SHERINGHAM DIARY 25 ~ A Vicious Bush & Appliqued Busts

The Wounds

With late February turning out so mild, I exhumed the tools for the Post- Winter garden clear up. After a successful start last year, I wanted to complete the taming of the cotoneaster hedge. It is truly impossible to kill it, so I severely slashed at it with a hedge trimmer I'd borrowed. Cutting swathes away, using both saw and trimmer, to produce as neat a hedge as its possible to sculpt in what is the organic equivalent of barbed wire. However, anyone whose tried this will know, a cotoneaster hedge is a vicious vengeful bitch, with thorns for fists. Despite protective gloves, my arms were lacerated as though an angry cat had mauled them. If ever we do have cat, we're now going to call it Cat-oneaster.

Well, I never knew that

Jnanasalin and I took off in Nigella, our black Corsa, heading for the delights of a Coventry Travelodge. Like many midland towns, Coventry no longer knows why it exists. Probably it can be found somewhere in the middle of the insane tangle of its inner city ringroads. Its iconic Cathedral, is a remnant of a once courageous post war optimism that has now completely vanished. The cities current state is encapsulated by the Herbert Museum, an art gallery that has lost its way. It seems overly focused on encouraging access to its collection of largely old white male artists. But it doesn't even present these well, in the rush to dumb it all down for the children. Whilst Coventry, a town known for its racial and cultural diversity, with a rich seam of black and white working class popular culture to be mined, particularly musically, is totally and unforgivably absent. Whose culture is being celebrated here?

Why go to Coventry? Because, boys and girls, it's on the way to the Giftware Spring Fair at the NEC. Its a long time since I was there as a punter. All I remember is the exhaustion of plodding up and down the halls, and how hard it is to miss the dominant female presence in the giftware industry. Mature, proffesional, confident women, often spectacularly draped in soft scarves and power statement jewellery, or with resplendently bedecked bosom cliffs in knitted tops with added applique. The artless splash of shimmer fabric, sequins or, at the tatty end, glitter, is everywhere. Somehow effortlessly bypassing both the chic and the classy whilst on their way to striking.

We went to take the temperature on trends, pick up ideas or future UK based makers. As pretty much everyone there imports, the latter didn't happen. However, we attended two talks on colour trends for 2019/20, which we found extremely useful. Reassuring us we know what we're doing with our colour ranges, and helping in defining them better. But mostly we just picked up ideas for finishes, textures and materials. We started in the high end halls, gradually losing all will to live as we grew nearer to the lower end ones. What is apparent is that high end is where the newer, innovative stuff is found. Some of this filters down to the middle range suppliers, and only what proves to be popular and can be cheaply knocked off, reaches the lower priced 'shonky' end of giftware. Its like watching the last ten years of retail trends cascade before your eyes.

We are on our way out of Morrison's, loaded up with our own shopping when a woman calls out  to us, she has her trolley in one of those lockable cupboards they provide ~ 'can you help me please, my key doesn't work'  Thinking I'd instantly understood what was required I stepped forward, fiddled with it a bit, till the door miraculously fell easily open. Exasperated she bellowed at me.' I wanted it shut'. I locked it, quickly moving on, not really expecting or receiving thanks.

Another month another National Live broadcast at the Sheringham Little Theatre of David Hare's new play I'm Not Running.'. It centres on the past life and political awakening of Pauline and her relationship with her former lover from student  days, Jack. Their trajectories both lead into politics but take divergent routes getting there. Jack climbs up the Labour hierarchy, whilst Pauline becomes a popular single issue campaigner against NHS Hospital closures.

Hare captures the political posturing and hypocrisies of a man like Jack, a career politician, loyal to the party, but morally slippery. Though not drawn from one particular political figure, he is a recognisable amalgam of various Blairites. Its Hare's real skill as a dramatist to make us feel we know these people, whilst also showing what we don't know, their passions, frailties, origins and backgrounds, plus their honest desire to serve as well as their vain self deceptions. They become more rounded individuals instead of political ciphers or broad caricatures.

The attendance on the coldest night of the Winter so far, was noticeably thinner than for Alan Bennett's 'Alleluyah! in November. But this was David Hare, prickly and pointed, not the cudddly whimsy of Alan. Both plays subject matter crossed similar territory, but Hare's is a far superior play. His sentiments are far more under control than Bennett's. Hare's wit and humour is used to reveal character, to touch the real heart of the matter, producing guffaws of recognition

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There is a butcher's shop in Cromer called Icarus Hines, don't ask why.  I saw one of their tote bags hanging from a shopping trolley. In white cursive script lettering on black it said Icarus Hines -' More than just a Butcher.'  In what way Icarus Hines is more than just a butcher is unclear. Perhaps he serves cream teas whilst churning out the beef mince, forms macrame hanging baskets out of pig bones and hair, or is a bigamist and serial killer with bodies buried in his cold cellar. We do need to know.

The revamp of our Cottonwood Workshop website progresses. Its taken a bit longer than we'd originally anticipated, but it is nearing completion. Jnanasalin has found working on the never ending detail of it, has a real potential to do more than his head in. The end result will represent our business far better, and eventually people will be able to buy off it too. We continue to look out for a suitable retail site. Once the first VAT quarter is reached in April, businesses often pull up the drawbridge. Not to mention the added likelihood of a post Brexit collective throwing in of the towel. We are just waiting patiently to see what bubbles up.

Because of the division of our various creative labours, we can end up working isolated from each other, Vidyavajra in the workshop, Jnanasalin in the craft room. One consequence of this can be that we lose the sense of it being a shared project we are engaged in. So we are endeavouring to work on at least one project together. The results are often our best finished items. The first one off the block is a 1970's gold vellure covered ottoman transformed into an altogether more stylish contemporary item.

Before

After

In the meantime, Jnanasalin has found a brand new craft enthusiasm ~ learning to sew. As its all about precision cutting, sewing and assembling, like structural engineering, but in fine cloth, this is literally a marriage made in heaven. I've not seen him this joyfully enthusiastic and motivated since he discovered he was a major marvel with crochet. One of his first sewing tasks was making a pouch to put my Japanese Wood Cutlery in, the original was pink with white spots,which wasn't the hearts desire. So here we are embracing the full orientalist cliche. 

As I write, he's preparing his first mock up of a short sleeved shirt out of an old beige bedsheet
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Whilst walking the sunlit streets of Norwich, I passed a gaggle of slightly over excited middle aged ladies. One of them loudly declared, without a whiff of innuendo ~ 'But I love my bush'

At the moment I cannot concur.