As I write, the waves are rolling onto an inlet beach, the sun reflecting onto thousands of flecks of silver. Every two minutes the view changes as the tide ventures in, clouds change form, the light angles in new ways. I’m still working – that bit always seems a constant – but doing it with a new view. It makes a difference.
Cornwall means three things to me: wild landscape, art and food. Food bingo to be precise.
But first, the art. We visited the Barbara Hepworth Museum yesterday in St Ives, her studio and garden left pretty much as it was when she died in the 1970s. This woman raised four children (including triplets) whilst creating a new language in sculpture. The official Tate biography doesn’t give any insight into how on earth that was managed. How did she have the space, the mental space, to work? A mystery. Official keepers of art, in my experience, love talking about language and form but rarely give an insight into the personal, the everyday life lived. For years this side of things was written off as ‘domestic’ and ‘female’. But how can you truly understand someone’s work without getting under the skin of their daily domestic experience?
Despite not being an artist I’ve always longed for a studio. A place to read and think and create. And where better to have one than in southern Cornwall, enclosed by this wild and Pagan landscape and the feeling of being somewhere slightly ‘other’.
Plus there is no chance of ever going hungry here. And so we move to food bingo. Currently there are ten things to tick off:
2. Cream tea
3. Ice cream
7. Crab / seafood
8. Fish and chips
9. Pork wrapped in pastry (that’s Matt’s not mine)
Thus far we’ve crossed off pasty, chips, cream tea, beer. Though I cheated on my pasty and had a – gasp – vegetarian one. Made with ricotta. Outrageous (I couldn’t fault it though).
Cornwall Food Bingo is a long upward struggle. I am at a disadvantage, my capacity for eating at a seriously lower level than Matt’s. But I’ll give it a go. Four down, six to go.