Thank you

It’s been a week since the end of the Alexandra Palace Knitting and Stitching show and I have taken the time to ponder how things went. It was exhausting but exhilarating!


By working alone in my studio and spending so much time and mental energy in creating, and making a new body of work, it was with great trepidation that I allowed my work (and by default myself) to be open to public scrutiny. Although I show you things here, it is a different matter to put the actual work up on the wall and to have to stand in front of it in person. I needn’t have worried. Thank-you to everyone who came and spoke to me. I was touched by your positive reactions and I really enjoyed talking about my work and your work and hearing your recollections of the North Norfolk coastline.




For those of you who wanted to buy my Moments of Being book when I had run out  of stock on Sunday afternoon – I have received another batch from the printer and it will be available in my shop in the next couple of days.

Moments of Being book

The most frequent question throughout the week was what next? Well I still have the Harrogate Knit and Stitch to consider –  but after that I think it will involve this magnificent beast that I acquired a few months ago!


The Sluice Creek Cloths

There is only a week to go before the Knitting & Stitching show! Nearly everything is packed up in copious amounts of bubblewrap and I am running around deciding on slightly strange things like how to transport 2 buckets of dry sand without it spilling out everywhere. Today I’ll give you a bit of information about the main part of the Moments of Being body of work – The Sluice Creek Cloths.


Sluice Creek is a tidal inlet just off the main channel at Wells-next-the-Sea. It runs north/south and narrows to the north in a labyrinth of seemingly endless inlets and creeks. It is a quiet place but at the same time it teems with life and movement – there is always something new and interesting to see and experience.

Version 2

The Sluice Creek Cloths are inspired by the memory of encounters with physical processes that I have encountered whilst out walking or sailing: the sun moving over the marsh and creating shadows, the clink of halyards knocking against masts, the shape of a bend in the creek or the way saltwater marks my clothes.


I have invested a huge amount of time and effort in these cloths and they have taken me about 18 months to make. There are seven cloths in the series. Each one is made from linen and hangs double over a shiny, varnished pole. The mark I have chosen to use as my personal notation for this body of work is the hole. It is a space – an immaterial emptiness that is surrounded by a physical material that describes its shape and allows us to see a nothing. The holes I have sewn into the linen of The Sluice Creek Cloths are edged with thread-bound iron wire. These evoke the small metal eyelets and fastenings that are in tarpaulins, boat covers and sails found in a coastal environment. Each cloth has been dipped in the sea several times to rust the eyelets and to mark the cloth.
The information I have written over the past three posts has come from a book that I have designed and self-published to accompany the Moments of Being exhibition. It is a 20 x 20cms, soft-covered book with 60 pages. It includes text that describes my inspiration and way of working and has photographs that I have taken myself of the work and the environment that inspired it. It will be on sale at the show next week. It will also be on sale  after the show in my shop.
Do come and say hello if you are there!

Liminal Objects

I thought that in the lead up to the Knitting & Stitching show I would give you a taste of the work that I will be showing and a short explanation of it’s inspiration. Liminal Objects is the collective name for the salt works that I am exhibiting.  I originally made them for an exhibition early on this year but I have made more pieces and will be showing the complete series here for the first time.


I first started using salt in my work when I noticed the tide marks seawater left on my navy-blue sailing trousers (another ‘Moment of Being’). I thought that saltwater marks on cloth had potential and I have experimented with salt water solutions extensively to get the effects I presently employ. When salt is mixed with water it dissolves. As the water slowly evaporates the salt’s crystalline structure is revealed. This cyclical process takes time and many of the small salt works I make can take up to six weeks for the process to be completed.


The series of works in Liminal Objects come from my memory and imagination. They could be the remains of creatures that have been washed ashore and caught on the strandline – the threshold between land and sea.


The works here are Sea Purses. They are small, salt encrusted containers to remind you of the seashore.


The first of the Knitting & Stitching shows is at Alexandra Palace, London from 5 – 9 October. Please do come and say hello to me if you are there.


Marshscape Collage

P1030239 web

It is only three weeks now until the Knitting and Stitching show and I have finished making all the work for my gallery. There are just the fiddly (but surprisingly time consuming) things left to do to make sure that everything is in perfect order – finishing off, sewing in ends, thinking about what I need to actually hang the work and other paper/computer related things.

I thought that in the lead up to the show I would give you a taste of what I will be showing and a short explanation of the work’s inspiration. First the title of the work – Moments of Being.


Moments of Being is a concept that occurs in an essay by Virginia Woolf called A Sketch of the Past. In it she wonders why it is that some ordinary, but powerful memories rise above the forgotten trivia of everyday life. She concludes that there are two types of experience: moments of non-being and of being. Moments of non-being are experiences that one lives through but are not consciously aware of, whereas a moment of being is a flash of conscious awareness.


My new body of work is inspired by a series of vividly remembered encounters and engagements with the marshes and beach of the North Norfolk coastline. I have taken my own quite ordinary, but powerful, recollections to form the basis of the work. Each work notates the memory of a commonplace event or observation: the sun moving over the marsh and creating shadows, the clink of halyards knocking against masts, the shape of a bend in the creek or the way saltwater marks my clothes. These are not unusual experiences, but are personal and intensely remembered moments.

The last of this work to be finished is a set of 16 small Marshscape Collages and so I’ll start there. The collages are mounted on thick board and framed with a waxed cloth border. They are 20 x 20 cms each.

P1030232 web

The collages have been created intuitively. They are images of the Norfolk coastline that come from my memory: the shape of a bend in the creek, the rocking of moored boats or the outline of the saltmarsh. They are about shape, colour, light and space. I have made them from bits pulled out of my big bag of odds and ends (mainly unfinished or discarded work and left-overs) and specially painted paper and cloth. It is rather like doing a puzzle. I move shapes and colours around until they suddenly jump into the right place – what Sandra Blow calls that ‘startling rightness’.

P1030243 web

The first of the Knitting & Stitching shows is at Alexandra Palace, London from 5 – 9 October. Please do come and say hello to me if you are there.

Last walk in Wells

I am back in Thames Ditton after 10 (very hard-working) weeks in Wells. Although I’m sad to leave, I’m looking forward to a busy autumn. I have finished all the work for the Knitting & Stitching shows and I only have the details to sort out now. As a result I am beginning to feel a little bit excited!


I went for a last stroll around Wells just after sunset last night. It was getting dark and it felt as if I was marking my territory until the next time I can be there which probably won’t be until after the London Show at Alexandra Palace

Here is what I saw as the light gradually faded.





Marram grass

With gale force winds and rain forecast for later on today an early walk at Holkham to get the best of the day was called for. I know I’ve been a rather quiet here recently so I took my camera with me to see what caught my eye.


As is usual when the wind is coming from the west, I walked along the path at the back of the pinewoods so that the wind would be behind me on the walk back along the beach. Coming out into the open across the dunes it was immediately obvious how sheltered I had been as the force of the wind took my breath away as it buffeted me sideways from the left.


The dunes at the top of the beach are topped by marram grass, Ammophila arenaria, whose fibrous roots  stabilise dry, windblown sand and aid the dune building process. The dense, grey/green tufts of this grass can be seen all along the coast and is so common that I don’t usually pay it much attention. However today the wind had animated into swirls and waves of alternating light and dark movement. A continuous, swooshing rustle drowned out any other sounds.


Hunkering down between the dunes and the grass to find a modicum of shelter and to drink a cup of coffee I found my fingers itching to pick the marram. Twisting it round and round on itself I started to make a string – strong, fresh green grass at first but as that split and broke I found  that old dried, yellowing blades were stronger, more pliable and held up better to the twisting process. Before long I had a couple of metres that I rolled it up into a small ball to put into my pocket.


I love the process of looking and noticing and the way I never know what will catch my eye from one day to the next. The ever-changing weather conditions, the shifting light or just being in the right place at the right time draws my attention to something I could never have foreseen. It’s good just to go out and see what there is to see.



I have finished sewing the last Sluice Creek Cloth for my gallery at the Knitting and Stitching Shows in the autumn ….. phew! This last cloth is a twin to the very first cloth I made in the series this time last year. Both these cloths are based on the regular and rhythmic sound of halyards knocking against the masts of boats in the wind and they focus on the way the sound of the chattering ropes shifts slowly in and out of unison.


I took the cloth down to the beach in the evening to give it its first dip in the sea. At the moment this cloth is clean and unmarked and the unpainted part of the linen and the stitched rings are pristine white. It won’t be like this for long! I intend to dip this cloth into the sea and dry it around five times so that the rings rust and mark the cleanness of the cloth. I want the look of a utilitarian tarpaulin or work cloth that has been used, is dirty and has had a life.


This Masts and Halyards cloth has been quite a task. There are about 250 rings sewn into it. I average about 5 rings an hour …. you can work it out!


It was a beautiful evening for sea dipping at the beach.

Looking one way ….


and the other.


I will write more on all of the Sluice Creek Cloths in due course …..