sarah campbell


Ahh for a paddle!

 

Gliding on a mirror.

The last two weeks have left me with little doubt that what goes around most definitely comes around. Oh yes,  my teenage strut, swagger and lip has come back to wallop me square in the face in the form of my 13-year-old son.

To be quite honest I find the comments, in the main, hilarious because they’re so bonkers and well… hormonal. However, they don’t half get you thinking about the generational divide. Yesterday I said to Tom “What do you reckon we go for a paddle today?” 

 ”MUUUUM, Don’t EVER say PADDLE .  WHAT, are you trying to be COOL or something…Yeuuugh?”

“What? What am I supposed to say?” I ask with a grin slowly spreading from ear to ear.”It’s not FUNNY Mum. I mean just don’t TRY AND BE COOL ’cause you are SO not. “”Well what am I supposed to say then?”"KAYAAAAAK”"Oh alright then, Do you want to go Kayaaaaking?”" Uuuuugh”

 Anyway, we did go Kayaking and it was  beautiful. It was slightly marred because we coincided with a spring tide on the out  and had to carry our kayaks on a journey that would have made Shackleton proud.Apart from wet exploits and teenage banter life offers me the opportunity to make lampshades and brooches for faceless customers with interesting names.



CHAOS TO …less chaos.
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In a frenzied cloud of creativity

There’s quite definitely a recurring theme about my life. It has to do with order and chaos and how I constantly seem to be on a quest to turn the former in to the latter be it with a hoover, sewing needle or Sage accounts.

Does everybody tangle with this issue in such a  pressing way – or is it just us creatives? You see, what I’m wondering is this. Are creative people just actually very chaotic people whose lives are consumed with the process of trying to establish some order from the bomb crater of a brain that they have been born with?

Today I felt, for a moment, the satisfaction of a task achieved, chaos calmed and commitment attended to in the preparation and completion of fabric samples for a potential client.

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Fabric stitched in to cherry blossom and honesty samples

However, 10 minutes later the cycle begins again but this time with linen and Bondaweb.

Perhaps if I shuffled out of this mortal coil and found myself ever so ordered I might not feel the compulsion to create, and that fills me with dread. I wonder if this is why so few artist run financially sound

enterprises? – because they are fearful that their creative urge will drain from their brain with the onset of filing systems and storage boxes.

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Stitched Samples in their File, ready to post to customer

…just a thought.

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Oh so orderly!



THE WONDER OF WEE TREES
April 20, 2012, 8:41 pm
Filed under: Croft | Tags: , , ,

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Last year Roger showed unbridled delight as he proudly demonstrated a small leaf peeping over the top of his tree guard. Whilst making all the outward signs of being most impressed I quietly wondered what all the fuss was about. It’s a small tree … they grow!

Now, every morning I find some excuse to wander over to the croft. I usually mumble something about feeding the perfectly fat hogs or walking the dog, however foremost in my mind is the pressing desire to watch saplings.

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Every day I walk measured and astute, like a judge at crufts, up the fencing line of our newly installed shelter belt.  I monitor the shine of the leaves, the hue of the bark, the form of growth, but mostly I revel in the inner glow that comes from just watching my babies tentatively reaching out to the elements and flourishing.

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Lambing Live
April 19, 2012, 9:56 pm
Filed under: Croft, life on lismore | Tags: , , ,

Mum and Twins

” A step closer…and I’m on you!”

Fortunately, along with the emerging lambs we are thankful for a sun which emerges from clouds. How blissful to walk in warmth with vitamin D liberally bestowed upon my winter weathered cheeks. I find many opportunities to shimmy out of my studio, down the stairs and in to spring’s glorious living room. Surely there is no more joyous sight than the primrose that crowd the mossy banks, than the insistent wag of a lambs tail as it buts mum for milk with its impossibly cute little nose.

That's the nose I'm talking about.

However, the whole lambing business is something we have yet to experience fully.  This year I am more aware than ever that we too will, before long have to tread the croft at dawn attending to problem births and ,god help us, having to do that skinning thing.

Fortunately, OUR farmer/mentor has unwittingly shown us an awful lot as he goes about his long and eventful lambing. However, this morning taught me what a lot there is to learn. I was walking back from the croft, saw Archie attending to a sheep by his quad trailer when he shouted me over. He was expressing milk from the sheep’s udder and wanted me to open the quad back, grab the lamb which was inside. He hauled the sheep in and I placed the lamb our side of it to feed. I asked him why he was expressing milk and he told me the sheep had mastitis and he needed to remove any bad milk/colostrum so that the lamb could safely feed.  “How do you know the sheep’s got mastitis” I asked, “Oh, you can just tell?”. I quietly eye the udder looking for any sign of engorgement. ..”and how do you know the lamb is hungry?” ” Hell of a racket it was making and mum wasn’t anywhere near it”  Still, I also know that lambs make a racket when they can’t find their mum, and then there’s that business of skinning a dead lamb and tying it pelt onto another so that a mum who’s lost her own will accept another lamb because it smells right.

I’m glad, for now to be waking at a reasonable hour and spending my spring making love LAMPSHADES and silk curtains. I’m quite contended to wait another year before experiencing a sheeps birth canal first hand.

Jeff Love Sanj. Say it with a lampshade!



SUN – yum!
October 17, 2011, 9:41 pm
Filed under: life on lismore | Tags: , , , ,

Soleil by Labokoff

I need vitamin D. I know this because I want to eat this picture, nay,I want to fall into it, clamber inside like a child into Narnia (in summertime!) I’m TIRED of grey.

Us Leasachs have now endured way beyond a fair quota of grey. All the farmers need to collect their silage is three dry days, THREE DRY DAYS! The silage fields lie dull and damp, the grass once fine and tall has slumped with exhaustion after straining too hard for the rarest glimpse of sun. Three dry days, that’s all we ask.

Yellow is like a drug to me right now. Do you think I need one of these sunlight lamps?

This is what I’m going to do. I’m going to get my fix of yellow by sneaking little linden green leaves and acid yellow sparkle into my commissions. Yes I am! Naughty, but oh so nice.

Samples for the next commission with a few sneaky yellow bits courtesy of photoshop.



Tractor trouble
August 30, 2011, 8:30 pm
Filed under: home | Tags: , ,

The wonderfully anarchic work of Robert Rauschenberg

I spent a good chunk of last night panicking about yesterday’s blog post – about  exploring the form and colour of a harebell. I mean WHAT IS HAPPENING TO ME! Where is my inner anarchist, where is the wild, gregarious abstractor, the foot thumper, the twister and turner of  ideas. Obviously nowhere to be seen last night! However I am sensing some devilish, naughty little creations peeping over my creative wall so – watch out!

Not exactly the Brad Pitt of Tractors...but we love him anyway.

However, today we have been mending tractors amongst other things. Fred,Frodo, Trevor  (see mammoth facebook discussion regarding his name) decided to rumble to a halt. It’s at times like this that I thank utterly everything that I have a man about who isn’t phased by cylinders covered in  diesel treacle and fuel filters gunged up with something that looks like cat vomit. I like to stand by as a nurse might in surgery…predicting what tool might be needed next and handing it to the surgeon with attentive, quiet confidence and wishing I had spent more time listening in Physics and less time impersonating our very small teacher. It’s when Yorick asks me for an opinion that my mask of knowing is whipped from my being like the unveiling of a scooby doo villain. It goes a bit like this.

Yorick: Could you undo the fuel cap Sarah?

Me: Yeaaah sure!  I wander quietly around the tractor tentatively tugging at anything resembling a knob until my eyes spot a likely looking thing that I can turn. I turn and turn and then the whole front bonnet thing falls off. Ooops! Wrong knob.

Fortunately we can address this imbalance in technical ability with my prowess when it comes to household administrative duties so I don’t feel totally useless in this duet of life and I do get to huff and puff occasionally and make Yorick feel incompetent. However tonight, with Trevor Tractor. I DID.



Bluebell Blind

Phew. I finally start to settle back into some sort of routine after the summer session where I felt a little like a ping pong ball in play – batted to and fro from A to B. In some ways great to camp a bit, festival a bit, explore a bit. However I increasingly started to feel the need to settle  – a lot, and how better to ground myself than with the study of bluebells (harebells if you’re English) for a Roman Blind.

Sketching flowers from various angles for applique

Included with the blind was a complimentary lampshade made from the sample piece used to try out different techniques prior to making.

Tangle of stems and a flower head.

and the blind itself was much appreciated by a delightful client.

Harebell Roman blind set into the dormer window.

Next project…Sloe berry blinds x 2 and a set of curtains. So far so good.




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