I should have written and recorded a lot of events since last I wrote, but I just haven't been
capable of doing this,
I had decided that when I started "blogging" or keeping a diary of events I would try to restrict it to the things that involved the gallery, my life outside of that [which isn't very much] I have wanted to keep private, or at least as best as I could.
I know I have lapsed, and at times have mentioned my family.
But I have decided that isn't such all bad, as things that happen outside the gallery have a great influence on what I may or may not do, or what art I will show.
So much depends upon a state of mind as the running of the gallery is a very personal thing.
But one event has happened which perhaps I shouldn't write about but It has affected me very deeply and I feel that I must record it, and then never mention it again.
I have mentioned in the past that we have three Old English Sheepdogs.
They are the dearest friends I have ever known, whatever happens in my life they have always been there to listen to my version of events without judging me, and have licked me afterwards to register their concern.
Well, we all know that "life is what happens".
My life has just had a massive blow. Our oldest dog [friend] died at the weekend and has left a gap in our lives so large it will take a long time to heal.
I know in time it will heal and that we will eventually look back and remember the good times.
I know that I shouldn't be writing this but I just feel that it would cheapen his importance to me if I just let the event pass.
He was my best friend and now he has gone.
I will always miss him, and I hope that his gentle trusting nature teaches me a lesson in life.
He was both my little boy and greatest friend, I have confided in him many times with my problems and every time he had the the best solution, a look from his eyes then a big lick.
With that done, I will just make a short note about different things, then perhaps come back to them when I have pictures that go with them.
At the weekend there was a large ceramic fair in the grounds of an old stately home at Hatfield, this event is now in its seventeenth year and is a "must" in the calendar of pottery collectors.
Like many things in life the legend overtakes the event, and I must admit I have found the last couple of years a little disappointing, but, there is always something new to see and is a chance to meet many old friends in one place without the need to travel.
Under the circumstances at home I would not have gone but I had made commitments to some people and I had promised the sculptor Emma Rodgers that I would meet her there and photograph her two beautiful little girls and produce "fairy/fantasy" pictures of them,
we have talked of this for about three years but have never got around to doing it, so with a location we could both reach we had decided upon Sunday as "the" day.
This was the day that my world was shattered.
On Irene's urging I did eventually get there, and I am glad that I did.
Meeting with Emma [who was so understanding of how I felt] and a few other good friends
lifted my spirits and after taking the promised photographs I even had time to talk with a few new ceramic artists and left with some of their work.
It is strange that such a sad day did have some happy touches.
I have a lot of interesting things to show from the day, and when they are photographed I will
show them, along with a couple of pictures of Emma's delightful little girls, although when you see the pictures the will be in an antique fairy land of my imagination.
I had promised to show pictures of Novie Trump's ceramic sculptures but I have only had time to photograph one so here it is above, and just so that this post has something visual to go with it I have included two new Michael Parkes stone lithographs which have just arrived from San Francisco.
I'm off now to be welcomed home by my two beautiful dogs.