bridget martin

The boat is being buffeted by strong winds and the motion is making me feel queasy. I look out of the windows on one side and there is brilliant sunshine but the windows on the other side reveal ominous clouds. If it is rough when we’re out sailing I focus my attention on the horizon and this usually keeps seasickness at bay but trying to work whilst the boat is rolling is becoming impossible. All of the masts in the marina are rocking from side to side and loose halyards are clanging furiously. The water is brown from soil erosion higher up in the river and there are no birds to be seen. Everything is hunkered down. I give up trying to work and stand staring at the sky before deciding to go out. Sometimes it is better to be out in the weather and after an hour of being torn and tugged at by the wind I return to the boat, rainswept but clear headed with a feather. I make a card.

The following day arrives cold and dry and bright. The sun rises boldly, proudly into the new day. The breeze is whistling, the air is sharp and seagulls wheel in the blue bright sky. It couldn’t be more different to yesterday. Working in the wheelhouse on a day like this is lovely. Pile on the layers and open the boat up to the cold, fresh air. Feel the elements. Very quickly I become immersed in a glorious muddle, there is no point in trying to be organised, it just wastes time. And anyway from chaos comes creation. The cards evolve slowly. Each one a gradual piecing together of fragments and thoughts. There is no efficiency or productivity and by the end of the day I have made two. Two slow pieces of art each reflecting the moments of my day, those seemingly insignificant moments, like the way light dances on water, the first glimpse of the moon, a sudden smile, a tangled stitch, a handwritten letter.

Why do I make things? To capture these moments – the fleeting, tragic, imperfect, wonderful experiences of being human. I make things as an antidote to the cold, mass produced bland, to feel a connection to other human beings, the earth, our home. The spark always comes from noticing these small moments that could so easily be missed. I want to lean in to each moment and feel it. I want to lean in to each moment and make something with heart.

Thank you for reading my musings. My cards and other pieces of work are available to buy from my shop