Monday, April 14, 2014


There is something special about wool.

The soft wispiness and the way the colours merge and blend.

The way the fibres tell you their story; the story of the meadow and the hillside, the sweet fleece of the hedgerows and fenceposts. Way markers for wayfarers and fae.

The way you have to let it move and form it's own shapes and patterns. A rose here, a leaf there...

Leading you down a merry path to a new little being, that lives at the end of a lane in the middle of a woodland never seen or known before.

A work that is full and warm and breathing a little magic from the otherside of imagination.

Where fairy folk whisper you their dreams...

And giggle behind trees as you walk past unoticed.

Yet altogether



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