I posted this piece in autumn last year which means it’s in my paywalled archive but I’ve decided to make it available to read for free again, prompted by the recent interest - especially on Substack Notes this morning - in my mum’s art. In a typically generous gesture, she’s given me a few of her wonderful meadow hare linoprints, plus some other goodies, to send to new paid subscribers today. Anyone who takes out a full annual paid subscription will as usual receive signed copies of my books Villager and Notebook but the first four will also receive one of these hares - in a separate envelope, to prevent it getting damaged - and I have a selection of six other prints to send, too, so if you’re one of the first ten, you’ll get books AND original art (the offer applies worldwide: I’ll email you for your address once I get notified about your subscription). You’ll also be able to read
As a contemporary of your parents (and mother of a son called Tom!) I'm utterly charmed by this piece - not just by the two of them and their abundant creativity, but by your tender and thoughtful appreciation of them, while cunningly avoiding schmaltzy tweeness! Bless you!
In the work I do with my clients I always see this shift. Once we have sorted out their SHEET, they want to start digging into their creative side. It's almost as if that's what we are supposed to be doing, and AI should be doing all the shitty tasks, like cleaning the shower (why on earth isn't it self-cleaning?).
So inspired by your mum. By her proving she's an artist by just bloody well making a lot of art, rather than sitting around sighing or ruminating about it. I'm 42, still figuring out what I can do, and I already feel too old, too weird, too slow, like everyone's racing past me, but I know the way forward is to just keep quietly making stuff regardless. Thanks, Jo, for being a light on the path. Thanks, Tom, for sharing her story.
Thanks Josie. 42 is pretty much adolescence in artistic terms. The internet has a way of making it feel like everyone’s racing past you, though, that’s for sure.
I was so worried that you were going to end this piece with her artwork floating down the river! Thank you so much for sharing her story with us. I’d love to be her neighbor.
That was just what I needed to read, this Monday morning. Me and the better half are trying to harness our skills and get a wee business up and running and sometimes you need a bit of inspiration. Cheers.
I've bought lots of your mum's beautiful art from her Etsy shop over the years, and had some of her prints up in my Dubai apartment, where they kept me and my cats great company, and were much admired.
As and when I have a little money spare, it's always her site I gravitate towards ... I now have a stack of things, waiting for the day I have my own space again, and can have what I want on the walls.
Oh to be from a family of artists! It breaks my heart that my Dad put off his plans of painting until after he retired, but he never really retired. My Mum went to art college back in the sixties - unheard of for a miner’s daughter - but never used the talent that she presumably had beyond making clothes for me when I was a child
As a contemporary of your parents (and mother of a son called Tom!) I'm utterly charmed by this piece - not just by the two of them and their abundant creativity, but by your tender and thoughtful appreciation of them, while cunningly avoiding schmaltzy tweeness! Bless you!
Thanks so much, Liz. None of us are big schmaltz or twee enthusiasts.
In the work I do with my clients I always see this shift. Once we have sorted out their SHEET, they want to start digging into their creative side. It's almost as if that's what we are supposed to be doing, and AI should be doing all the shitty tasks, like cleaning the shower (why on earth isn't it self-cleaning?).
What a lovely story. We should all be so blessed as to answer “art,” when asked what we’ve been up to all day.
Your mum's artwork is astonishing in its quality and variety of style and method. That she found this later in life is inspiration for us all.
So inspired by your mum. By her proving she's an artist by just bloody well making a lot of art, rather than sitting around sighing or ruminating about it. I'm 42, still figuring out what I can do, and I already feel too old, too weird, too slow, like everyone's racing past me, but I know the way forward is to just keep quietly making stuff regardless. Thanks, Jo, for being a light on the path. Thanks, Tom, for sharing her story.
Thanks Josie. 42 is pretty much adolescence in artistic terms. The internet has a way of making it feel like everyone’s racing past you, though, that’s for sure.
You are a very talented bunch! Her paintings are so lovely. I wish I had that ability! Thanks for sharing these.
Lovely.
Thank you for this captivating piece!
I was so worried that you were going to end this piece with her artwork floating down the river! Thank you so much for sharing her story with us. I’d love to be her neighbor.
Thanks for posting the link. Love your mum’s art! Bought a piece to remind me to hope - on this very dark day in the US.
beautiful
Your Mum's work is beautiful
So relatable and beautiful. Thank you for sharing!
Thanks Christina!
That was just what I needed to read, this Monday morning. Me and the better half are trying to harness our skills and get a wee business up and running and sometimes you need a bit of inspiration. Cheers.
I've bought lots of your mum's beautiful art from her Etsy shop over the years, and had some of her prints up in my Dubai apartment, where they kept me and my cats great company, and were much admired.
As and when I have a little money spare, it's always her site I gravitate towards ... I now have a stack of things, waiting for the day I have my own space again, and can have what I want on the walls.
Oh to be from a family of artists! It breaks my heart that my Dad put off his plans of painting until after he retired, but he never really retired. My Mum went to art college back in the sixties - unheard of for a miner’s daughter - but never used the talent that she presumably had beyond making clothes for me when I was a child