I've been waking each night as I turn over on the blow-up mattress which threatens to turf me onto the floor each time I move. I can hear the sound of scrub hens fighting in the garden and the night plovers and eagles whirling above. There is the unmistakable sound of a peacock calling in a yard nearby. The sun doesn't rise until 7am and there is a strange mixture of mist and smoke from the big fire at Berry Springs hugging the ground. I'm making paper clay so I sit in bed methodically shredding toilet paper into a bucket between my legs. I'm thinking that my flat mates are probably wondering what is the strange noise coming from my bedroom in the wee hours of the night.
Today in the studios of Territory Craft I finally made something with clay. Up to now I've be plaster casting and linocutting in preparation for ceramic work. I slab rolled the clay and made two protazoan inspired clocks.
