I have done it all my life. I have lived my life through a series of shifting viewfinders. I make deliberate and intentional decisions to shift the way I look at life and, with that, comes brand new shiny experiences. As I move into 7th decade on this planet I wanted to shift again so I did. I bought a wee van and had it converted into a micro studio ‘on the road’ and now the way I both see and interact with the world around me is changing.
The natural world shifts all the time and we are part of that world so we shift too. We are not, as some would believe, beyond the natural world and head of some kind of artifical food chain. We are, instead, part of a web of species that depend upon each other to exist. We are, however, the species that has done the most damage to the planet and as I enter the autumn of my life the need to do more to protect the planet seems more acute than ever. This is, do doubt, bound up in the concept of legacy. I have been an environmental artist for over 20 years and, although semi retired, I still want both my creative processes and outcomes to speak to what we might do to alter the pathway humanity finds itself on.
My van is stealth in nature so I can be sitting at my desk working and folk wouldn’t necessary know. One day, recently, I was working away when someone walked past the van and dropped some litter without any sense that what he was doing was hugely unhelpful for all who inhabit the world we live in. Who did he think was going to pick it up? Where did he think it would end up? Just as I was contemplating that the breeze picked it up and began tossing it towards the edge of the incoming tide. Paintbrush in mouth, I flung open the van doors and began to chase. I reached the piece of plastic bag just as it entered the water noting how like a jellyfish it already looked. I took said plastic back to the van further contemplating how I might use it in my creative work. Just as I was getting back into the van, still with the paintbrush in my mouth, another human walked past and drop a cigarette packet before stepping on a cigarette butt. No words. I draw the line at working creatively with cigarette butts so I disposed of that and the offending packet in the bin which was yards from me.
I had an idea for a wee experiment. I made a cup of coffee and waited. I was going to sit there for 20 minutes and watch if any more litter was dropped. In that time 14 people walked past the van and 6 of them dropped litter. I was amazed and disappointed in equal measure. Two of them dropped plastic dog poo bags when reaching into their pockets to get car keys out. Both noticed they had done that and then ignored the fact. I left the van again and gathered up all the litter disposing of it all in the correct bins nearby.
When I decided to get this van and turn it into a wee studio on the road I didn’t think it would be about litter. I am sure it will become much more than this but this is its first encounter with the world around it and so it has shifted my viewfinder. My very first open studio exhibition on the island was all about waste that had been gathered on the shore that I turned into bowls, textile wall art and textile jewellery. That was many years ago but I find that circumstances are taking me back there but this time I wanted to widen my relationship with waste to embrace litter dropped on the shore, the moorlands and the beautiful woodlands that we claim we love so much.









I have already begun this journey and I have created a context for this work. It is true my van gives me a studio on the road but I can be in there largely unseen. On warm enough and dry days I want to set my studio up outside the van on a bench, a rock or a grassy hump. There you will find me working away with litter to create pieces to sell in my Etsy shop and beyond. Small, manageable pieces that I can make on the go. I find myself being grateful to the chap that dropped the piece of plastic, that morphed into a jellyfish, as it shifted my viewfinder and I am entering a familiar but slightly new creative space that offers me the chance to do something important. I think in our 7th decade we should do something important.
So as I travel in my darling wee van, Willow, I am going to create work that takes acoount of a species intent on littering the world. As I make work on my grassy hump or rock by the sea I hope to engage folk in conversations about litter and the place it should not have in our world. I hope children will be curious and ask me questions. I hope to make a point over and over again that there is no place for litter in our world. I would love some travelling companions. Folk that get what I am trying to do and wander along with me. I might even create some creative projects involving litter that we can all get involved in? This project won’t be behind a paywall or within my paid book arts subscription. It will be completely free for anyone who would like to access it. If, like me, you feel the need to pick up litter I would advise a litter picker, some gloves and some recycled plastic bags (that can also be recycled again). I would also recommend that folk do some local sorting to put the litter in the most approriate bins. But given all that we are good to go.
I sat on a large rock on the edge of the shore and made some pieces using blue pastic rope that I had washed in the van and hung on a make shift washing line to dry. I then used it as decorative detail for my pieces alongside some buttons that were deemed ‘seconds’ and gifted to me. Lucky me. The fabric is recycled vintage blanket, hand dyed cotton scrim and the beads are all from broken necklaces from the island charity store. My wee collection of amulets, brooches and a wee travel needle book will find their way on my Etsy shelves in the coming week along with a brand new graphic. It is a tiny start using wee bits of plastic rope but it signals intent and that is important. Let’s see where it takes me this time…..





So I would love it if you would like to join me in my quest to remove litter and find creative ways to use it one project at a time. You would be most welcome and do let me know whether you would find tutorials for some of my projects useful?
Thank you for engaging in this post, I feel that is important to say.
Fiona x
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…
This post resonated deeply and what a fantastic adventure to be embarking on! My dear friend who I met when we were 12 and we were lifelong friends, had an absolute mission to collect litter - the careless drop and go habit of people drove her crazy. She always took a bag, gloves and a litter picker wherever she went. The last chapter of her life was spent searching for treatments for ovarian cancer - she and her husband had retired after working hard, had bought a beautiful mobile home they called Lola and were planning trips to explore Europe. Then after much battling with her Doctor who thought she was overreacting to a lump she could feel she got her diagnosis and it plunged her into a very different set of journeys. She was beautiful, creative, astute, opinionated, brave, loved beauty, nature, John Clare, beloved by family and friends and was taken too soon. Missed by so many. She lived every moment with a fierce passion and I know she would have loved what you are doing. So thank you for your post and for bringing my dear friend so sharply back into the present.
It is so sad. Heartbreaking that your first van experiences was to witness littering but I love how you’ve decided to turn it into something positive. Yes of course I’d love to see what you do with it. You truly are a one in a million. ☺️