After an exhausting few days we are all now recovering from the

'Maureen Minchin' exhibition.

In every respect it was unlike any other that we have held.

The quality and quantity of ceramics which arrived just a couple of days before the were a little overwhelming, not just the thought of having to price and catalogue the work but how to go about displaying such a varied and beautiful mixture.

There was literally "something for everyone", from beautiful egg cups to gigantic plates and dishes. It is almost impossible to understand how one person can produce such intricate work.

I know that she has a team of friends and helpers who work with her, but the decoration is all Maureen's.

Drawn with a needle.

Even a humble mug must have hours of work involved in its creation.

One person commented to me about one of her framed tiles

" that's almost like a miniature work of art".

I corrected him.

"No that is a work of art. If it was on paper many artists would be demanding very high sums for such a piece".

But it seems that all of the work and many, many extra hours demanded to create this picture on a piece of ceramic mean nothing when compared to "oil on canvas".

Funny old thing the art world isn't it.

The opening of this exhibition was a rare experience.

People were waiting outside for hours before the door was opened

There was something of a carnival atmosphere about it all, much of this was helped by Paul,

a neighbour, friend and owner of the nearby Hairdressing Salon.

He, like many is a great fan of Maureens work and was determined to purchase a number of pieces and he appreciated that friendship aside this would involve a long wait, so not only did he turn up with a garden chair to sit on , but he also brought several others for the people who waited with him until the opening.

Inside the gallery I was still panicking and rushing about trying to put the final touches to the show and I envied the strangers sitting outside in the sun laughing, drinking and becoming friends.

It was a very unusual day.

Once the door was opened at 12.00 Noon [on the stroke] bedlam was unleashed.

It was terrible, for once I had to work hard instead of socialising.

For the first time I understood how much Rebecca and Irene have to do while I talk and drink,

and talk.

This was hard work.

People were snatching up pots and holding onto them so that others couldn't buy them, some were demanding "Red Spots" so that they could reserve a piece before someone else spotted it.

It was madness , then suddenly,

it calmed,

people started to behave in a more normal manner.

The reason?

Because almost everything had sold.

"What a day", I thought as I poured myself a long overdue glass of wine.

I was wrong, it wasn't a day it was only 1.20 pm.

I couldn't believe it, so much had happened and so much had sold in such a short time.

At any exhibition that we hold it is impossible to predict the outcome or how many people will attend, all I can do is put every effort into each show and then wait.

So what makes Maureen so special and so sought after.

I think that it is to do with her integrity and the amount of work she puts into each piece she creates, but not just that. I think that in her work she shows a side of life and the countryside that we all long to see and experience.

For instance I had asked her "do you ever see any basking sharks"?

"Oh yes lots, and Minke whale, killer whale, lots of Dolphin and of course the Otters and Puffins all the time".

Her pots reflect her life and everything in it that is of importance to her.

They are a 3D representation of where she chooses to live.

I have tried in a simple way to illustrate with my pictures above where her inspirations come from and what makes her create what she does. I hope that they help give an insight into her beautiful world.

I think what sums her work up comes from her own words.

"To step outside my door and be able to walk in any direction is very important to me".

Maureen will show with us again one day but not until 2015.

" What, I will be dead by then", I told her.

"Don't be silly that's what you told me five years ago".

It seems like yesterday.

A long time has past and a lot has happened since I last wrote, many things I have been tempted to write about but I have resisted that temptation because each time I was drawn back to one event, and that I decided it was best not to talk about.

As a good friend told me many years ago,

"if you can't say something nice about someone, then say nothing at all".

So I have chosen to say nothing at all, for a long time.

But for better or worse I am back, with more ramblings about my gallery life and the things and people connected with it.

Much has happened in what has not really been too long a time so I'm not sure where to start, so I will just stick with the most memorable events.

I think when I last wrote we were just about to open an exhibition featuring the paintings by

Lindsey Carr, well that has been and gone and is almost history apart from the fact that the last paintings that had sold have only just been sent off to California.

It was a strange event with almost all of the sales going to America, something that has never happened on this scale before.

So clearly she is someone to keep an eye on for the future, which I will, and it is with a feeling

of pride I think that we held her first "solo" exhibition, the next will be in California.

Maybe one day she will let us show her work again.

No sooner had that exhibition opened and my thoughts and worries were elsewhere.

Our next and greatly anticipated exhibition was just on the horizon.

Maureen Minchin, the potter has been booked with us for nearly 5 years.

It was an event that I thought would never come and I have been like a child waiting for Christmas with the anticipation of it all.

Well, it nearly upon us now with just over a week to go before the opening.

Because of different things that we have planned for the event it was decided that I would journey to Scotland to collect some of the finished work from her, the rest will follow.

Scotland.

I haven't been there since I was a young man. It is strange to think that as young people Irene and I visited every year and had planned to do so "for ever".

But somehow life has different plans and despite our very fond memories and many plans we have never managed to return, so for me this "enforced " visit was a little bit of a pilgrimage

back to our youth.

On this visit I had the company of Sam, our son who on my last visit was just a hoped for dream in our far distant future.

Isn't life strange?

Strange, but such a great pleasure to take him to the places that had held such meaning to us

when we were his age.

Bloody hell! Am I that old?

I am, and was reminded of it in the most lovely of ways when after many miles of travelling

we arrived at the home of Maureen Minchin.

A home and workshop hidden away in the remotest corner of West Scotland

[but I will tell much more of that later].

Standing in her living room I looked out of the window which gave a view over the sea to far distant islands with snow covered mountains. I stood mesmerised until suddenly

I saw lights flickering over the sea.

What!

No it was a reflection in the window, I turned around and there was Maureen holding a birthday cake covered in lighted candles.

" Happy Birthday John".

Yes, it was my 60th birthday.

I should have felt ancient [indeed I am], but I felt young, alive and very happy.

How many people could be as lucky as I was to experience such a day in such a place with such

lovely people.

It seemed that everyone, Maureen, her friends and Sam tried to make this such a memorable day for me, and so it was.

I enjoyed and experienced so many good things I know I will never have time to recall them all.

It was a good day, indeed it was a good trip and I had lots of fun.

I was on a journey with my best mate, who just happens to be my son.

So without going into our many adventures, and there were many, I will just recall a few special moments.

Of course we visited Loch Ness [many times] and on our last evening stood drinking a pint of cider by the loch side as the light faded to blackness, but it never became totally dark as the surrounding mountains were covered in snow and they reflected on the water even when it became too late to see where we had left the car.

On one day we had the most amazing drive through the mountains of Glen Shiel, the snow was falling heavily but the road was still clear, it was like driving through a giant film set of 'Lord of the Rings'. Past Lochs, mountains and rivers in what felt such an isolated environment, it was beautiful but believe it or not there were almost no places to stop and take photographs.

The memories will have to stay as photographs of the camera in my mind [have you got one of those, they are brilliant but you can't share the images].

Emerging from the massive Glen we arrived at our destination, the home of "Connor MacCleod" [The Highlander],

Eilean Donan Castle, perhaps the most photographed castle in the world.

But for all the countless times pictures of it are shown on television, films and in magazines it is still a magnificent spectacle and one that everyone should try to see at least once.

From there we made a special pilgrimage to the last home of the famous author Gavin Maxwell, the man who wrote 'Ring of Bright Water' [one of my favourite books].

It wasn't really his home, not the one made famous in the novels, but it was his last home and

the one he wished to die in.

But life had other cruel plans and he died in hospital, but I feel that part of him is still there on this little island that was his home and it was a pleasure to witness what his eyes had looked out upon and it was easy to see why he had chosen to live, and wanted to die there.

From there onto the Isle of Skye and....................................too many different things.

So after some exciting days, we unfortunately had to make the long drive home

[with a car full of ceramics, yes I remembered to collect them]

past the beautiful highlands down to the equally beautiful but very different Lake District,

[now that's a story by itself, but perhaps for another day]

through heavy mist across the northern dales of Yorkshire then slowly back home in the late night to the gentle countryside of Suffolk.

It was good to be home but it had been such fun on our little winter adventure.

Having got that out of the way I will come back to show you the fruits of, and the reason for the journey. The pottery of Maureen Minchin.

The pictures are of the beach which is a 100 yards from Maureens home and which looks out to many islands. Sam, getting fed up with me asking for another moody picture.

The beautiful Glen Shiel taken from the car window.

The "Highlanders" home, Eilean Donan Castle, and lastly the beautiful home of Gavin Maxwell.

The day started off in a strange way.

Strange, but good, maybe bad. Only time will tell

I mentioned some time ago about a gypsy woman who came in and told me things about

myself and the life and future of the gallery.

Nonsense that I knew it was I handed her some money.

Her words and what she told me were not only true but gave me belief and determination.

She came in again today.

The cynic in me [and there's a lot of that] thought " she has found a soft touch".

But without a pause [or only a small one] I opened the till and handed her some money.

"Do you want to buy from me today", She asked?

As before she had nothing, so what was there to purchase?

I told her no, but thanked her for her words that she had spoken on the last visit.

She then started to tell me about myself and the gallery again.

Part of me wanted her to go away and the other part wanted to hear everything that she uttered. I felt frightened but awed.

Many people would just call me gullable.

Most of what she had to say about the gallery helped my thoughts, and I believed her.

A little of what she said about myself worried me, but I believed that also.

After all when someone tells you that you are tired, what's not to believe?

Before she left she stopped to admire and caress a 'Celtic Hare' sculpture that we have.

"I love this", she said then left.

This time I was determined to see if she walked past the smaller windows as she walked away,

but the telephone rang and I looked away, so I don't know.

As I mentioned before I felt that if I had gone to the door and looked out on the street there would be no one there.

But then again if I didn't have an active imagination I wouldn't be doing this for a living.

So, the real reason for writing this is because I know that in just a few days things are going to start getting very busy for me.

Another exhibition, not until mid April, but between now and then there is so much to do.

Apart from lots of travelling, designing invitations and a catalogue there is a lot of photography to do. Most of it for the exhibition but also some pictures for myself.

Really they are for an image library but they will be my sort of photographs.

They are sending me six Elizabethan costumes which I have to use for period photographs.

So if there is anyone out there size 10, please get in touch.

This all means that my chances of showing other works here is going to be very limited,

so here are a few things that have been on my mind and in my heart.

As you must know by now, I am passionate about the 'Stone Lithographs' by Michael Parkes.

These he no longer produces as the press on which they were printed no longer exists, as a

result the work that was available has been disappearing very rapidly, so much so that he has

even offered up for sale his own personal collection just to appease the worldwide demand.

Amongst these are a few that had long ago become unavailable, so when I was offered a chance to reserve a few of "his" pictures what could I do.

So now to my delight and great pleasure I will have a few [very few] very rare pieces by him

hanging on the gallery walls.

What a delight, and privilege.

I know that I can't afford one but just for a while they will belong to me.

Some other pictures that I have been aching to have here on show for a long while

are the works of Kate Leiper.

At last after a two year wait I placed the first piece in the window today.

"Mine at last"? Six hours later it was gone.

Still for a short while it was mine to look at, touch and savour and not many people have had that pleasure.

I do have a few others by her and if there is time tomorrow I will frame and hang those.

A lot of her art is centred around "Cats & Dogs" and those are the one's that I love.

Today the picture that sold was called

'Crossing Black Shucks Path", which is based on a local legend.

What makes this unusual is that it was painted by someone at the other end of the country.

Here in Suffolk we all know of the "Black Shuck".

There are many tales, myths and stories about him, but this is my own favourite.

Many, many years ago [before we were even young]

there was a great storm at sea near a place called Walberswick on the Suffolk coast.

A ship braving the storms and unable to reach harbour was overturned and sank,

with all the crew drowned.

Everyone dead, except the ships dog.

The sailors bodies were cast up on the long stretch of beach.

Some at one end and the rest far away at the other end of that long beach.

The poor dog was lost in grief, his friends were gone.

He wanted to lay with their drowned bodies, but how could he with that

distance between them?

So he ran, and ran, and ran.

From one end of the beach to the other so that he could be with his different comrades,

laying a while with some then running back to lay beside the others.

Stricken with grief, and running forever.

Today, many years later it is said that in the evening you can still see the poor dog

running along the beach, searching for his lost friends,

but if you see him whatever you do

"don't cross his path".

Of course this and all the other legends surrounding him are total nonsense.

If you believe that sort of thing you will end up listening to a gipsy's fortune telling.

Above, two of my beautiful Michael Parkes lithographs.

Some of Kate's dogs, of course the last one being that evil creature of legend.

Black Shuck.

Whenever we have an exhibition "on the horizon" it seems to become all encompassing.

and as a result many of the new exciting pieces of work that we have

seem to get overlooked for a short while.

This isn't by choice it is just caused by the worry of the forthcoming event.

But, what is happening outside the exhibition and future events always seem to occupy my mind, no matter what is going on and however busy I am.

I suppose at all times I am excited about the future and what we will be doing next.

It is the anticipation of the unknown, or at least the unknown response to what we will display.

Sometimes, not often, but sometimes, I can get excited about things that will be happening in the future with the knowledge that others will be equally excited.

For instance, the forthcoming exhibition of Maureen Minchin's ceramics.

I know that there will be a huge response.

Also other occasions, when different artworks arrive with no great "fanfare" but which are perhaps more important in the scheme of things than the exhibitions that we hold and which I know the public will love and respond to.

Two instances instantly come to mind,

but one will have to wait until tomorrow before I talk of that.

I know that many, many people out there know of the work by Rima Staines.

She is almost famous without being known.

No, that's wrong. She is famous, but in a strange way, and she is certainly very well known,

but not perhaps in the "all" important art world.

She is a gypsy, a 'will o' the wisp'', a "free spirit", a very unusual woman and an incredible artist.

She has legions of fans and followers worldwide and has perhaps "the" most followed blog, but what is amazing is that we were the first gallery to exhibit her exciting and very varied work.

To describe what she does would take hours, everything from watercolour to wood.

Paintings, drawings,games, sculptures and even films.

Initially it took an age to "track her down" as she was living in a "house on wheels" travelling the country.

It wasn't a camper or a caravan it literally was a wooden cottage on wheels, something I had heard of but didn't appreciate until I visited for "tea" one summer evening in a Suffolk field.

It was hard to appreciate that in a few days time this cottage in its idyllic location would be gone. No longer would you sip tea and eat strawberry's looking out of the 'stable doors' at a lake but would perhaps instead be viewing a Welsh mountain.

It had such a feeling of permanence it was hard to believe that it could travel.

But travel it did, until one day it stopped.

She stopped, and stayed in Devon.

I feel very privileged to be allowed to show her work from time to time, as she doesn't need any gallery to sell her art as most is pre-sold, but she always participates in any themed exhibition that we hold.

So it will be this May, when we open

'The Rime of the Ancient Mariner'.

I have no idea of what we will receive, but I do know that it will be very unusual, and beautiful.

But exhibition pieces aside, I have been lucky enough to persuade her to work with us on a longer term basis, producing a small series of 'hand embellished' prints unique for us [and her].

The pictures have been chosen from a few of my own favourites of her paintings,

each is printed on textured watercolour paper, is hand finished, signed and totally unique.

Edition size 0f only 33 worldwide.

Of course the odd number of thirty three could only come from Rima's imagination.

I do have other things that I want to talk of but they can wait,

so just for now here are few of her prints.

I'm in "post exhibition" recovery mode at the moment.

Last weekend was the opening of our latest exhibition, 'Wings of Hope' when we showed the paintings of Lindsey Carr and the sculptural ceramics by Anne Morrison.

Both artists from Glasgow, both artists so very different.

In some ways it may have seemed a strange partnership but their work was so different that

there was no overlap or competition between them or their work.

Lindsey's paintings very complex, detailed and very different from any other.

Anne's very gentle, but so robust ceramic forms, strong and very understated.

The common ground between them is that they both tell stories through their art.

The paintings seem as if they are fragments of a story, almost like pages torn from a book,

leaving questions in the mind of "what happens next".

The ceramics, some with lettering and even pictures on the surface, spoke for themselves.

Although I am sure that some of what they speak of will be interpreted differently by us all.

Luckily for me I had Lindsey here so I was able to ask, and didn't need to put my own interpretations on her work, and I must admit that the temptation is here to start telling about individual pictures but for that I don't have enough time.

In fact this short post is part of my "catching up" process, because as usual many important

and pressing things have been put aside while I concentrated upon the opening.

In fact the gallery was closed several times the week before as I had to take time out to frame

a few of the paintings, something that takes me far too long as I don't do it very often.

Irene was away and Sam [our son] had other things to get on with, so it was left for me to do it myself, something that I both enjoyed and hated.

I just didn't have enough time to enjoy myself doing something different because while I was

occupied the gallery stood empty, that I hated

The strange thing is, it seemed to generate more sales as a result of it.

I was besieged with mail [and still am] about the exhibition, the interest has been incredible

and as a result when it came to the opening a lot of pieces of the work had reserves on them.

So maybe this should tell me something.

Because I have shown paintings by Lindsey to you before I decided that I must take a few minutes to give you a peek at a few of the ceramic pieces by Anne, otherwise this week will disappear under a pile of paperwork and mails and when I find time again to do another post

most likely I will be concerned or excited about something else.

In fact I am, in fact a lot of things.

"But first things first".

It was one piece by Anne that gave birth to the title of the exhibition, it seemed to be a common

area shared by both artists

'Wings'.

Both ceramics and paintings showed them. On one of Anne's forms were the words:

"When evil arrows fly around

Hold fast to Wings of Hope"

To me this became symbolic, and so the exhibition title was formed.

Another of her beautiful winged form had the words:

"Bind up your broken wings and let your dreams fly free".

This is both beautiful yet sad, as it was made in memory of a potter who died not too long ago.

I know many people used to follow and enjoy his own blog.

It is strange, I have just checked, and there his blog is, still for us all to read.

But it is now stuck forever at one date.

His last entry showing pictures taken on one of his walks, together with his dog.

Then the blog, like life, just ends.

So it was lovely that Anne had been moved enough by this man to make this beautiful piece of sculpture and that we have it here to show.

Above is 'The Wings of Hope' sculpture, followed by a picture showing how Lindsey frames a lot of her paintings, the other pieces are of course by Anne.

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.