The Restory Retreat Centre

A small river we cross on the way to Newcastle. Photo by Matilda This time round I have been waiting very long for the spark. That tiny little flicker of a thing that sets the ready kindling alight, slowly warming my insides with ideas licking slowly higher and higher, until I can no longer contain myself. And start creating in a burst of red hot energy!  It is not a necessary ingredient in the life of an artist, I am told. One should create, write, sculpt whether you feel inspired or not. It comes with the doing. With the keeping at it. So I'm told and it has been my experience for the most. But there is a marked difference. If inspiration can be graded, I would have to say, the keep-at-it-and-it-comes-along variety has always been rather lukewarm for me personally. It does not seem to heat up much, but burns steadily and quietly, producing well... well, producing sellable products. But it hardly raises my pulse.   While I'm in the creative slow cooker I am ...

"[All] souls should have a pantry, however modest." Helen Witty states in her book, Fancy Pantry. This (photo above) will be my soul's delight when we move into the grand old lady of a house (photo below) by the end of this year if all goes according to the perceived plan. The house is built of huge blocks of cut ironstone and still boasts its original Oregon floors and high pressed ceilings. It has been well kept mostly, but for the ghastly renovations and changes wrought on what must have been a beautiful homestead back in 1910 when it was first built. I can already picture rows of sparkling preserves sitting pretty next to a range of rustic ceramics that is already starting to germinate in my head. Imprinted with the images of what that environment stirs in me. My very own authentic farmhouse pantry. Bliss! Matilda

My sister Marinetha and I (left) during one of our annual seaside holidays. Strange forces are at work in the creative process. I often find myself buckling under the heavy hand of a dry spell that settles on the back of my neck and keeps my vision aimed downward. Downhill it rapidly pushes me and soon I find myself in a dark valley where I am convinced that no light ever reaches. No spark of inspiration seems possible as I don't really have the capability of NOTICING things to produce the necessary spark.       I know rationally that at such times the trick is to simply carry on creating. Even if it feels hollow or nothing much. To just keep going. But it is almost impossible to propel my inner artist to do this when there is simply nothing that excites.       At other times it is a subtler enemy that sneaks in and knocks me off balance. I get a commission to make a really special gift  for a really special person on a really special occasi...

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 mad...