West Dean Silversmithing.
My (illustrated) week. By Corvid.
==================================
I was here - http://www.westdean.org.uk/
(If you just want to see what I made just scroll to the last couple of pictures)
Day: Monday
Stuff: West Dean is the sort of house that has corridors and staircases that lead off in random directions and where no floor is on less than six different levels with at least four different wings each with connecting doors. In short it is both glorious and the sort of place where a wrong turn renders you extremely lost.
People: There are 8 of us on the course. Three of the people are mad old ladies who are 80+ and have been coming here for years. One lady is very horse-and-hound-home-counties. Two ladies are younger and both nice. The ‘token male’ is absent. The tutor Brian Marshal is relaxed and practical and looks like he’s spent all him many years soldering things in a potting shed. The food is tasty. My room is like a little pod, heehee.
Neurons are: Terrified
Most of West Dean looks like this -
And has stuff like this -
Also Weeping Angels who await in ambush at the bottom of the stairs...
Day: Tuesday
Stuff: Little sleep, early start. Someone was playing the most beautiful piece of piano music I’ve ever heard as I came downstairs past the music room. Token male arrives. Everyone is making silver bowls or spoons or cake-slices and such. (This seems rather a waste of silver to me, but oh well…) No one seems to really believe for a minute I could possibly know what I’m doing. By lunch time this opinion has (thankfully) been revised. Corvid evidently knows what she is doing, is better prepared than anyone else, and should mostly be left to get on with it and play with the flame throwers torches in peace.
Neurons are: Oooooh!
The way to my room...
Day: Wednesday
Stuff: Breakfast is at 8. Classes start at 9.15 although we have the secret of the lock code so can steal into the workshop earlier and can also stay until 10pm if we wish. No one in this place socializes much; everyone is far too wrapped up in art like it’s their favourite blanket. I think this is rather what Corvidia must be like. Am getting cuts, scrapes and minor burns all over my fingers.
Neurons are: Working
View from my window...
Still from my window - do note the random round bit of building that serves no purpose... Or does it?
Day: Thursday
Stuff: Do not much care for mad old ladies who call me a ‘good girl’ a ‘clever girl’ or even a ‘little girl who likes to do things her own way’. Mad old ladies also like to gossip: but they can’t gossip with you if you’re hunched over your work and don’t even look at them - hahah! Claire (lady not much older than I, also non-mad and non-vexing) bought me a glass of wine in the bar and we actually spent half an hour chatting about random things and not just silversmithing. Been in the workshop 10hours+ today.
Neurons are: Shattered
That round bit of building has secret stone stairs...
And a Weeping Angel waiting to kill you at the top.
Day: Friday
Stuff: Curious to know if I’ve gained half a stone as have been eating cooked breakfast, proper lunch, full supper and very tasty old-school-style puddings; basically at least twice as much as I usually eat. My jeans still fit so I’m assuming somehow I’ve managed not to. Today is a crazy day as everyone needs to finish their pieces and they all want the tutor to do it for them. I don’t want the tutor to do it for me, I just want him to tell me how to set a stone and then leave me to it. Have started (and finished) another pendant whilst waiting. 3.30 - kicking out time - necklaces are complete and all my stuff is tidied away. Am I allowed to be a tiny bit pleased with myself? My father isn’t picking me up today (not that he told me this) so I have an evening at my leisure here. I want to do another course, I don’t want to give the workshop back.
Neurons are: Sad
My Bedlam shield pendant made in a day.
My tombstone/ghost/ouija necklace set with iolite and moonstone and a spinny thing.
(I've just realised the photo is reversed so the letters are backwards... They're the right way round in reality, honest.)
Day: Saturday
Stuff: Hello internet, how are you? Oh, look, it’s a world - who left that lying about? On the way home I stopped in Lewes and visited Darcy. I have an 18th century shirt and an Arundel collar. Gleee!
Neurons are: Bouncy
==================================
I was here - http://www.westdean.org.uk/
(If you just want to see what I made just scroll to the last couple of pictures)
Day: Monday
Stuff: West Dean is the sort of house that has corridors and staircases that lead off in random directions and where no floor is on less than six different levels with at least four different wings each with connecting doors. In short it is both glorious and the sort of place where a wrong turn renders you extremely lost.
People: There are 8 of us on the course. Three of the people are mad old ladies who are 80+ and have been coming here for years. One lady is very horse-and-hound-home-counties. Two ladies are younger and both nice. The ‘token male’ is absent. The tutor Brian Marshal is relaxed and practical and looks like he’s spent all him many years soldering things in a potting shed. The food is tasty. My room is like a little pod, heehee.
Neurons are: Terrified
Most of West Dean looks like this -
And has stuff like this -
Also Weeping Angels who await in ambush at the bottom of the stairs...
Day: Tuesday
Stuff: Little sleep, early start. Someone was playing the most beautiful piece of piano music I’ve ever heard as I came downstairs past the music room. Token male arrives. Everyone is making silver bowls or spoons or cake-slices and such. (This seems rather a waste of silver to me, but oh well…) No one seems to really believe for a minute I could possibly know what I’m doing. By lunch time this opinion has (thankfully) been revised. Corvid evidently knows what she is doing, is better prepared than anyone else, and should mostly be left to get on with it and play with the flame throwers torches in peace.
Neurons are: Oooooh!
The way to my room...
Day: Wednesday
Stuff: Breakfast is at 8. Classes start at 9.15 although we have the secret of the lock code so can steal into the workshop earlier and can also stay until 10pm if we wish. No one in this place socializes much; everyone is far too wrapped up in art like it’s their favourite blanket. I think this is rather what Corvidia must be like. Am getting cuts, scrapes and minor burns all over my fingers.
Neurons are: Working
View from my window...
Still from my window - do note the random round bit of building that serves no purpose... Or does it?
Day: Thursday
Stuff: Do not much care for mad old ladies who call me a ‘good girl’ a ‘clever girl’ or even a ‘little girl who likes to do things her own way’. Mad old ladies also like to gossip: but they can’t gossip with you if you’re hunched over your work and don’t even look at them - hahah! Claire (lady not much older than I, also non-mad and non-vexing) bought me a glass of wine in the bar and we actually spent half an hour chatting about random things and not just silversmithing. Been in the workshop 10hours+ today.
Neurons are: Shattered
That round bit of building has secret stone stairs...
And a Weeping Angel waiting to kill you at the top.
Day: Friday
Stuff: Curious to know if I’ve gained half a stone as have been eating cooked breakfast, proper lunch, full supper and very tasty old-school-style puddings; basically at least twice as much as I usually eat. My jeans still fit so I’m assuming somehow I’ve managed not to. Today is a crazy day as everyone needs to finish their pieces and they all want the tutor to do it for them. I don’t want the tutor to do it for me, I just want him to tell me how to set a stone and then leave me to it. Have started (and finished) another pendant whilst waiting. 3.30 - kicking out time - necklaces are complete and all my stuff is tidied away. Am I allowed to be a tiny bit pleased with myself? My father isn’t picking me up today (not that he told me this) so I have an evening at my leisure here. I want to do another course, I don’t want to give the workshop back.
Neurons are: Sad
My Bedlam shield pendant made in a day.
My tombstone/ghost/ouija necklace set with iolite and moonstone and a spinny thing.
(I've just realised the photo is reversed so the letters are backwards... They're the right way round in reality, honest.)
Day: Saturday
Stuff: Hello internet, how are you? Oh, look, it’s a world - who left that lying about? On the way home I stopped in Lewes and visited Darcy. I have an 18th century shirt and an Arundel collar. Gleee!
Neurons are: Bouncy