Inspiration most often strikes like a match in the dark. One moment there's nothing; not an inkling of light, sound or anything remotely detectable by any of the senses. And then, the next moment its all there: starting with the small, unmistakable sound, then the smell, warmth and sight of sensuous flame flickering against the nothingness.
I've had the mere sight of a knitting pattern set me off on a range of ceramics entitled Windswept; with the feel and look of a deserted beach in winter, the wind sweeping sand and whipping waves.
I have planned menus on a single inspirational flicker of a flame: a Christmas lunch on a jar of rosemary, tomato and apple jelly; breakfast of stewed fruit and yogurt on one perfect cape gooseberry in its golden husk; a sushi party on the color of a tablecloth.
To make gifts for Christmas is a personal indulgence I have allowed myself since I was old enough to hold and use a needle and thread, which was way before I went to school.
I made a rag doll for my sister when I was ten. It was my own design and wasn't all that pretty, but I loved it almost as much as I loved my sister. I had a real internal battle to let go of my precious creation. But I did.
This Christmas I am inspired by my family's personal likes. My brother and sister-in-law love the Art Deco era. It inspired me to make a picnic set which may lean more to Art Nouveau as I'm no great expert. But I loved choosing the fabric, the colors, the patterns and shapes of the era dictating the bowl I made to go with it.
A talcum powder tin from the thirties has me all mellow thinking of my youngest sister. She could have walked right out of the Gatsby era. Or lived there, quite comfortably. I filled it with old fashioned scented bath salts and a hand painted ceramic pendant, the colours I know she loves and that go so well with her fair skin.
My rag doll sister now loves arum lilies. Anything I make that even remotely resembles one she claims as one, even if its a curled up fern leaf. So I made her a bowl with arum lilies, bringing in small flecks of the lime green she likes so much.
Inspiration is a small unobtrusive thing. I don't really know why I am sometimes susceptible and at other times so completely jaded. I just know I would gladly crash and burn in that irresistible flame.
Matilda
I've had the mere sight of a knitting pattern set me off on a range of ceramics entitled Windswept; with the feel and look of a deserted beach in winter, the wind sweeping sand and whipping waves.
To make gifts for Christmas is a personal indulgence I have allowed myself since I was old enough to hold and use a needle and thread, which was way before I went to school.
I made a rag doll for my sister when I was ten. It was my own design and wasn't all that pretty, but I loved it almost as much as I loved my sister. I had a real internal battle to let go of my precious creation. But I did.
This Christmas I am inspired by my family's personal likes. My brother and sister-in-law love the Art Deco era. It inspired me to make a picnic set which may lean more to Art Nouveau as I'm no great expert. But I loved choosing the fabric, the colors, the patterns and shapes of the era dictating the bowl I made to go with it.
My rag doll sister now loves arum lilies. Anything I make that even remotely resembles one she claims as one, even if its a curled up fern leaf. So I made her a bowl with arum lilies, bringing in small flecks of the lime green she likes so much. Inspiration is a small unobtrusive thing. I don't really know why I am sometimes susceptible and at other times so completely jaded. I just know I would gladly crash and burn in that irresistible flame.
Matilda
Comments
Post a Comment