After a most wonderful summer and autumn time this year, with so many hours spent by the sea, it’s now getting frosty and quieter. As a winter child, I also long for this time of year. Time to rest. Nature reduced to a clear structure, branches transforming into subtle patterns, interwoven with the sky. Shades of grey. Simplicity. Retreat.
Slowly the first signs of Christmas are popping up even in our small town. Lights and Song. Time for me to prepare for the Tiverton Christmas Craft Fair on December 2nd. My latest kiln firing has just been done. Foxes, squirrels, birds, white stars (which can be used as Christmas tree decoration) and small object-vases all came out fine.
In November, we spent a holiday at Branscombe beach, enjoying a peaceful time watching the tide coming in and going out. One night, we even experienced a heavy storm, wondering if our little chalet would be lifted off the ground or flooded by the waves which were crawling up the stairs. When it got too frightening to watch, we decided to escape to a nearby pub and returned only after high tide was over. Luckily, the chalet was still there and everything in it was where we had left it. Strolling along the beach the next morning was a feast for collectors of driftwood and all sorts of interesting things. Among all this, I discovered so many different shapes and colours of seaweed. I thought it would make a great decoration for the little vase-objects.
The vases, now being decorated and consisting of black clay, and the seaweed foliage appear almost like charcoal drawings, reflecting the grey structures of winter branches. I love their quiet, fragile appearance.
Even my little robin, made of felt, hibernates in its seaweed nest on my desk, after such a busy, joyful summer and autumn.
