On the table in the tent is a tablecloth. Tablecloths became a bit of an obsession during my diploma at West Dean. I will write more about that another time. Suffice to say I wanted a living tablecloth to form a backdrop to my work at Hawthbush. I had been writing notes on it and wiping ink on it, clay dried on it creating a lovely patina and a guest even spilt their coffee on it. A record of my experiences here. And then on my return here after lockdown I found this comment written on what must have been a low day for me. This is something I need to fix over the next year. Promise.