i couldn't resist this exquisitely beautiful pot by studio potter vanessa bullick. her "pots are thrown on the wheel using stoneware clay. slip resists are applied to create patterns and textures on burnished pots which are then sawdust fired in a variety of wood shavings including oak, sycamore and pine to give different effects". just wonderful.
26 February 2012
20 February 2012
16 February 2012
every time i go to tremough i always intend to search for the old convent. today i had time for a little wander and i made my way through the sprawling new-build campus to a big old house, walled garden and orchard. i've never really been able to make a connection between tremough and woodlane. in my mind, woodlane is the art college- with buildings steeped in history that are an integral part of falmouth and that have grown with falmouth over the years. the neighbouring fox rosehill gardens are stunning and form an exotic plant lined cut-through towards gylly.
tremough, on the other hand, feels like a vast ever-expanding construction site- tall cranes and soul-less buildings dwarf the ancient town of penryn. new student flats are being squeezed into the tiniest plots of land. the small patch of woodland at the bottom of a friend's garden has been felled and awaits the planning go ahead and the town railway station is being swallowed up by a tower block! i'm not against tremough, just astonished at the lack of thought and sensitivity in creating a harmonious balance between a new university and a historic town and its community.
anyway, rant aside, it was interesting to discover the old part of the campus and although i didn't find any evidence of nuns, walking through the gardens gave me a hint of a connection to woodlane. and maybe at some point in the past this bath has seen a nun wash away her unclean thoughts or, better still, enjoy a soapy romp with the gardener.
|inside a water tank in the walled garden|
15 February 2012
i like going back to visit my old house. my family moved to lanhydrock when I was 15. it was a difficult time. suddenly we were living in an old cottage in the grounds of a stately home in a far away land. it was like going back in time.
the track to "our" house is lined with a thin scattering of bleached and finely-veined filigree magnolia leaves. some are so thin and skeletal that they are barely there. i'm drawn to the velvety silver-white bloom on the underside, a sharp contrast to the dark waxy top surface. intricate networks of veins form rivers and tributaries viewed from the air.