shelter.

Two weeks ago, when I landed back here on the island, the first place I visited was Craftworks Studio. I worked there from 14 - 18 years old, spending countless happy weekends and school holidays working as a studio assistant, cleaning up, writing bills, working the till, showing our customers how to paint ceramics and helping the children to finish their pieces.

The family that own the studio welcomed me as an extra daughter, teaching, supporting and inspiring me. I can certainly attribute my creative path to them.
The owners (and 'parents') Martin and June, knew I would visit that Thursday morning. I didn't tell them so, I didn't plan it, but they knew I would come. They welcomed me and have encouraged me to use the studio as my creative outlet until I re-establish a workspace on the island.
In these 2 weeks of re-adjustment, grief and disorientation, Craftworks has been my lighthouse. Many aspects of life here have changed in my absence, but this studio has not. I have gravitated down to Silverdale so often over the last fortnight, chatting with Martin, June and the current assistants, Emma and Henny; they are my creative family, we have been reunited.
It occurred to me last week that it is a place of comfort for me, and in that same thought, working with ceramics is a comforting practice to me. I feel calm and happy when I make. I become anxious when I'm unable to throw or paint. Somehow in those years of teenage angst, working with clay and glaze and kilns became my emotional comforter and without realising, it has spilled over into my life as a young adult. It abates my sadness.

[photos from the Craftworks Facebook Page]

Thursday :: Mud Colony.