Driving away from home for Christmas

Christmas in the Daniel's household isn't actually held in the Daniel's household. Well not Flora Daniel's household- but Geoff and Margery Daniel's household. My grandparents live in Cumbria in a ramshackle house in the wood.
To me- that's Christmassy, I hate leaving my beloved but there are mice, and he isn't cool with mice. I hope you get to be with your loved ones this year. If not- here's a deer in a Christmas jumper. Have a good un!

Learning curve

We had an amazing time in Leeds this weekend. Amongst the (many) fab things we did we went to see a film about Grant Morrison. Mostly, I'm ambivalent towards Morrison, he can be amazing or I can just tire of too many ideas and not enough story. But he got me thinking. He lives and works in such a way as to live his stories, when he was writing 'The Invisibles', he behaved just like King Mob, he did scary, crazy things for his work. Drugs and Shamanism and cross-dressing and shaving his head and crazy, crazy things.

Likewise with Grayson Perry, he wants to make things with heart, that mean something. And you can't do that without involving yourself body and soul. Which is making me question whether I'm doing crazy enough things. I have tended to stick a pin in my art as soon as I leave my studio. But perhaps I should be more open to letting my life be part of my art work.

There are some artists who can make work in a very domestic way, they can make thoughtful, beautiful work and then turn the lights out and leave it. But, I don't know their names. Maybe they're the Edmund de Waal's of the world, maybe they're the Paul Cornell's, I couldn't tell you, because those artists, although loved by many, don't market their work as an extension of themselves. In many ways you can see that Morrison's and Perry's work is a form of counselling, which, in the past, my own work has been for me so maybe a more life-on (as opposed to hands-on) approach might be rewarding.

On the other hand, I'm a very domestic person. I like baking and watching Saturday night telly and going for walks with my beloved, could I ever be a crazy artiste?

The whole university experience is about discovering who you want to be, and so far I'm leaning towards design as opposed to art, but I don't truthfully feel I'll have given enough of a whack at it if I don't let the edges blur between what I'm making and what I'm doing.

TL

Divine Inspiration

Most ideas that come to me don't ever really come. They're in the background and then I do some work and through the making I start to realise what I was trying to say. So last year when I was going to do some crazy parade one of the props I had to make was a ceramic baby. Easy enough, but while I was making the "baby" I decided to carve lots of details in to make the baby like Diana (Wonderwoman) which made more and more sense. One of the reasons Diana being made of mud is important is that it means she is an entirely female product, she owes nothing to any man. She is a woman without Daddy-issues.

And that's very intruiging for a young girl with abandonment issues, a woman who is unable to be abandoned. The whole idea changed to be about women without fathers, it was a wonderful project and I basically developed a whole new layer of interest and skill through doing that project. But it didn't really come from any solid idea to back it up, it made it's own idea, like a real baby.

And usually that's how it goes, but at the moment, I've been thinking. Shock horror! Because suddenly, playing with clay hasn't been the usual therapy it is and I've had to rely on more than self-analysis. So here's a massive list of images that have been helping me make some work.


Ibo bronze sculptures.

Oedipus und die Sphinx

Rossetti's Annunciation

Claire Curneen and the wonder that she is.

Abbott Handerson Thayer

Other things as well. Walking, walking past churches, the amazing Grayson Perry lecture I just went to (that desrves an entire blog all of it's own).

I have a review tomorrow, which means I should have all my work lined up for judgment, maybe I'll snap a couple of photos so you can join in with the constructive criticism.

Figures

Last year I started making figures, and the fun I had making them was unreal. Most of the ceramicists in my year aren't all that fussed with the figure. Where the pot is like an invisible canvas that can hide and reveal as much domesticity as you like, the figure is so rooted in narrative and anatomy that it can feel passe. I love how potent the figure is, people react in a completley different way to figures than to pots.
I noticed the other day that whilst admiring someone's work I said 'Ooh, I like him!' meaning the pot. Perhaps it's my constant need to anthropomorphise things around me (I had an entire conversation with my coffee pot on Saturday morning, much in the style of Shirley Valentine) that means I love how right feeling a figure is.

And yet, some people who have transferred into the year below have started making some amazing figures, and I'll admit it, I feel sort of like they're infringing on my territory. I've been trying to make massive things, but we've not had a lot of clay and I've had to make little testers like the ones above. Yet these guys have dived in and made massive coiled figures and thrown figures and things I always fail at. I'll figure out how to do it, honest. But at the moment, I may never be able to make a life size figure, which is what I'm supposed to by the end of the year. I'm going to continue playing and toying and doing lots of other fun things. Maybe some day I'll figure out why I love the figure so much.

Living life lenslessly

Currently I don't have a camera, I'm like they're kryptonite. They break, they get lost, stolen, they start taking photos that are mostly pink. But, I have to admit, sometimes I think it's a good thing. Not now when I'm doing the bloggy thing but take last night. We won tickets to the wrestling, we had great seats, we'd smuggled tasty sweets in, Daniel wasn't feeling too hot but that seems to be the curse of the Newcastle Arena. When Mam and I went to see Eddie Izzard she was ill and last time we went to see wrestling my face mysteriously swelled up. But, point being we were set to have a good time. And we did, we saw some super moves and some great performers, lovely fun. We look out across a sea of people and what do we see?
Cameras. People snapping photos instead of cheering. Absolutely mind boggling. Same thing happened when we went to see the fireworks, I love fireworks. We were sneaking a peak at the Cleadon display and noticed a family so intent on taking pictures of each other in front of fireworks that I don't think they saw a single one.
When did this happen? When did recording being there beat actually being there? I had an amazing night both times. The cool crispy night and we had bonfire toffee (it tasted like treacle, which doesn't sound comforting, but totally was) and some breathtaking fireworks and that great smokey smell. It was great. And no, I don't have a photo to show you, but I was just as there as someone who took one.
TL

Headache and a half

Ever get the feeling your head is being slowly squeezed by something wet and cold? No? Lucky you.
Why do I have a head ache?
1- I've not been for a run for a couple of days and my endorphin thingies musn't be doing what they're supposed to.
2- I realised at around 5 in Newcastle that I hadn't eaten any lunch so popped into Marks and Spencer and had some over seasoned chicken that's making me feel ick.
3- And balancing is something I suck at, there are some people int he world who can spin plates, juggle, whatever kind of circus metaphor you'd like but I'm not one of them. Focussing one one task is one of the only things I can do sufficiently.
4- I've lost the tiniest bit of weight so my trousers don't fit so well and I've been walking round with a piece of blue wool holding them up.

I'm not a migraine sufferer, I rarely get headachey but when I do it's nearly always a cold or dehydration, this time, two in one go. Lucky girl, eh?
But I have something to look forward to. Tomorrow I'll be at Bill Quay farm, a fine community farm, selling glass and ceramics at their farmers market. It may be perverse, but I'm well and truly excited, I'll be spending the day with wonderful students and all chilly and autumnal and lovely!
I will be bringing some cash just for hot chocolate and a well worn set of thermals so it should be lovely.



The year group are getting closer to raising all the money we need and I'm incredibly glad for an opportunity to fundraise using our actual trade as opposed to bake sales. Although I'm baking this, this and some mystery stuff from Sweet Paul magazine for Monday mornings Art History lectures too, let's see how that turns out.
Time to take some paracetamol and drink my body weight in water.
TL

Big Man

So, my week is now divided into tasks. Monday is research day, Tuesday is modelling, Wednesday is feedback, Thursday is dissertation and Friday is degree show work. Only thing is, this week I've been making this fella. And may have neglected my other jobs. Whoops!
TL

Fundraising

Anyone in Sunderland should come and visit us in the beautiful Ashburn art building which is about to be abandoned by the University of Sunderland for somewhere with air conditioning, heating and other practial but dull things. So this might be your last chance, come along, eat a cookie, buy some awesome awesome ceramics and glass.
TL

Missing things

I'm in the library and never have I sniffed more in a quieter place. I have my first cold of the winter, and it's probably just about the right time to have it. I'm busier than I can remember ever being. So much so that on Tuesday, I bought a diary. And a-wooosh, I'm full of feeling organised and amazing.

Only trouble is, I keep missing things. More precisely, phone calls. My phone is on its last legs and I need a new one, I admit it, I bow to defeat. So far, I've missed calls for a job interview and to get a table at Tynemouth market, so all my feelings of having everything in control are ebbing away, slowly and sadly.

So far I've been in every phone shop I can think of and have grown the cajones to ask idiotic questions like 'what's 3G?' and other things I'm sure you'd hear 80 year old luddites ask a tech savvy young man in a phone store. Problem is, I'm a potter. I know that the idea that we all live in wooden huts and bake our own bread is outdated, but not by much. I still have a cheat sheet to programme a kiln and lets face it, this blog isn't as pretty as it should be, it should be champagne and instead, it's Lambrini.

But my phone is a necessity, I text about a million times a day, mostly to my team of glass and ceramics fundraisers about things I need to do/have forgotten to do/need them to do pretty please. And it's difficult to organise things just via email, because grown ups are in charge of things, and some grown ups would rather do things voice to voice rather than email to email. This means I have to continue to brave terrifying jargon (what's a mega pixel, and how many do I want?) in order to have my megalomaniacal feelings placated.

Mini-deadline tomorrow, must dash. But lets all celebrate the joy that is a flow chart for one moment.

From the brilliant 344 questions that anyone can feel free to buy me.

The List

Have you seen the irritating advert for the new irritating Sarah Jessica Parker film? She mentions that at 2 am she goes through 'the list' in her head? It's irritating because it's such a generic thing that everyone does that it's barely even observational. But here I am, with the list rolling through my head.

I wrote a massive list whilst I was in a lecture the other day (I'm committed, I just love lists too much) and now I've lost the damn thing. And I don't think I did it accidentally. I think I did it in the same way I sometimes 'accidentally' sleep late or 'accidentally' forget I'm on a diet. If I really wanted too, I could find it. But I don't want to look at it, it's too huge and scary.

We went through the brief for our final major project the other day. It's a map of what the next 8-9 months look like. When it was over someone said 'Ooh, Lily, you've got some greys' I'm 22 people! And I'm pretty sure I didn't have grey hair at the beginning of that lecture, but knowing how much work I'm going to have to churn out hurts. Physically, hurts.

More than that, I like to do well. I'm not a perfectionist, but I'm an only child and I used to be in amateur dramatics, I like praise. And knowing how much work there is made me have a minor panic attack. I just felt like I couldn't do it. I cracked a whole bunch of jokes to try and hide it but denying that I'm freaking out about writing a dissertation whilst getting technical notes done and organising a degree show and trip to New Designers, well, the air began to feel like treacle and the lecturers started to look at me like I was turning blue.

Then I made my list. Because order can spring unexpectedly from chaos, mountains can turn to mole hills at the swipe of a pen and I felt better. University is tough, and I'd forgotten. I have a blast with all the amazing people who inspire me so it's easy to miss that there's often huge piles of work that keep you awake at night.

I'm talking to a bunch of second years on monday about being second years and organising their exhibition. I hope I can help them feel as empowered as the 3rd years made me feel and that they have a blast. I started back at uni on Monday and I'm already feeling nervous and sad about leaving. I may not always have felt comfortable or happy there and I certainly haven't always done the right thing but the last two years have been so amazing I just have to remember to keep going forwards. I should put that on the list...

I spy a potter!

Yup, it's not often you see a potter in an advert, so here I am sharing it, the joy, the love, the soup and the pots.

To watch the Heinz advert (which I'm sure includes a potter simply to get itself seen on the blogosphere) have a clicky here.

This mysterious image

Is what I'm working on now, looks a bit grubby now, but lets wait and see, eh?

In Brief

I just got an outline of what my life is going to be for the next 9 months. Not pregnant, just starting my last year at university, so what with a dissertation I doubt is any good, a degree show we have to raise millions for and a final project that made me shiver, I won't have a lot of time on my hands. If I did I'd be watching this;

HANDMADE IN BRITAIN
Ceramics – A Fragile History Ep 1/3

Monday 10 October
9.00-10.00pm BBC FOUR
Ceramics are some of the most beautiful and treasured objects with pride of place in British palaces, churches, stately houses and even family homes. Whether it's for celebrating birth, marriage and death, eating and drinking, or showing one's social status to the world, ceramics contain more than just tea or coffee – they contain something of people's lives and reveal a lot about Britain's taste and habits as a nation. They become, in effect, snapshots in clay.

Ceramics – A Fragile History is part of an ambitious year-long BBC Four partnership with the Victoria and Albert Museum called Handmade In Britain – the most wide-ranging and ambitious exploration of decorative arts ever on British television. The first programme in this opening series looks at the history of domestic pottery in Britain from the Tudor period onwards, tracing the evolution of the different techniques and styles involved in the art of pottery and examining what British pots can reveal in intimate detail about how preceding generations lived and saw themselves.

Examining key figures, including 17th-century potters John Dwight and Thomas Toft as well as contemporary traditional potters such as Mary Wondrausch, and drawing on the expertise and comments of contributors including Sir David Attenborough, Edmund de Waal and Grayson Perry, this programme celebrates one of our oldest and most fundamental art forms.

If I'm honest- I'll still be watching it, I'll just have to write my dissertation at the same time.

Scandi charm

Totally forgot that one of the things I've been indulging in in order to not do my dissertation is the stunning The Killing it's beautiful. I've been watching the American version on 4od and the Danish version on iPlayer and enjoying both. It's unusual for me to enjoy modern crime dramas, the forensic shows never really got me and the others didn't stand up to Marple so here are my reasons for enjoying this loveliness.

Check out that jumper. Seriously, it makes all the broody-ness even better. That's the Danish version, this, is the just as hardcore machine knit detective Linden.

But seriously, the whole project is handled with so much more kindness than regular crime dramas that don’t care enough about the victim. The Killing deals with all the trauma and grief that loosing someone creates and makes the whole debacle of the investigation feel awkward and desperate in it’s wake. It’s not about who killed Rosie Larsen, it’s about the fact that someone did and how hideous that is.
Don't get me wrong, I want to find out who did it, but that's what's so interesting, I don't want to find out if I'm right, I'm not curious, but I want to know. I'm sure there'll be a box set but I'd get in while it's still online.

Watching the Detectives

I'm writing my dissertation. Supposedly. I keep getting stuck and throwing in the towel, which, seems to be working quite well. I give up, start looking up what qualifications I'd need to become a builder or air hostess and suddenly solutions come to me. Here, are some of the things I've been doing while the towel is firmly thrown in.

1. Reading
Somehow, when one reads the utter garbage that some art historians pump out (or worse yet, artists, they shouldn't be allowed near a pen) one finds renewed pleasure in reading real literature. I've got a copy of Darwyn Cooke's The Hunter which Stace Whittle be-loaned to me, lully lully grimey stuff. A copy of Rachel Johnson's A diary of The Lady her memoir of her first year as editor, gosh it's nice to read about busy people. Makes me feel virtuous. And Michelle Ogundehin's new blog is keeping me chirpy too.

2. Running
Yup, I started running earlier this year but my trainers stopped being classified as shoes and more as concepts so I had to bow out till I could get some decent running shoes. I'm now the proud owner of a hideous pair of shoes that look like they were designed by a five year old with a penchant for rockets and my little pony with easy access to lots of netting. I'm knackered but it's neccessarry.

3. Worrying
I'm going back to my final year, soon this blog will be filled with deadline anxiety and concern over whether what I'm doing is the right direction for me etc etc. My nerves frazzle at the thought. I'm going to be fundraising for our degree show and trip to New Designers and I'm gonna be keeping a record of it here, so I can look back and (hopefully) say it was worth it/easier than I thought it would be/fun. Gulp.

In the meantime, here's a plate I enamelled for budy o' mine Abi Haynes 6 month babe, Charlie Georgie Kal-El (yes, like Superman) Haynes. Glad it fit on the plate.

TL

Let's go fly a kite

Under the Weather

The weather is turning from possibly sunny with rain to rain with possible sun. I love it. I'm better at getting snug than I am at cooling down so it suits me.
As I'm on holiday, I've decided I'm ill. This is something that happens. For the first 10 years of my life I got ill during blackberry week (the first holiday of the winter term). I get stressy and survive and then I relax and crumble; it's fine. I've come to accept it about myself, beating myself up about getting ill is so two years ago.
My sicky treats (things I keep for when I'm feeling icky to cheer myself up, something everyone has, yes?) are as follows.

Number 1- 101 Dalmatians
When I was little we had a tiny telly with a VCR in my mam's room and when I was poorly I was allowed to hunker down in her big bed and watch this flickery black and white TV. So naturally, something that featured predominantly black and white animals suited this situation best. And the awesome songs.


Number 2- Chai tea
It hasn't always been chai tea, hot orange juice always made me feel like I was being looked after, then in later years tea became more dignified as I lay sniffing mournfully. I love tea, cammomile, early grey, the gritty black stuff I got from Tanzania, green tea, red tea, ooh tea! Part of the reason I want to get better at throwing. Right now though, chai tea. Phwaa.


Number 3- Pyjamas
I have a soft spot for pyjamas, I have an entire laundry bin full of em. They provide instant comfort and I'll never understand the people who wear them outside (girls in Liverpool thought it was a craze) totally wrong. I try to buy the sort of pyjamas I could look cute in, but a combination of chai tea stains, bed hair and, occassionally, craft supplies, means this dream will never be a reality. I will never be chic and sleepy. Confused/grubby and sleepy? That's me.


There are more things that make me feel better, bubble baths, murder mysteries, jelly, being patted on the head, flowers, sympathy, presents. I'm a simple gal and I'm off to have another cuppa tea and read Darwyn Cooke's The New Frontier that Daniel bought me yesterday. If that don't make me feel better nothing will.

TL

In with the new

I can see the carpet in my studio now! Some combination of elements actually made a plastic bag decompose, I didn't know I had such skills. Impressive, eh? Finally have my notice board looking a bit more acceptable but I've not got as much as I'd usually like on it, since the clothes pegs started falling off I've had to get creative with wire and pins.

The view out of my window is nice and calm, occassionally through the summer the old folks house across the way plays old records outside but otherwise trees, traffic and rain. Might as well clutter it up with Donna Wilson cards, dry flowers and pieces of glass.

Couple of vintage finds that could probably use some more explanations, pictures from Tynemouth market and a lovely tea tray that I got to try and keep the tea apparatus at uni all in one place, seems a waste of such gorgeous patterning.

New things are happening over at Terracotta Lily, keep posted for new prettiness.

Concepts and cookies

Today was a busy-busy day. Meetings. Research. Coffee. Meetings. Tea. Catch up. Tea. Lots went on. But let us just pause and appreciate the wonder that is these cookies. I got the recipe online but have lost the where, and it was American, and my cups are never the size an American cup is so they probably aren't 'right'. It's not a unit of measurement, k?

I found that hedghog waiting for me at the Westoe fair, she's called Nettles. As a child, my mother never bought me teddies, said they're horrid. Now I'm a grown up, I can buy my own and everything.

And the plate's vintage Tupperware, I didn't even know they did ceramics, I love the plate. I love the cookies.

I may need to sit down.

Rubbish

Lot's more tidying to do today but chekkit out...

Our bathroom bin looks like a Pixar character, cuttest rubbish I've ever seen.

Before

My studio is a mess.

I don't even recognise what part of the room this picture is of.

My potting bench that I bought from Morrisons, not only has a massive lean to it, but an unidentified object wrapped in a tablecloth.

This plant has been dead since 2009.

I forgot I made this.

Wish me luck.

Q & A

I love Elle Decoration. I heart it beyond any other publication (even Peter David's X Factor, and I bliddy love that comic) and many times, many, many times, have dumped draft love letters to Michelle Ogundehin. I day dreamed that I would bump into her in the V & A whilst I was in London and be able to pretend not to be a massive fan girl over her editorial skills.
Instead of gushing, I thought I'd pretend that MO was interviewing me for the pages of Elle Decoration as she skillfully did in the September issue for astrologist Shelley von Strunkel. And if you don't have the September edition, shame on you! Two editorials on design and a trend predictor for next season. Go. Buy. Create.
And any one of these questions could fill an entire post so it's value for money/time.

Tell me five words to describe yourself...
Crafting adventurer adores armchair luxuries
What's your favourite film?
It changes often but I love the 1958 romantic comedy Houseboat with Cary Grant and Sophia Loren.

What book are you reading right now?
I'm reading The Invisibles by Grant Morrison and Cranford by Elizabeth Gaskell. Talk about diversity.

What is your greatest fear?
Hurting myself. Losing a limb. Blood in general.
What is your favourite virtue?
Honesty with a dash of diplomacy.
Who is your favourite fictional hero?
I love Tuppence Beresford from Agatha Christie's mind, she's brave, clever and funny. She's no nonsense too, is Tuppence.

Who would you most like to have been?
Josiah Wedgwood, I'd love to have been at the cutting edge, be the founding father of something.

Who would you most like to meet?
I'd love to meet Gabriel Garcia Marquez, I bet you could have an amazing conversation with him. Though I'd have to admit to still not having read his autobiography. That might be a conversation killer.

Tell me something that annoys you.
Negativity. It's my biggest flaw so I hate to see it in anyone else.
Your house is burning down, what do you grab?
Daniel, he's first obviously. Our laptops are like our children. The wedgwood coffee cups and possibly the Notting Hill blend of tea from the Tea Palace, then we could have a cuppa whilst we waited for the fire brigade.
Are you religious?
I envy people who have faith but no. I just try to be a good person rather than obey someone elses rules.
Do you collect anything?
Tea cups, (particular weakness for Wedgwood archive collection) coffee cups, comics, books about plants but not plants.

Do you believe in love at first sight?
Yes. But I also believe in dislike at second sight.
What talent would you most like to have?
I'd love to be able to make a decent cup of coffee, the skill escapes me and I have to do special trips out when I want one.
What can't you live without?
Company, whether it's a real solid person or a facsimile of one.
If you were an animal, what would you be?
A hedghog, outwardly cute but occasionally prickly.

If you had to lose one of your sense, which would it be?
Hearing I suppose, or speech, there are better ways to communicate.
What does luxury mean to you?
Not doing the dishes.
Do you believe in luck?
No, I believe in happiness.
Do you have a motto?
I tell myself not to steal. Not to steal someone's pride or happiness or self-respect or clothes. It helps keep me feeling moral and original.

LD

As promised

I promised to do a post about the wood firing with Lois Maude Blacklock, Kahli Lee and Megan Randall so here it is.
It rained a lot whilst we were firing. It's hot work so sometimes it wasn't a bad thing, unfortunately, the fire wasn't even going here.

The sun came out but I didn't trust it enough to take my waterproof off.

The man with beard turned out alright, quite a big crack but interesting texture. Some of the work possibly underfired or maybe just had a little too much iron in the body (stoneware) and so went metallicy.


I had an awesome time with these ladies, they're hardcore and not at all afraid to sleep in sheds in order to have a good time.


Oh- and I nearly broke Lois's nose whilst rubbing charcoal all over her face, that smile, is the smile of a woman who is either holding in tears or planning my downfall. But you can't tell that because she's so purdy.
Oh again- mad photo skills are courtesy of Megan Randall, soon to be PhD.

Roses grow from poo

It's true, good things can come from $&!£ and the riots are just manure for the people of Britain. I'm not going to pretend to understand the causes, the timeline or the people involved. I'm not going to condemn kids who did this nor am I going to preach about people doing the same. I'm just going to celebrate all of the lovely things that Britains do when we're in a corner.

Whether it's the couple who served tea to riot police, you can read their story here.
Or the people who showed up to clean up in the morning. The people who are trying to do something for the Malaysian man who was mugged.
Or the Operation Cup of Tea on facebook (trending on twitter) all about keeping people safe, saying 'no' and making sure people don't go all vigilante on the looters. There are more things happening on tiny human scales as well, that I obviously can't link to, but we all know it's there.
If you can think of any I've missed, just say.

Phooey!

I posted the same video twice, I am a poo-head of the highest order. I get a prize, a medal and a pat on the back for being daft. Apologies intrepid reader, my copy and paste skills are not what they once were.

Nokia 'Dot' from Sumo Science on Vimeo.

Loosing time

Meant to be cracking on, but have you seen this?

Gulp. The world's largest stop-motion animation shot on a Nokia N8. from Nokia HD on Vimeo.

That's the kind of viral advertising I can get behind. There's also this one.

Gulp. The world's largest stop-motion animation shot on a Nokia N8. from Nokia HD on Vimeo.

May not get on with this work for a while...x

The day after the market before

It rained. The lights were broken. And although I met a bunch of lovely people they were mostly stall holders rather than customers, which, is fine, I got some feedback that should help so lets crack on. Today I will be working through 'Craft Inc. Business Planner' from Meg Mateo Ilasco, it claims to be 'the Ultimate Organizer for turning your crafts into cash'. I got it at The Baltic Shop but I'm sure you can get it at other online stores.

And I'm looking for other markets, both for me and for everyone at Sunderland Glass and Ceramics to sell at to get to New Designers. Think I might be going to the North Tyneside indoor market on the 28th for some research, anyone know if it's any good? Oh, and thanks to Lucy Farfort's list of markets, it's a revelation, check it out here.

Howdy

I've been looking at these plates so long now I don't even know if I like them any more, except I do know, and I do. In fact, they may be the best things I've ever done. That may be the gajillion cups of tea I've had today but gaze upon their wonder.



Daniel and I are going for an adventure tomorrow, getting to Newcastle from South Shields usually isn't too much of a fanny on, but the metros are off. So adventure with many pots on public transport. Exciting, eh? Will I get to the Cluny in one piece? Will the work get there at all? Will anyone leave the house to get to a craft market when the weather has been being a bit mental? What an adventure!