I recently had a discussion with two fellow artists about possible titles for an upcoming show. One of the ideas, ‘The Sacred Space of Making’, and the conversation that we had around it, has really stayed with me, even though the title was put aside. But considering it has made me question and think more deeply about many aspects of my practice and approach to life, so much so that I’ve been asking people what the word ‘sacred’ means to them. I have been fascinated and intrigued by the variety of answers that I’ve had and the dialogue that it’s sparked.

For me the sacred space of making means having my specific, special physical place to create in as well as the moment when I reach that all-consuming involvement with my materials. These moments are rare and sacred. I’m a real nest builder, and my home is sacrosanct to me, it’s my haven, my sanctuary, and my studio even more so. I am very privileged to have a beautiful studio where I live, and I consider both the physical space and the time and peace that I find within it to be sacred. I’m an artist who needs a door that I can close so nobody disturbs me when I’m in that sacred space of creating; when I’m in the moment, thinking through ideas and reaching another plane. When I’m in that ’space’, I’m at peace with the world and totally aligned with the materials that I’m working with and the work that I’m creating. It’s such an exciting and extraordinary feeling; sometimes it’s as though some outside force leads  through me via my arms and hands, and some of my pieces have ended up taking a completely different course to what I imagined because the materials have led the way.

Having said that, most of the time it’s my serious profession, which is often exposing, involving working through big question marks, taking risks, moments of deep doubt and concerns for the environment as well as playing.

It’s very rare to find all-consuming moments in life, and although I’m constantly striving for them as an artist, they’re not easy to find or predictable; sometimes I can be in the studio for a whole day and don’t find a way into the work, or suddenly things will click and I’ll be in the studio all night, communing with myself, my work and compelled to create. Religion was embedded in my childhood and the spiritual element has strongly stayed with me. From a spiritual point of view I believe there is something more mysterious and bigger than us humans, and I think that feeling of being perfectly in tune with my work and purpose can be a spiritual experience for me, my studio becoming a chapel of thought where I regularly worship.

But while I’m a private person and love my own space, I also have a deep need to connect and share with people about things that are important to me and I am passionate about. When I’m ready for my work to be seen, I have an ever-increasing drive to share it and its message. That is what gives me purpose, and that purpose has seen me through some of the hardest times of my life. I’m not an artist who makes solely for the enjoyment or inquiry of making; I want my work to engage with others. The moment that a piece of my work goes out into the world and somebody sees it how I see it or it gives them something, it is magic, and time that I spend talking with someone about it and connecting with them about the message behind it I consider sacred.

My current work is rooted in the rhythm and cycle of the seasons, and there’s a kind of sacred mantra to that repetition, a meditation to that ethos that feeds and grounds me and balances me so beautifully. That reflective and creative element in our day-to-day lives is something I feel is so important in our society where materialism and anger have grown. Life can be very unbalanced, and we all need, as humans, something other than those materialistic values: being, reflecting, creativity, and the spiritual.

I will continue to question why the word ‘sacred’ and all its possible meanings feel so important to me. But it’s compelling me to understand how and why it underpins my practice, a journey I plan to continue beyond writing this blog. I’d love to hear what your thoughts are about it, too; you can send me a message here to tell me what you think.