


Being fiercely independent and needing, deeply, increasing autonomy about my working life, I have been moonlighting, cramming, and dreaming of other occupations which can live along side my teaching. I have been adding strings to my bow. This blog is essentially a tool for me to figure out and develop these sidelines; cooking, crafting, yoga teaching and now, writing: All are creative, all are nourishing.


But for now, the writing. It has been hard. I have been working to a publisher's brief and putting together a guide to gothic, perfect for those pesky 14-years olds that I spend my days with. The process has been far more demanding than I anticipated, and as I approach my deadling (Monday - deep breath....) I am both grateful and terrified to be handing over the work that I have done. This is the first time that I have ever written professionally, and for me, this is a big, big deal.

The process? An eye-opener. Way more thinking than I had anticipated. More cups of tea, more breaks, more procrastinating and fankly, more back ache. I am grateful for the opportunity to see if this lifestyle, of working to deadlines, of being alone, of sorting and sorting and sorting my thoughts, could be for me. Now I am nearing the end? I think so. I think I could handle the process again and hope (publisher willing) that I get another opportunity.

The greatest thing is however, the autonomy. I like to handle my own time. I like to be creative and I am grateful for a framework within which to be just that.