All or nothing.

It seems to be the case with almost everything in life

but at the moment I am referring to life in the gallery.

After an unprecedented fantastic start to the year I had started to find myself in the position where I was thinking "we could run out of art".

This is something that "couldn't" happen as we always have twice as much as we can show at any given time, so I suppose what I mean is the more unusual collectible pieces.

Although I don't want to sit on the fence and decide what is or not collectible.

What I am trying to describe are the different objects/art that I love but which I have recognised are perhaps a little too unusual, or only for the discerning taste.

Here I go again.

What I am trying to say is that the things that I love I have come to understand are a little unusual, and in fact you can't buy them elsewhere.

A strange thing is people love to buy what they have seen elsewhere, they start to believe that

this must be good because they have seen it before.

Don't ask me to explain it, I'm just an idiot who loves unusual things that you can't find elsewhere.

So it seems that my beautiful "things" are being recognized for the for the incredible art that they are, and suddenly the demand for them has gone beyond anything that I have experienced and it had started to play at the back of my mind that maybe "things are selling too fast".

What a dilemma!

I'm sure that if you spoke to any shop holder at the moment then this would be a dream come true. After all they only have to pick up the telephone and order "more of the same".

It doesn't work like that for us.

I love everything here and I really want it to sell, both for us and the artist, but when it does I always feel a sense of loss, and then the worry.

"How am I going to get "anything" to replace that?

These times are the best and the worst.

So having spent the past week worrying as I watched more and more pieces disappear,

then thinking "how can I replace them", nature has stepped in.

"Human nature", that is.

Different people have called me asking "are you OK or do you need something new"?

"Yes please", has been my reply to everyone.

So now I find that my cup may soon overflow [impossible].

New art from people like Paul Priest, Lucinda Brown, Gaynor Ostinelli, Tamsin Abbott.

All at once, plus the expectation of new pieces by the famous sculptor Emma Rodgers.

Add to this an imminent exhibition with sculptures by Anne Morrison and paintings by Lindsey Carr, I'm suddenly back where I want to be.

Too much beautiful work with not enough space to display it all.

On top of this, in the background have been some things "bubbling away", or to be more precise orders for various unusual sculptures from Karen. Her sculptures are always in demand but this is the first time that we have had a 'backlog' of commissions for her.

Time has been pressing as different buyers needed their sculptures by definite but different dates, which have all been drawing closer, and closer.

Unfortunately because of the distance between us Karen and I meet only a few times a year, but this meeting couldn't be put off any longer. So we arranged a "collection".

That of course is an artistic term for "meet you halfway down the A1 at a service station".

It's such a high life in the art world, I have just come to love motorway coffee.

This meeting was different, not only was I collecting pre-sold commissions but Karen had also decided to "have a play" and to give me some new things that she was "mucking" about with.

They were a breath of fresh air, so innocent yet beautiful.

Being a girl from "up't north", she had made me some northern wildlife sculptures.

I suppose they could be southern wildlife but these all had "attitude" and reflected the area where she lives.

An ex-mining community. Not "ex" by their choosing but by the decision of the past Tory Government under the leadership of Margaret Thatcher.

The time when there was a war against miners and the union that represented them.

I don't need to record my own memories of this as it is all now history, but sadly the unemployment that followed isn't.

Where she lives is a very sad "ugly" but "beautiful" location.

It is a photographers dream.

Watching the "old boys" sitting outside their allotment sheds, or releasing their racing pigeons, or even just pushing old prams along the road laden with salvaged building materials, wonderful but a sad place.

The reminder of a life gone by, what was a vibrant community now just a place of mass unemployment.

It is in this environment that Karen works, with a house and garden full children, animals and love. It is full of life and happiness, which is why they have so many visitors.

The door is never locked and when pushing it open you have no idea who might greet you.

Her latest creations are "animals of northern England".

I have them here.

They are totally innocent, devoid of any pretension and are made "because I wanted to".

We have Badgers, dressed up for a "night on the town", Robins wearing "cloth caps" and old "schoolteacher owls", all of them dressed up for the northern climate with their leather waistcoats, little scarves and polished boots.

Most amazingly of all she gave me a "Woodcock Pilot".

Never heard of it?

Nor had I, but apparently the Woodcock and the Goldcrest, both migrating birds arrive on the northeastern coastline from Europe at the same time each year .

The Goldcrest is far too small to have flown over the North Sea, so according to myth and legend they rode on the back of the much larger Woodcock, so arriving at the same time.

They were the "Woodcock Pilots".

As far as I know, but I will have to check with the 'Natural History Museum' we are the first

people to exhibit this phenomenon.

If I had time I would show more, but time I have little of so here are a very few of her

Northern Creatures.

A year ago, for the very first time we exhibited the paintings by an artist named

Lindsey Carr.

I had admired her incredible and very unusual work for some time and was desperate to get her

work here on show in the gallery. As usual I can't remember how I came to know of her and I have no recollection of how we made contact, but we did, and of course in the fullness of time she showed with us. It was a joint exhibition with another incredible artist Mark Rowney.

In fact I have a feeling that their show together might have been my first ever post and attempt

at "blogging" [or talking to myself as it now feels].

At her first showing we sold only a couple of paintings and this bothered me, but not much.

Before she left to go home I asked if she would come back in a years time and have a solo exhibition of her unusual work. Her first and our first, if you know what I mean.

She agreed, and now here we are one year later with the days to the opening racing past.

Of course as time passed we sold everything that she had shown with us, something that wasn't too hard as Lindsey has built up [in her own quite way] a massive following.

During one short year she has gone on to greater and greater things, her work is seen around the World and is in greater demand.

But, if you were to talk to her you would never know of this.

She is modest, too modest.

No, that is incorrect, she has no vanity whatsoever and produces her art because she can and she wants to. She has no quest for greatness, just to produce great art.

This she has achieved but the only person unaware of this is her, like all real artists she

"just knows it can be better".

This week she told me that one beautiful painting wasn't good enough to show and that she would have to do it again.

Really? It looked fantastic to me.

But that doesn't matter she is working to her own standards not other peoples, and that I can

totally appreciate and feel humbled by.

She is way behind with the paintings and "toys" that she had intended to produce for us,

as recently a terrible event occurred in her life.

Why she didn't call me and cancel the exhibition I will never know, but I think that she felt that she owed it to me because she understood how much I wanted to show her art.

So this week we had a "wee" chat [as she would describe it] and I now have a greater understanding of what she is trying to do for me, and with very little time to do it.

What can I say?

Nothing , or at least nothing to convey how touched by the effort she is going to.

But I think in a way the exhibition will help her and give her a focus and a goal.

She is doing something to help someone else.

That someone is me.

She didn't want to let me down or disappoint me, plus she must know that their are a lot of people who are excited and looking forward to this rare event.

So in just a very short space of time she has been producing some incredible and totally different work. As and when she could she has sent me "snaps" of work in progress.

I couldn't be more excited, if only I could afford them I would purchase everything for myself.

I truly believe that this is a young woman who is on the verge of greatness.

But don't tell her that, she wouldn't understand what you were talking about.

Her paintings have always been beautiful but the new work has a gentleness and real sensitivity to it.

As one of her collectors in America told me earlier this week,

"it is all telling a story, I want to know that story".

I think the story is there for us all to see, or at least interpret in a way that means something to ourselves.

I have put some of her snaps on our web site and the response has been incredible, in fact I am

starting to worry in case there will be nothing left unsold when we open the door for the opening.

It had originally been intended as a one woman exhibition,

but now we have mutually agreed that it will be a two woman show.

Lindsey's paintings will be shown alongside the sculptures of Anne Morrison.

Both from Glasgow and both producing moving art.

It was one piece of Anne's that has given birth to the title of the exhibition.

'Wings Of Hope'.

It so fitted the events in Lindsey's life that I could think of no other.

I will tell you of Anne soon, but firstly here is a little of what we will show by Lindsey.

At the moment we are in what is considered the "dead time" of the year.

Many shops close for a few weeks, the owners taking holidays, decorating or just sitting at home.

It is the time when traditionally sales are bad as the public have spent all there money over the Christmas period, well that's the theory anyway.

Certainly, there are more than a few shops near us that are closed and others are open for just a few hours each day, I have a feeling some that are closed may never re-open, because believe it or not there is a recession on at the moment.

Well not at the moment actually, its been going on for a long while but it seems people have been afraid to admit it.

Even artists.

Well not all artists as it seems that the good have been unaffected or have even prospered because in uncertain times it seems that people are thinking

"Hell! We can't make any money from the banks so let's put our money into art".

What a good idea.

Lets face it, if you choose wisely and with your heart then you will always have treasure.

If it doesn't make you money then so what? You have something that enriches your life.

In fact the majority of people who purchase good art never make any financial gain from it as they have no intention of ever parting with it.

I like those sort of people.

It is strange this recession thing.

I could tell you many tales of artists in denial who have to pretend that they are unaffected in case people think their work is worthless.

Silly artists, I feel. Also silly buyers if they judge beauty by the number of sales.

I much prefer to talk to someone like Karen, who a couple of years ago called me and announced

"I'm sending you some "Recession Hares".

"Oh, great I will look out for them" I replied, and then started wondering

"what is a recession Hare"?

I admit I am not very good on wildlife and I had never heard of them, so I called her back.

"I know it sounds like a stupid question Karen but what is a Recession Hare"?

"Oh them", she laughed "they are my new Hares that are guaranteed to sell in a time of recession".

She was right, they do.

Thinking about this today it made me realise that this "blip", "credit crunch", "recession" has been around for a while now.

It's a way of life.

So at the moment I am much more enjoying the artists who are just "rolling there sleeves up"

and getting on with what they do best and not wasting energy telling an uninterested world that they are doing "just great"when they aren't.

As I read on a recent post by an American artist, she said that she has been through these times before, "It is a time to up your game and produce your best possible work as there is always a market for good art".

Best advice I have read in a long time.

So how does this relate to me, my gallery?

Everything that we show is chosen from the heart, everything here I would love to own.

Different kinds of art that fascinate me, excite me, and leave me wondering

"how did they think of creating that, what an imagination".

Work that touches all those different parts of our being and soul, that move us in some way.

Many times I have been advised by well intentioned people,

"you should get rid of these and get in things that sell", advice that at times has made me question what we are doing.

"Am I wrong, should I go with the flow"?

My own personal 'Jiminy Cricket' would whisper to me.

Then I argue back "no I would sooner close the door".

It seems that I was right.

For in these uncertain times when I see the closed shops I feel so pleased that we stayed firm.

It seems that the art that moves us also moves others, and for us nothing has changed.

Well there is one small change, I now find that the artists that we have shown over the years

are being chased by other galleries.

It had to happen.

So I have carried on as I always have, and for me the start to the year has been busier than ever.

I arrive home even later and seem to have less time to myself, not more.

The days in the gallery are full, if I'm not selling something then I'm talking about it.

This is my life, and it is fun and a great pleasure.

When the day ends that's when my mails and calls start, when I have a chance to talk to artists.

My time to think and plan.

It is from evenings like these that I find and unearth treasure.

When I can concentrate on what possible reason could I give to an artist I admire in the hope they will "give us a try".

It is from a time such as this that I found myself recently standing at the counter unwrapping a parcel, a painting, an original piece by

Jo March.

I have loved and admired Jo's work for a very long time, and we have shown and sold countless

prints of her work during this time, but never an original.

Indeed I had never seen or held one, only prints and pictures.

I had tried countless times to contact her about a year ago, my calls were always taken by a young boy, her son.

He would explain that she couldn't talk just then, to which I replied every time

"I will call later".

I did, again and again for what seems like weeks, until I eventually accepted that you "can't win them all" and gave up.

Some weeks later I received a call "Hello this is Jo March".

Jo explained the very sad and bad things going on in her life.

She needn't have, but I appreciated that she felt the need to and it explained a lot.

I think we got on, and it was left that "one day she would paint me an original.

Two weeks ago I called her again.

The original arrived at 11.30am one morning a few days later.

Her first painting for a year.

I loved it and was so excited and proud to place it in my "special place" on the wall.

By 4.30pm it was gone.

Isn't that the way of life? People always take what you love away from you.

But it was good.

Jo's life has changed, and in just two weeks we have become good friends.

It is as if we had known each other for a long while, and perhaps we have because it was long ago that I entered the world of her imagination.

Her paintings are all based on real locations, but they are set in the past, in a time of greater innocence and gentleness, they are of a world that is held in our deepest memories and one we would like to return to.

A new string tied [who uses string] parcel arrived today, containing three new treasures from Jo, perhaps these will be with me a little longer.

All I know for certain is that I would like to live in these landscapes.

Only problem is she doesn't paint roads, how do I get there?

So much of the time running a gallery is spent doing the many things that are of no interest to me, no matter how important they are.

Things like accounts, advertising, writing letters, ordering packaging,

etc,etc,etc., the list seems endless.

I don't suppose that it is any different for people who run shops of any kind.

But at times I do wonder how I got into this situation, at times it feels like working in an office, and I am really not an office sort of person.

After all I should be talking to artists, or at the very least talking about them and their work.

So it has been good to be distracted for a few days working on the logistics of a future exhibition.

'Maureen Minchin'

That's the name of the exhibition and the artist, or more to the point the potter.

No! That's incorrect, she is an artist potter.

And it is strange to think that Suffolk's most famous potter lives in Scotland.

Many years ago in a different lifetime I was a potter and I couldn't imagine a day when I wouldn't be making or dreaming about pots.

But life and politics had different plans for me and the time came when I hated pottery and everything connected with it and it was only through Irene's urging that I kept my old wheels

and a kiln or two, plus my box of tools.

Then one day [as they say] I saw in a gallery window a pot that I fell in love with,

and purchased.

[But that is a tale for another day or a tale for later this year].

I understood that I could like pots again if I put history behind me.

So, I did come to admire pots and potters again [not politics] and started to take pleasure from

seeing good pots by good potters, but I was never tempted to purchase again.

I felt that I had seen it all before.

Then one day I found a pot that was unlike any I had ever seen before,

this was by Maureen Minchin.

It wasn't like anything I had ever liked or collected, but I loved it and had to have it.

I couldn't afford it but I loved it.

I have it at home now, because Irene and the kids bought it for my Christmas present.

That's how my love affair of Maureen's work started, and the day we decided to open the gallery she was the first person I contacted.

But she couldn't let me have any pots at that time, as she was very ill plus her own life had taken different directions.

But we kept in touch and eventually she brought me some.

We have had many over the years since, but never a complete exhibition.

It is strange to think that she is probably the best known and most collected potter in East Anglia but she lives in a very remote spot on the west coast of Scotland.

I suppose it's not that hard to understand, as she used to be a Suffolk potter until the day she followed her heart and dreams and moved to the Highlands

[taking her Gypsy caravan with her].

Now she lives in a spot so remote it takes half a day to get to the town.

She is as remote as remote can be.

The view from her small cottage is across the Atlantic, interrupted only by the mountains on

the Islands of Rhum, Eigg and Skye.

It is a location you would dream of living at [well I do].

But as she told me one winter evening "you wouldn't want to live here today, there is a gale from the sea and the roof is moving".

But I still dream of it.

Living in such a remote spot has done nothing to diminish interest in her work, in fact it has increased. She is now as popular in Scotland as she was in East Anglia.

I spoke recently to a gallery owner in Inverness, the morning after the private view of Maureen's last exhibition.

"It was incredible, just like a 'Harrods' sale opening, and the telephone didn't stop with people far away trying to purchase".

I believe her, I have experienced how popular her pottery is, on the occasions that we have been lucky enough to have any, most of it goes to America.

So this April we have our first solo exhibition of Maureen's pots.

We have waited nearly five years for this show, and I just know that the wait will be worthwhile.

Maureen being a true professional has been supplying me with material well in advance.

She understands the amount of work we have to do and does everything to make life that little bit easier. After all it's not easy to promote an artist that sends you nothing before the event,

but it has happened.

Our discussions and the pictures that she has sent have only increased my excitement.

I will come back to talk about her more as the date draws closer I'm sure as we are very committed to this show and are producing a booklet to go with it, plus I will be travelling North to see her and collect pots early in March, so I think for a while I will have nothing on my mind but her and her work.

That's not a bad thing.

Above is a picture of her scenery and daily view [makes me want to cry]. A jug, showing the different sides. A jug that she is working on, drawing through the thin covering of slip to reveal the red clay, then another jug and a dish to match.

These we sent to America some time ago.

I have never made a New Year resolution before as I know that I would be incapable of keeping to it [whatever "it" was], but this year I did.

"My resolution is to finish that bloody picture", I told myself.

The picture in question was a photograph that I had taken about two years ago.

Well really it was a collection of photographs, as I was trying to build a finished picture from

thirteen different shots.

I may have mentioned before that at times people have commented that some of my photographs

look like paintings, as a result of this I decided that I should never consciously try to reproduce a painting of any kind but that I should just let things develop by themselves.

I have broken this rule once already, this was when I tried to re-create the painting of

'Ophelia',

based on the famous painting by John Everett Millais.

I had loved the painting so much I wished that I had created it, so I did in my own way.

Another favourite has always been

'The Lady of Shalott', by John William Waterhouse.

I find these paintings so very moving and romantic, and so clever in their execution and use of light. They may be old fashioned but I still find them beautiful.

Having been lucky enough to find one model to play "dead" in a winter stream, I was now even more fortunate to be friends with another young woman [Sarah Day] who not only didn't

mind modelling for me but who also owned her own boat and enjoyed making re-creation clothing.

Added to this I had an offer from a lady who visits the gallery

"if you ever want to use my home for your photographs you are welcome".

Her home is an old mill, set beside the river and with its own weir and large pool.

So, one summer day I set out with the intention of trying to once again create my version of an old painting.

Perhaps I should mention here that I don't actually enjoy taking photographs, I find it very hard

technically [especially with limited knowledge] as my own expectations of what I would like to see are hard to produce.

Many times I don't bother to take a picture when the opportunity comes as the thought of having to work out exposures, choosing the right combination of filters, and making sure I have covered every angle tends to take away "the moment".

Any real photographer wouldn't understand this, but they would be more qualified than I for the job in hand.

This time everything was ready.

Sarah had made a dress in the style of the painting, and even taken her boat to the mill pond

the previous day.

The sky was clear and the sun shone, what more could I ask for?

From the outset I had known that I couldn't take the picture with one shot as I wanted to finish

up with a large file [over 200 mg] and this wasn't possible with a camera like mine.

So it meant that the picture would have to be a montage of different shots.

Also I wanted to create the 'spirit' of the painting, my version, or what might have been the painting under different circumstances. So I knew that many pictures would have to be taken

so I had enough to choose from and to "build" with.

For an hour or so Sarah paddled or drifted her boat about the pool.

I knew what I was looking for but creating it or capturing it was a lot harder and I spent my time scrambling about the bank side or wading into the shallows [I had my boots on] trying to get the perfect shots.

Luckily Sarah has been the 'star' of many previous photographs of mine, so she knew what to expect, what to do and how to react to my vague prompts.

Eventually I announced "that's it I must have everything by now".

Understanding what was required Sarah reminded me that I hadn't taken any pictures of reeds.

The main reason for this being that they were in deeper water and too far away.

"Climb in and I will paddle us out there", she told me.

I had wanted to go out on the boat so I jumped at the invitation.

Literally

I jumped into the boat and immediately capsized it, turning it over with us both in it.

My first thoughts were for my camera.

Standing waist deep in the water I realized that it was immersed.

"The camera, I must save the camera".

I waded to the bank side, climbed it and run to the house.

I had to dry the camera, and quickly.

I was fortunate, fifteen minutes later after taking it apart and blasting it with a hair dryer it was working again.

Crisis over.

Oh! I wonder what happened to Sarah.

[You understand that at times I'm not the kind, considerate person I pretend to be, and this was one of them].

But luckily she was aware of this and after dragging the submerged boat to the bank by herself she somehow upturned it and drained the water out before squelching her way back to the house.

" You poor girl, come in quickly and have a hot shower, you must be frozen".

No, that wasn't me that was the lady of the house.

One week later, having chosen what photographs to use I had made a "rough" by putting four of them put together.

This had taken two days.

I understood then that this was going to be a very long process so I put them aside and got on

with life.

Every now and again I would play with the picture a little and move it forward, but not very often.

Eighteen months later it was finished.

But only for a few minutes. It was as if my computer had had enough of it.

The screen went dead never to come back on again, with it went all of the pictures that I had created over the past few years.

Some were of course saved onto Cd's but not all, and certainly not

Lady of Shalott.

Recently I had a lot of the contents of the hard disc recovered, but the finished picture was gone

for all time except in my head.

I managed to get back some of the original photographs, including a picture of a soaked Sarah.

Sitting looking at this I decided that I must finish that picture one day,

just for her sake if no other reason.

We have kept in touch and indeed produced other pictures together, and she has never once

bothered me or complained about that picture.

So that was my resolution, to finish it,

and I decided that I would not write here again until I had.

So it's finished, I am unhappy with it and will one day go back and start again with the pictures I have, but at least for me at least it captures a little of the atmosphere we set out to create.

Thanks Sarah.

Above are the finished [for now at least] picture, the beautiful original painting which inspired it. An early start picture using six images, then another about a week and several changes later,

and of course my star on route to the shower.

I must be one of the only people in the country that hasn't put pictures of snow on there blog,

well that's just about to change.

It did seem little point putting photographs on just to announce "we have snow", as at the moment it would be hard to find somewhere that hasn't any, well in this country at least.

It is strange to have it "white" so early [or late] in the year, but it does start to make sense of all the old fashioned Christmas cards that we are used to seeing.

"A white Christmas"?

Whatever next? "Peace to all mankind", somehow I doubt it.

So much as I was "itching" to take pictures in the snow I hadn't had a chance as I have been in the gallery with the heaters on full power, looking out at the winter landscape not being part of it.

That changed at the weekend.

The snow, while looking pretty is a mixed blessing. Yes, it looks very seasonal but it has put an end to Christmas shopping as so few people have been venturing out.

It has also caused some problems for us with travelling to the galleries, both here and to Irene's in Lavenham.

Neither are far away from home but with the country roads being unusable they might as well have been 50 miles away, as we were unable to leave home in a car.

However, there has been a growing list of frames to be made that has been slowly building up and I had decided that on Sunday I would go to Lavenham and get a few done.

They had to be done as people were expecting [with pictures] them to give as presents, so I decided that I would walk to the Lavenham gallery and get them done just in case conditions got worse.

The village of Lavenham is only three miles from our home and the journey shouldn't have taken too long but I decided to "speed" things up by walking cross country rather than taking the meandering lanes.

I wish that I hadn't, but I'm glad that I did.

The journey took far too long but it was a delight.

I walked out of our gate and proceeded directly into the fields opposite.

Although I have walked the route before this time it was so different.

I walked along the old wooded path that follows the stream that passes by our house, it was lovely to walk in the virgin snow, sheltered by a roof of trees but being able to hear and occasionally see the running water.

I came to an unsheltered part of the track where the stream was in clear view. This is an important location for the family as our old dog loved to sit here and bark while Irene threw

stones into the stream, with each splash he became more excited and would bark louder.

I couldn't help but imagine him sitting there in the snow, I'm sure he would have loved it.

Dogs do like adventures.

I continued on my own, walking through the snow, hearing nothing but my own footsteps,

apart from the occasional gunshot of course.

It seems that whatever the weather there are always pheasants "just asking" to be shot.

Eventually I came to, then waded the small ford.

This was really starting to feel like an adventure, everything seemed so much more romantic and dramatic than it would normally be.

In fact it seemed that I was incapable of walking 50 metres without taking at least 5 photographs, most of which I knew would be rubbish but I couldn't help myself, we don't often have snow.

I arrived at the pine forest, unfortunately my path didn't take me through it and I really didn't have time to spare to detour, so I passed on by and crossed the empty fields, empty except for

Crows and Rooks who so fitted the isolated landscape.

I walked through a small wood which resembled 'Narnia', pausing only to look at a frozen pool,

it was strange to think that only a few months before I had been tempted to strip and bath in it

on a rare hot summer day as I sat watching a Kingfisher dart from perch to perch.

Now it looked black and foreboding against the snow covered banks.

From the wood across a beautiful wild field [beautiful in any season], then into the "tunnel".

It isn't really a tunnel, but it is a tunnel of trees that runs for about a mile.

It was once the route of the old steam railway, before the "cut backs" of a previous era.

It was strange to walk this route thinking that once in a time before modernisation and good communications all of the small villages were connected by the rail.

Now they are all isolated and older people can only travel by the "once a day bus".

That's progress.

Walking along the disused track it was easy to imagine people looking from windows of the train carriages, watching the countryside pass by, and if they were young putting heads outside to watch and smell the clouds of steam from the engines.

As a child I used to be so very frightened of the big steaming monsters as they pulled slowly into the station.

So loud dark and menacing.

I used to put my head under my mothers coat until they stopped and the "hissing"had subsided.

Now, I miss them so, but walking the track I was once again that young boy, head out of the window, sniffing the strange smell of the steam.

Now the rail track was silent, silent, sad and very beautiful.

The tunnel before me illuminated by snow, and there in the far distance the circle of light

where the woods stopped.

The wood stopped but a steep hill beckoned. In fact it didn't really beckon it's just that I had no other choice, so puffing like a train off I set.

So it was much, and many pictures later that I eventually saw the distant church tower of Lavenham in the distance.

Oh dear!

I knew things were going to get worse, after all who can resist taking pictures of Lavenham in the snow?

No one. Including a local like me. It is so very pretty and at Christmas everyone seems to make a great effort with their decorations, it really seems like a place where Christmas does really exist.

I took pictures [too many to show], and yes I even completed my picture frames and then I had the excitement of returning home in the dark.

It's strange how nothing is a pretty, or as friendly in the dark and I'm sure the woods were longer, deeper and darker than those I had walked through earlier.

At one point I knew that I had heard hoofs on the track.

Images of Dracula's stagecoach came to mind, only to be swiftly replaced with images of

'Black Riders'.

Then they appeared.

Three deer ran across the track, then another four, then another two, then more.

Fourteen in total, silhouetted against the snow, any other night I wouldn't have seen them and in my imagination they would have remained as Black Riders.

The sounds of the deer, owls, startled pheasants and the "cawing" and flapping wings of the rooks I disturbed as I walked the wooded path made it all a memorable day.

I survived my "big adventure" and here are a few pictures to prove it, none of them convey what I experienced but maybe a lot of that was in my mind.

I don't want to do it too often, but for one day in my life it was good to be young again.

As I have mentioned before artists, like all of us come in many different shapes, forms and guises, and of course with the odd sprinkle of ego now and then.

This is normal of course but as you may have realised by now there is only "one" ego that is allowed free rein in this gallery.

Yep! That's mine. [It's too large to fit this page].

So, whats this all about?

The whole pleasure of having the gallery is to show beautiful things, objects of all forms that fill that" little hole" of need that exists inside all of us.

As I have been told in the past "people don't need what you are selling".

Very true, you certainly can't eat it, or fill your car with it, but, part of you certainly needs it, and like everyone else I certainly need "a fix" of living with beautiful things.

They touch your heart.

No, they lift your heart and spirit and in these troubled times we all need something that does that from time to time.

So. back to artists.

I have always maintained and experienced that the bigger the artist, the more humble and generous the person is.

I have frequently been astonished by the generosity of "big name artists" who reply to my requests to show their work.

Many times I have had replies such as "of course you can" or "thank you for your kind words, how soon do you need it", or "when would you like it sent" "what a lovely gallery you have".

This sometimes from artists that make me feel "we are not worthy".

But instead, they have the ability make us feel special.

Then, every now and again you have an artist of some description that we have "championed"

who has gone on to have a sniff of fame. "A legend in their own mind".

Wow! They are gone.

"Can't do that now I'm very heavily committed", or "I regret that I have no new work as I sent it to the Broom Cupboard gallery in New York".

America, New York?

I suppose a village like Long Melford can't compete with that.

Well it can, but not with the inflated ego's, after all the locals are still trying to come to terms with mine.

This is starting to sound a little bitter so perhaps I had better explain.

No, named artist commits to an exhibition that they can't fulfill, or at the very least they ask for a long "lead up" time so that they have the time to put special pieces aside during the course of their normal year.

Yes, you do have a long wait but you are assured that the end result will be worth while, and that your time and money spent in promotion is not wasted.

"At the end of the day", the public decides, and as a gallery owner you can only hope that what you promise is delivered.

As they say the rest is in the "lap of the Gods".

So when I try to prepare a year in advance it is reassuring to know that artists offer to do the same and make the same commitment.

But, that is not always the case as sometimes artists who don't have a reputation to lose

don't prepare until the last few weeks and as a result submit "OK" art for their exhibition,

then wonder or blame the gallery their art doesn't sell.

So it is with these thoughts at the back of my mind that this morning I decided that I would concentrate on trying to get a few outstanding artists that I really admire to commit for future exhibitions.

By this I mean artists that I have had dialogue with but who won't commit to a date until they know that their calender is free enough to let them give proper justice and representation to their own art.

At times they are allusive, but they never let you down once they have said "yes".

As I sat at the computer preparing to write long letters detailing the advantages of showing with us I was surprised by the arrival of a mail from a sculptor that I have been pursuing for a long time.

Jan Morgan.

Result! We will be getting his work, but only when he has fulfilled current commitments.

"This is more like it, I can live with those sort of things", someone is being honest.

I don't care how long I have to wait for Jan's work, in a way the anticipation is half the pleasure.

"No", I'm lying there, having them here and seeing and touching them will be the pleasure.

The sculptures are so exciting, not only are they so well made but the also tell a story.

The display of them is everything, it is so much more than just the sculpting, there is such a clever mind behind them.

So, having been fulfilled in only a few short minutes of the day I decided to "go for broke", and approach yet again one of my favourite sculptors.

Tricia Cline.

Tricia has told me in the past that she will let 'Imagine' have some of her art, but only when she could fit it in.

I can live with that as I know we will get the work sometime and I won't be messed around with

false promises.

As I now know professional artists never promise then not deliver, and I have the work of many of them here to prove it.

They have made my job a pleasure, it's the others that are causing the ulcers.

Above are two of the sculptures by Jan Morgan followed by a couple of haunting pieces by Tricia Cline.

Hey! Did anyone suspect anywhere back there that I was annoyed, I hope not.

After all I'm professional.

Each year we hold about six different exhibitions at the gallery, some solo exhibitions and the others usually group shows set around a theme.

These I really enjoy as it gives me the opportunity to have a little "artistic" input of my own,

firstly in deciding upon a theme then secondly in choosing the various artists that I think will best bring the idea to life, it is always very satisfying [once the opening is over] to stand back and marvel at the interpretations from the various different minds.

The first planned for next year is on the theme of the 'Rime of The Ancient Mariner', this was originally planned as a solo exhibition by the sculptor John Maltby but he has since urged me to "go ahead with the idea" as a group show.

This will of course make for a more varied show, it is something I am looking forward to planning.

I will have to give much thought in a short space of time as I am thinking of sometime in May which doesn't give a lot of time for artists to think and prepare, even if it is just for the inclusion of one piece. I think that I will make this my Christmas "break" project, so when I arrive back here on 'Boxing Day' after my 24 hour holiday I will have a much clearer idea of who I would really like to be involved.

So although we are very much involved with the whole Christmas experience at the moment

[it is a little festive here just now] my thoughts are very much on the future, even to the extent that I have asked one artist to show in 2012.

Perhaps I am getting too ambitious.

So, for next year our first planned exhibition is not until the end of February which at the moment seems a long way off, although having a little break from the planning and promotion side of things will be welcome [although I do have to start designing advertisements soon].

Lindsey Carr, is the artist for our next show.

I am so pleased that I had asked her earlier this year when she first exhibited with in a joint exhibition with fellow artist Mark Rowney.

Then the connection between them was that they both painted onto wood.

I loved both there works, although then Mark was perhaps the more established of the pair I had a "gut feeling" that Lindsey was really going to "take off", so on impulse I asked if she would come back in a year and have her first solo exhibition.

She agreed, thank goodness as now one year on her work is sought after worldwide and in just a few months from saying "yes" her art was being shown in numerous exhibitions in America and Europe.

But, next February she is all mine.

I am really excited and honestly can't wait to see her new work, although I know it will only frustrate me as I will want to own so many pieces but won't be able to afford one.

Still for a short while it will all be mine.

A few days ago she sent me an image of a painting that was about 90% finished, this was so that I could use portions of it for advertisements and editorials etc.

I loved it, if having a small print of this unfinished picture was all that I would personally own, then that would be enough to keep me happy, it is beautiful.

I will say and urge that if anyone out there can afford it, then snap up one of her paintings while they are still affordable as I am certain that this girl is going to be an artist that I will one day be able to boast about [I like to boast] to people. I'm sure only to have them exclaim.

" You, had HER work "?

Another exciting event that I will look forward to is the launch of the latest Jackie Morris book,

something that is still very much ongoing at the moment. I know that Jac is working to a publishers deadline as usual which can't be the best experience in the World, but although she never seems to realise it at the time some of her best work is produced under these circumstances.

It is a book of Nursery Rhymes titled 'A Rhyme in Time' .

I know that is the title because the cover has been printed and I have a copy of it.

Jackie is obsessed by time [along with a thousand other interesting things], or more to the point the waste of time, I think she really is a person for who the days just aren't long enough,

I think to do, and create all of the things she talks of and plans would take at least one and a half life times, but I somehow have a feeling that she will do most of them.

I am aware that I do mention her fairly frequently on the blog, this is perhaps because she is so very inventive and her idea's so exciting, plus she is one of the most generous people we know.

With her obsession with time it was no great surprise to find that her new book cover was designed around a clock.

From the first time I looked at the illustrations I could only think of just how good this could be if it was turned into a real creation.

I often tell myself "You must not dabble with artists creations".

But what the hell, I know best, don't I?

For a week or so my mind was occupied with trying to image how this clock could be brought

to 'real life'. Was it possible? Who had the ability to do it?

In my mind there was only one person, Jon Mayle.

Jon, a jeweller/designer /artist, I have known since we were both very much younger.

Thinking about it, maybe 40 years, which is incredible as I don't look a day older [well let's face it, does Father Christmas age]?

Unfortunately for me Jon is one of the people who at times can be immune to my powers of persuasion [luckily his wife and sculptor Jan isn't], so I wasn't sure how he would take my request to make a "real clock".

But, I asked.

After a couple of days he came back to me, "I can do it, no problem, exactly as the pictures, but

before I start ask Jackie if she minds".

Well you know how "up themselves" and precious some artists can be?

Well, Jackie isn't one of them.

"Fantastic, when, how much will it cost, I can't wait to see it, brilliant".

Were among Jackie's many comments.

So some time in the near future I will be showing pictures of the most amazing clock.

A collaboration by two talented artists [plus me of course].

Now then, that has made something come to mind.

A while back I had thought of an exhibition titled "Collaborations", I had forgotten all about the idea until I wrote those words.

Heck! How many months are there next year?

Above are unfinished painting by Lindsey and Jackie's front and back cover paintings.

I justify not writing each day by telling myself that "nothing has happened".

Which in the grand scheme of things it hasn't , but I suppose that in my small world a lot has, or more to the point lots of small things have happened, which I suppose is what it is all about.

We have had "new" art by artists old and new arrive here, I have visited different fairs, the new gallery is up and running now and my framing needs are now taken care of, and most importantly we have had a Christmas opening.

So I suppose that a few things have happened, it just all creeps up on me, and without my realisation a lot has happened.

Christmas is "just around the corner" and this has dictated a lot of what has happened here.

I have tried to make the gallery as interesting as possible showing a selection of work by all of our artists, plus fitting in a few new ones. It is only when trying to do this and with trying to be fare to everyone [in terms of display] that I realise how many and how varied our artists are.

In a way the Christmas show is a bit of a treat as it is a case of "anything goes" and there are no problems of seeming to favour any one artist, as a result the gallery looks really different

and to the majority of visitors really fresh, as most of them only visit for a specific exhibition and as a result never see us as we really are or have an understanding of what we are trying to achieve.

As one man told "you have some really good things this time".

Not especially, this is normal.

Wow, that sounds big headed, but I don't mean it to be, I am not one of the artists but I admit I do feel proud of their ability.

The Christmas opening couldn't have been at a worse time, most of the country was covered with snow, here in fact we had very little, actually it was only a heavy frost but I understood early in the day [especially on my way here when I passed several cars on the road that had inches of snow on them ] that it might be hard for some people to travel here.

However, the day was a great success with many old friends making the long cold journey [most of our trade is from people living 30 miles plus away] for this special day.

"Glad we came it seems like Christmas", we were told many times.

This maybe because of the scented candles but mainly because of the 'mulled wine', which was constantly brewing and even more frequently being re-filled in the large cauldron.

Most people were amazed at the variety of the different work on show, which was a bit of a surprise as the majority was from our regular artists, but as I explained most people never see us as we "really are" and they only pick up on a hint of what might be on show on a daily basis.

We did have some new artists at the opening, in fact more than a few, plus lots of new exciting pieces but as usual I have been too lazy [or unhappy with results] to get decent pictures to show, but I have taken a few and as the week progresses I will take more.

The week before the opening I visited a large ceramic fair.

It wasn't something that I had intended or wanted to do as it required six hours driving but it was a necessity as a lovely young Welsh potter [Sean Gordan] was keen for me to have his ceramics and he had promised me

"that if you come to the fair I will have a nice package for you".

Imagine that being spoken in a lovely soft welsh accent [think Richard Burton], how could I resist?

I was glad that I did visit as not only did I leave there with Sean's work but also lots of other ceramics that I wished were in my own stocking come Christmas morning.

Lots of lovely things by people like, Margaret Brampton, Gerald Davis, Nichola and Tony Theakston.

All of which I promise to show, in fact the ceramics that I left with would have made an exhibition by themselves.

But there was to be even more.

Day's before the opening I received new work from several different artist/sculptors/potters/

jewellers, plus a call from the famous sculptor Emma Rodgers asking "do you need anything from me for Christmas"?

As I sit putting this into words I do ask myself "why do I ever feel down"?

I don't know but I do at times and I think it is because I am always chasing after the impossible dream, or in reality the next artist.

My Christmas wish would be to be surrounded by all the different work that I love. This may seem like an impossible dream but I have got so close, and I do relish everything that we show.

But unfortunately I have to sell it.

Not a day passes that something that I love disappears, but I suppose that is the nature of what we do, and I suppose this it what drives me, always thinking about what might replace what has just been sold.

It's a little like living in toy land. I want everything.

For this Christmas show work has been arriving up until the last minute [or 30 minutes] before opening and I must admit I was very far behind with the preparations.

My excuse is that I knew that some work was on its way and as a result I couldn't set everything out.

The last pieces to arrive were by the sculptor/potter Jan Burridge.

She had tried to get here the day before but had to give up because of heavy snow.

Because of this I really didn't expect anything from her, but 30 minutes before the door opened she arrived with her sculptures. She stayed for only a few minutes before leaving again [in case of snow].

It was so kind and generous of her plus I was so thrilled with her work, she really is so very talented with her ability to move from pots to sculpture, I know we are going to hear a lot more about her in the future and I am so pleased to be showing her now before she becomes 'too' big.

There are other people that I want to talk about but sitting here feeling cold and then looking outside to see the snow falling I think that perhaps I had better set off home.

So above is the cover for our 'Christmas' invitation, then two sculptures by Jan Burridge

[I love her Tudor figures], a tea pot by Sean Gordan [too beautiful to use] and a local scene with the frost, which I hope will look the same come the morning but checking on the snow falling outside I think that the weather that the rest of the country is experiencing has finally arrived here in Long Melford.

So I must dash now as I have to tether those dogs to my sledge.