I'm building something

THE LIDO WOBBLED DANGEROUSLY AND THEY SQUEALED WITH FEAR (Farthing Wood Friends)

An opportunity to rent a shop space recently came up and I got excited, which for me means early morning insomnia. I imagined what it might be like to have a studio so close to home and the beach, and school and nursery and the playground - essentially my whole world right now.

My mind wandered to the wider community - artists, makers, local art goers, young budding artists, and I had an idea, or lots of them, to be precise. I took the space. There was an air of opportunity about it, a bit like when we relocated, we sensed the potential. Like with anything, of course, the idea hadn’t just magically appeared, rather it had been brewing for the last two or so years, it just didn’t have a name yet, or a location.

Thanks mum for the pic.

I got the keys at the end of March. A feverish month with little time for reflection. I moved out of my Margate studio - a cosy cocoon of kind, encouraging and supportive women all making their own way. My art practice developed in that small space - helping me find my way back to making after my second baby. A process which felt slower and more deliberate than the first time.

I worked a few things out along the way, some thoughts made their way here. The nagging feeling that there has to be a better way to make this ‘artist mother’ life work. The need for an art practice that can support a life and all that it entails - family, financial pressures, unpredictable events, variable energy levels, our ever changing seasons - so much more prominent living by the sea (or maybe I have slowed down enough to notice). I find my new friends here to be feeling deeply - caring about the full moon - tapped into the tide - open to new things - stopping to listen to each other.

Not my crisp choice.

Thanet comes alive at the end of March. There is a shift - it’s spring. Sometimes it’s no deeper than the months ending and the days lengthening. We all flocked outside. With two young children, I find myself in playgrounds daily. I like the repetition. Unleashing their long and little limbs to roam free. The giddy high of the zip-line. The simplicity of pushing a ball down the slide. These days force me to be present, watch the trees moving, the sky shifting - ‘achieve’ as little as possible.

PARKLIFE.

My new space is coming along. I have big plans and big dreams. It will operate as a studio and exhibition space (featuring both my own work and others); a place to buy artwork; host a drawing show for Thanet; the home of artist talks, masterclasses and regular drawing groups for adults and children; a blank space for crits, art mentoring and playful making for younger years - a cultural hub for Broadstairs. Nestled between Stone Bay and Viking - Margate and Ramsgate - its coastal location will play a huge part in its execution and exploration. It’s ambitious and exciting. I’ll be taking it slow and steady.

The overarching non-variables will be a commitment to high quality experiences and materials - a calm and inviting environment (with carefully planned playlists) - caregiving at the forefront - a responsibility to practicing and promoting sustainable art-making, and - perhaps most importantly - a seasonal approach.

A programme that leads itself to the natural ebbs and flows of the year - pushing you to consider your place within the environment you find yourself and the life stage you are at. We are all in different seasons, why not embrace it?

Broadstairs>Ramsgate.

I will be sharing the whole journey with you here on my newsletter - inviting you in - sharing events and opportunities, and pushing as much online as possible (because I know how it feels to not be able to attend things you really want to).

I want to have a conversation. I want you to feel invited to be a part of it.

A place to embrace your ambitions, commit and find a routine for your creativity that works around your existing life. As much as I believe in the creative spark - those ideas that just land in your lap - the magic - I also know, often, it is the simple act of showing up that makes the most difference - week after week - even when you don’t want to. Facing outward, as my lovely friend reminded me on the weekend.

I hope you’ll join me.

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