MAKING BIRDS FROM SCRAP WOOD, RECYCLING OLD WINDOWS, AND THE COST OF BROWSING

 

I get joy, a buzz, a real thrill, call it what you will in preparing a meal made entirely from my own garden. There is a similar satisfaction when creating something from scrap and discarded materials that have cost me nothing. I’ve always lived a frugal life, and it seems only natural that it is reflected in at least some of my creations, whether that be culinary or artistic. Art is everywhere, even in the economy of thrift. One see less of this on the islands these days with the possibility of ordering everything on line. While I have nothing against the practicality of this amazing service, I still find myself wondering if I should perhaps take a look in the shed and see if I can cobble something together. It may not last very long before eventually finding its way to the skip, but for now it will do. So, when a friend gave me two tomato plant and a cucumber I knew I would have to construct something in the way of protection if they were to survive. The bitter easterly wind is still with us, but within the ruin of the old lambing shed I found shelter. Two years ago my brother had new sash windows fitted down in Cornwall and I brought up the remaining old sashes that weren’t rotten. Last year I used them as a makeshift cold frame, but had dismantled that at the end of the year. I was given a large section of plastic from the neighbour’s tunnel after a fire had melted one end, so had everything I needed to create a Hebridean greenhouse. Now with the long days the south facing inner wall gets plenty of sun, and although it’s not the prettiest of things, at least it’s hidden from view, tucked down below the wall and around the back of the studio.

When, last autumn another neighbour was chucking out a pile of old wood from a demolished shed he delighted that I remove it rather than him have to pay some to clear it. My first thought was chop it up for kindling, something I’m always in need of, and so I set to filling four large sack before the creative mode took over. I put a load of planks posts and V lining under cover to dry out over winter, and this spring took another look at it all. Some of the boards were sound, while others that had been used as garden fencing had some interesting worn and crackled paint. I started cutting out small birds from the pine planks which proved relatively easy to whittle and sand down. I remembered I had some length of wire that looked like they’d been made for bicycle spokes, and for once found them without too much bother. Although the workshop and loft space house a very large quantity of materials for making, my filing system leaves much to be desired, and while I know I haven’t thrown it out, locating it can be a bore. On these occasions I find myself discovering other bits I’d saved from way back, and then I get side-tracked into yet another uncompleted project. The wire was perfect for the bird’s legs, and the more weathered V lining and varied scraps would be perfect as a supporting background. The birds where painted over a white undercoat, which has given then an exaggerated brilliance. The gouache paint I discover in the village skip when you could still have a good rummage. Probably a Christmas present for a child who failed to show any interest in using them. I selected a variety of supports from burnt heather twigs to old turn finials, and I’m sure someone will be charmed by them. A little bird about the house that doesn’t require a cadge and makes no mess. If I was really clever I might have incorporated a bit of modern technology so they would also sing. I envisage them ranging in price from £65 to £165. It is not always easy pricing work, but being individual and handmade puts them way above the mass produced category. 

 

The gallery and studio have over the winter months become crammed with new work, but also a mass of decorative objects, and today I decided I would start charging an entry fee. This would be refunded if a purchase was made. I have items ranging in price from single figures up to four figures, and an entry fee will I feel encourage people to have a proper look rather than a quick browse. For those who are themselves very creative they may well be inspired by what they see, and that will easily cover the cost of entry. When I first started in business down in Cornwall selling antiques in the late 70’s I would ask people as they came in if I could help, or if they were looking for anything in particular. The reply was more often than not, “no I’m just browsing”. At the height of the holiday season I was obliged to lock the door and put a sign saying please ring the bell for attention. I would hear the door handle being turned and then more often than not they would go away. We get very little passing trade this side of the island and I’ve only had two people calling this year, so yes to ask for an entry fee may well reduce that to zero, but then they will inevitably be the ones who are just killing time.  My time has become too precious to be wasted, my opening hours are becoming increasingly erratic in accordance with my health, however I am more than happy to spend it with people who are genuinely interested, and not simply browsing like a herd of cattle.