Last post, I was slightly circumspect about the tale behind my paper leaves - I wasn't too sure that writing about it was okay with the people involved, but now the 'thumbs up' have been given, I can share their backstory properly with you all. These leaves are part of a commission. A paper installation for the Lancaster Literature Festival.
The brief was to create something three dimensional using upcycled books for a truly vast space in the beautiful building where the festival is based. I could hardly contain my joy at being asked. How often is one given carte blanche to let the imagination run riot?
But I needed to rein myself in somewhat, because the deadline? Tight, tight, tight. And it needed to be easy to install and transportable too. Leaves seemed somehow appropriate - from trees through paper to books and back again, the journeys that the published word takes and all kinds of other, semi-articulated reasons.
And so this week has been buried under a sea of book pages, where I wield my scalpel and conjure up leaf shapes to sew into the long chains which will twirl from the roof space. And in a teeny tiny way, take their place alongside people like Carol Ann Duffy, Anne Fine, Kate Clanchy, Ali Shaw, Amy Sackville, Ian Rankin and Betsy Tobin. Not to mention the work of Charles Dickens and Edgar Allan Poe, though they will not be making personal appearances. Bit like me - clearly I am in the very best of company.
But I so wish I could be there. For the incredible line up of speakers, of course, but partly to give a giant hug to the fairy blog-mother whose kind words put my name out there and allowed me to take part in what is going to be an incredible festival. She's shy, but the sharp eyed readers amongst you, who read both our blogs (and there are many, I think) might well have made out the link between us. You really have no idea how much of my confidence you've given back to me. And I am ridiculously grateful.