I photographed the crib montage I created this weekend: out of the Smith Crisp box now almost disintegrated, out of the pig shed, where it is kept all year round, out of storage where it had been kept for years since packing up 35 Quebec Road, emerged a dozen or so clay figures, each wrapped in newspaper, this time Guardian from 2018, and were placed according to tribal identity. Mary and Jospeh recognisable as they both had hallos, the baby jesus in a manger, around them cattle, donkey’s. To the side shepherds, (bare legs!), and sheep, (practically laying down, legs tough to do in clay), and 3 wise men, with unsually ethnic black faces and all carrying gifts, with 4 magnificent impressive camels. Particularly impressive as these camels and the rest would have been created by children in Swanton Morely RAF school, white, Norfolk children, who it is doubtful had ever seen a camel. These were children my mother taught, and she must have commissioned this project. It is sweet to remember her this time of year as I get out these creative manifestations of her teaching. Sometimes I can see her laughing at the forms, and feel her pride in the children’s achievement. She was not given to laughter or pride, so it is an unusual glimpse.
They are enclosed in my amateur attempts at weaving baskets, one at Buddhafield festival and the back one, an attempt at a rucksack at Wakelyns. The foil, by Lin, is a beautiful asymmetric basket.
At the other end of the short daylight day, I abandoned my computer and the chain of emails, and collected Michael to take him shopping to Lidl. As we drove through the fading light, he said.
‘Won’t it be good when Lidl comes to Halesworth, and we won’t have to make this journey’. I suspect we both had the same thought, there was a pause before i said
‘Not for 2-3 years yet’. Another pause
‘I probably wont be alive then’
So we spoke about this stage in life, which was just beginning to arrive in my consciousness, that I would not be alive when the trees I planted were grown, when Sizewell C was built, when 600 houses arrive in Halesworth without infrastructure.
“I won’t see my grandchild grow up” said Michael.
Kalikellett 