Searching wildly through a mound of stuff, stored away in old wine crates, for some ink cartridges to satisfy my stationary craving, I came across these photos. Over five years ago a little project of mine, The Cow House, came to life for a summer of indigo dyeing, cakes, films and magic. These pictures almost epitomise my childhood memories of growing up on Dartmoor surrounded by stories. To have spent my formative years engulfed in my imagination fuelled by the moors, myths, ancient stone buildings, rivers and fruit trees was the stuff of fairytales. I see the farm worn concrete floor and ramshackle doors framed in a nostalgic summer light with Dad's hand made dolls house and see my past, but also my future.
A future of breathing life into forgotten things, non existent things. Maybe even bringing things into life - weavings, stories, children. Keeping a life of family and friendship in which to ground a future.
