Wye Valley Sculpture Garden

Freya by Emma Kemp

One of the perks of staying in  Lichen cabin was entry to the Wye Valley Sculpture Garden, even though it wasn't officially open at the time. Gemma Kate Wood has her studio here and is the organiser of an annual exhibition in the grounds.

Situated high on the hillside, the garden itself is worth a visit with stunning views over the valley, and ponds to sit by in quiet contemplation. 

detail of Standing Peacock by Hayley Jones

The sculptures are constructed from a wide range of materials - metal, wood and glass perhaps being the favourites. Some are representational, others abstract, all beautiful in their own way.

In prominent view or situated in a quiet half-hidden nook, the art works bring an extra 'something' to the garden. 

I haven't posted all of my photos as being taken on a phone they aren't brilliant representations of the sculptures but more importantly I feel this is a place you need to go and experience for yourself.

More details - of opening hours, charges and featured artists - can be found online here 
 I was so lucky to catch the setting up of the exhibition but another time I might time my visit to the cabin for it being fully open.

Sipping and Painting with LibbyAyres Art

This time last week I was off on a rather special outing to Manchester - to an evening of Sip and Paint with my daughter. As LibbyAyres Art, she's been holding these events every couple of months or so for about the last year but I haven't had the opportunity to go along till now.

The event was held at Grub, an independent street food venue, in an upstairs room decorated with fairy lights and candles, with food available from the vendors in the courtyard.  There was a range of options but I had pork and cabbage dumplings with noodles, and very nice they were too. And for the sipping part of the evening I had a citrusy sour ale.

Then we got down to the serious business of the evening, with my daughter explaining about her synaesthesia, and talking us through what we'd be doing that evening. The music she'd be painting along to was You're the One that I Want from Grease, which came up every third track on the playlist, and we could either copy her exactly, paint our own interpretation of the music, or create something totally different. I went for a sort of middle route.

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This (above) is my daughter's version but although I started off trying to follow her with a swirly blue background, as I progressed, and the music played over and over, I felt I wanted to make my painting a little different, with curly flicks of red. So this (below) is mine. 

One thing I loved was that there was no pressure to create a masterpiece (I've been along to have-a-go art events where there definitely was!). Everyone was free to do as they like, to sit and paint all evening or wander off for food and drinks. Libby wandered among the tables, offering encouragement or answering questions about her synaesthesia.

It was definitely a fun evening, and I feel that I understand synaesthesia a little better now. 

You can find out more about LibbyAyresArt, and her upcoming events here on her Instagram account

and Grub here 

The next Sip and Paint event is 31st March 

LibbyAyres Art Exhibition

Solsbury Hill: Peter Gabriel

I'm just back from a couple of very exciting days away in Manchester, going to see my daughter's first exhibition of her synaesthetic art at GK Gallery in Salford. 

Scenes From An Italian Restaurant: Billy Joel

 Synaesthesia presents itself in a variety of ways but for my daughter it's seeing colours and patterns when listening to music. All of the paintings here are of specific songs or instrumental pieces - from Vivaldi's Four Seasons to Billy Joel's Scenes From An Italian Restaurant.  

Raglan Road: Luke Kelly

 Obviously this isn't the first time I've seen my daughter's work - after all when living at home she painted in the garage, and I've been along to her stalls at craft markets - but it's amazing to see them up on a gallery wall. 

Close up you can see how texture plays an important part in the work, with paint piled on paint, and ridges and grooves cutting through the layers.

Solsbury Hill close up

Four Seasons:Vivaldi

The actual connection between sound and finished art work is always a mystery to me. I often find myself attracted to a piece representing music I don't like, or a song I like will have an interpretation which seems bland and unappealing; both of which seem strange. 

La Vie En Rose: Edith Piaf

If I've piqued your curiosity, the gallery is on Chapel Street in Salford (near the old hospital), and, alongside the exhibition and other crafts for sale, you'll find a small cafe serving  tea, coffee and scrumptious cakes. The exhibition runs till around 6th December, and LibbyAyres runs regular Sip & Paint events at GRUB where you can explore synaethetic art for yourself, and will have a stall at their Christmas market.

 For more images and info find LibbyAyresArt on Insta

Pick-me-ups required

 Last weekend the house was full, if not overflowing, with family here for a celebration. Such times, particularly at the moment, always lead to an anticlimax. The days afterwards always seem as flat and hollow as this disaster of a birthday cake, while I struggle to get back into my everyday routine.

It's a bit like empty-nesting all over again, feeling in need of a pick-me-up, and trying to work out how to spend my time.

The weather hasn't helped. There's been unpredictable rain most days - the forecast's seem to be really inaccurate this summer. predicting dry days which turn out wet, and wet ones which inexplicably turn out dry   - making it impossible to plan days out. So it's been an 'at home' week. 

This is when I appreciate having a garden - I'll wander outside and, even if I'd not intended gardening, something  that should be done will catch my eye. There are always weeds to uproot, a plant fallen over the path that ought to be cut, or a few blueberries that need to be picked. 

 Or perhaps, rain permitting, I'll just sit and watch butterflies among the buddleia and goldenrod, or the antics of the poor unmaternal pigeon carrying out nest repairs while the chicks coo inside it.

The constant stream of vegetables brought home from the allotment by my husband  also keeps me busy. The freezer is already full with cauliflowers and broad beans, but the courgette glut continues, with the search for new exciting ways to eat them (piccalilli is my latest idea), and now runner beans are starting to crop.

On quiet days, while my husband's occupied at the allotment, I've turned my thoughts to an on-and-off art project that I'm trying to make more time for. A couple of years ago at Melbourne Festival I discovered artist Helen Hallows, and I've joined a sort-of online art club she runs. I'm frequently talking about doing something creative but never seem to keep up the initial impetus. Before the pandemic, I'd been thinking about taking part in one of her 'real life' courses, and i'm still toying with the idea of an on-line course, though I worry about my intermittent application. Meanwhile, Helen's prompts and sharing of images help give me focus and direction, and encourage me to do something, even if only doodling, every day. 

I've also started planning ahead in vague ways. Firstly, once the August rush is over to go to the seaside, and a grander sort of plan of what I might do (coronavirus etc permitting) to markthe run up to my 65th birthday. For my 60th I tried to do sixty new things and I'm looking at a similar idea - new places to go, new things to see, and if I do it in the run-up to my birthday I'll be starting next Spring! Time to put some ideas together.

For a final pick me up for the week, I thought a little treat from the online sales was in order - now I just need some sunshine to be able to wear my new purchases.

Looking forward to winter?

Today is a bright sunny day. Blue sky is appearing from behind the clouds, and it looks like an excellent day for getting outside walking or gardening.

But winter is on the way. With its short days and bad weather, it's never the best time of year, and with the renewed threat of coronavirus, and possible disruptions to whatever we might have planned for Christmas holiday season it's looking more depressing than usual. 

By now I would normally have a number of evenings out planned at gigs or the theatre (summer is off-season as bands do the rounds of festivals, and theatres take a break) but even the limited socially-distanced events I've seen advertised don't seem all that appealing, and I don't want to risk booking anything for spring as who knows what the situation may be then. 

It's time to face it - this winter is going to be one spent at home.

Time I think for a cunning plan, or at least to find ways to make the time pass in a not-too-dismal fashion. The thought of curling up under a blanket with a box-set running on TV is tempting, but having something to focus on and achieve - from creativity indoors to exercise outside - is essential for me; it stops me worrying constantly about the pandemic and its effect on all our lives.

Outdoors, I'll be spending time in the garden whenever possible; at the moment there are apples to pick and trees to trim, so I'm occupied out there while it's fine. There won't be so much to do as we head into winter, but shortly into New Year seed-sowing for flowers and veg starts again, and as soon as we reach February I'll be searching the flowerbeds each day for the first signs of snowdrops.

Having got back a reasonable level of fitness (after the laziness of early lockdown), I want to maintain, and even improve, it. I'm trying to get my step count higher each week, so I'll be trying to keep up one day out walking each week, weather permitting. For the past couple of years Zoe at Splodzblogz has been challenging herself and her followers to get outside for an hour each day throughout November. I joined in last year, even though I didn't manage to do it every day, and again it's one of those things to give focus to the days. I'm not sure if she's intending to do the same this year, but I'm going to try anyway. 

Obviously at this time of year indoors can frequently seem more appealing than out, and I'm planning to take time out for 'me time'. Not the soaking in a candle-lit bath vibe, but things which absorb my attention and make a little semi-creative bubble in which I can lose myself.

I've rediscovered my clothes making mojo during lockdown. I was trying anyway to do a combination of buy no new clothes and use up the stash, so it fitted well. I've finished a couple of skirts, am in the middle of another, and, as I still wear trousers more than skirts, I'm thinking of taking some old, relegated to the back of the wardrobe, long floaty skirts in brushed cottons and turning them into tops. For evenings in front of the TV, I'm starting to plan ahead what I might use from from wool stash to make cardigans/jumpers for winter. I'm still making a summer one in cotton (!) but need to move onto warmer things soon.

Over the past few months, I've also revived my interest in cooking - prompted by the intermittent gluts of produce that come from the allotment. Earlier in the year we had an unprecedented surplus of cauliflower (a lot ended up in the freezer). More recently there's been an abundance of kale, and I've enjoyed finding new ways to use it - from stir fries to soups to chilli. Looking through recipe books and sorting out the numerous recipes cut from magazines keeps me occupied in itself, even without the end result of dinner. I've found myself starting to plan meals several days ahead (something I hardly ever do) and trying something new at home seems like a better idea at the moment than eating out. Over winter there'll be less allotment produce, but the stored apples, pumpkins, and beetroot will be looking for innovative ways to be eaten. And, way behind the trend as always, I could even start a sourdough culture.

One of my resolutions this year had been to find time for something creative, and at last I've organised myself enough to do it. I'd hoped to be able to join a 'real' art group or take a short course or two but neither is possible with coronavirus. Instead I've joined an on-line art group which is giving me the necessary 'push' I needed to take up pencils and scrawl, and also to allow myself time to do it.

In many ways this feels like setting out New Years resolutions. I'm hoping all these plans will give me something to focus on over the coming months, instead of feeling cooped up, waiting impatiently for spring.

Manchester - old and new

Another weekend in Manchester - and more new places to discover.

First off, Salford Quays. I've heard a lot about this area (in fact people seem surprised that I've never been on previous visits to Manchester), so as our daughter was at a Maker's Market in the area, I wanted to have a look around - both outside, and then round the Lowry Gallery itself.









The old quays have completely gone, their warehouses replaced by funky new housing developments.

Even the bridges are futuristic! 

This is definitely one of Manchester's modern areas, but it's more brutal concrete than, say, the high-rise glass buildings of Spiningfields, and it's not a look which appeals to me.















Inside the Lowry was confusing and very busy with a national gymnastics competition taking place in part of the building, but someone was on hand to point us in the direction of the gallery. As you might guess, a lot of space is given over to the paintings of LS Lowry. Oddly I found myself more attracted to his later works, scenes of industrial desolation, rather than the better known 'matchstalk men' paintings. The temporary exhibition - The State of Us - proved to be uncomfortable for both of us; very low level lighting plus flash of light and random noises from the displays played havoc with my sight and hearing, so we didn't stay long.




We'd stayed, as we often do, in an Air BnB and accidentally discovered that we were just a few hundred yards from  Ordsall Hall.












Once a manor house in the middle of fields and orchards, it's now an odd oasis of Tudor charm surrounded by modern houses and factories. This was much more my kind of thing!

Inside the rooms have been recreated much as they would have been in Tudor times - beds with hangings, a curtained bath, and (imitation) food waiting to be prepared in the kitchen.

















Outside there's a Tudor knot garden, an allotment demonstrating how the land was used during WW1, and a moat, usually dry under the wings of these wooden swans, but not last weekend.

It's that odd juxtaposition of old and new that always startles me in Manchester though.

Onward, on our way home, on the other side of Manchester, lies Lyme (famous for the Mr Darcy swimming exploits of the BBC/Colin Firth series of Pride and Prejudice) 

I didn't spot Mr D, not even when looking through this hidden peep-hole, or walking by the lake, but the house was fascinating - more elaborate and richly decorated than the severe straight lines of its exterior might lead you to expect.

It's now owned by the National Trust, and visitors encouraged to almost feel at home - to play the piano in the entrance hall, or billiards in the Long Gallery, or sit and read in the library. It's a large house though, with lots to explore and if we'd attempted any of them we'd probably never have got home.







As it was, we only had time for a brief look at the gardens before heading off. I'll be back in better weather to see more.