Welcome to my wee corner of Substack. I am a seasonal artist living on the Isle of Arran, off the west coast of Scotland. I am the custodian of approximately two acres of land that includes a woodland, a meadow and my wee garden. I offer a seasonal book arts project for paid subscribers if you are interested and you can read more about that HERE. Grab a cuppa and lets delve into our relationship with the shifting seasons….
I am blessed to live metres from the sea and I walk on the shore daily. Over the years I have collected sea glass and pottery with the occasional shell. The question I get asked a lot is what do I do with it all. This last week I shared one of my favourite ever finds and then where it ended up in my handmade fire surround. You can probably spot it?


My favourite finds are pottery as I imagine all these fragements have their own story to tell. A few years back I created an exhibition piece based on a gentle creative exercise while having coffee in the garden. I emptied my pockets from the beach walk and then began to lay the pieces in a line looking for some natural points of tessellation.
I was immediated captivated by all these wee beach fragments coming together to tell their new story. I have been a community artist my entire adult life and I know how the sum can be greater than the parts in terms of creative potential. I carefully carried my new story into the studio and spent quite some time extracting colours that I felt would work before taking a large leap into using inks to create a new chapter of the emerging story.




The whole process was immersive and I still didn’t know where I was heading. I was letting the fragments lead. It is too easy to engage my design brain in these moments and to avoid that I stay in ‘play mode’ as long as I can in the sure knowledge that that will feed the outcome the best. The final piece was to be exhibited in Dunoon and they have their own shoreline. I began to understand that this piece was no more than a sharing from one shore to another and I instantly fell in love with that idea. In my world that is so important. I need to fall in love with the process otherwise the creativity dries up. I always found exhibition work the hardest creative context to work within as you have a deadline. You also pretty much have to say what you are doing before you start the process. I tended to keep my outcomes as vague as possible!
The ink drawing still hangs in my studio but in the process it was abandoned in favour of the natural colours of the fragments. There lay the creative challenge. The intention was to recreate this tessellated design in textile art. If I am honest I thought it was going to be easier than it turned out to be! First all the fabric pieces had to be dyed using plants and that process took far longer than I anticipated to get decent colour matches. Once I was happy I then had to start cutting out the fragments and stitching them to the cloth and adding detail.


As the piece developed I turned to the layers deciding how to finish them and I realised how much I loved the tacking stitches. Controversially, I left them in and hung the piece on a piece of driftwood. When a piece goes into exhibition you kind of hold your breath waiting for the response. I could have sold this piece many times over but I marked it not for sale and it still remains with me. One day I will pass it on but I am just waiting for the right moment. I made pictures and journals to go with the piece and sold those so I didn’t feel so bad for keeping the main piece.









Now, looking back on this small collection I can see the story as it unfolded and as the creative moments began to blossom into something I was proud of. The collection tells the story of the shore metres from my home. One littered with rock pools, seaweed and tiny corners of joy. Whatever our creative outlet there should be so much joy in what we do otherwise what is the point? Those that know my work well know how invested I am in the creative process. It is the part that brings the best moments and I am eternally indebted to it.
I am at the stage in my life when I am giving back and Substack plays an important role in that quest. This project took far longer than anticipated but it taught me so much and I carried that teaching into the next project. I rarely have a plan and I think that has spoken well to my creative journey over the years. I believe in the power of play and, if I could, I would bottle it to preserve it forever. If I want anything for young folk it is that they understand the potential of creativity as a space to play, feel free and spend endless joyful moments.




Over the years I have used the fragments found on the shore in lots of different ways. I now have a deep need to start passing on some of my precious treasures and I have the perfect avenue to achieve that. I will simply pop them in my Etsy parcels, how cool is that? A little piece of the island heading to a new home….. The thought of entering my 7th decade on the planet was not one that I relished but I couldn’t have been more wrong. Each and every day is joyful as I find new ways to share and pass on. It is time. Fiona x
I loved reading this. I was drawn along the story and although eager to speed read, I forced myself to slow down and enjoy the journey. My pace may have, in time and space, matched your art works.
I too am an artist. Not knowing what is around the next bend and embracing the slightest suggestion of joy. I am here to give and receive joy!
I am a wild swimmer too and never forget to look down as well as up - the shoreline can often throw up a surprise to be treasured.
I was enchanted with the idea of playfulness, as I promote this all the time. As children, when we played, we forgot time and when called in for a meal or bedtime it was a harsh interruption. I try to re-create this utter immersion in play and creativity without an agenda.
I treasure the piece you sent to me; it’s in my box of treasures which have come to me from various places and people over the years 🙏❤️