Some History for you. Back in 1995 there was a Highland Arts festival. One of the projects was an art exhibition of art created within a set 24 hour period, as part of this there was an 'Art train' artists and musicians on the train journey from Kyle to Inverness, interpreting that journey then handing in the work at the end. The journey was great fun, a lovely atmosphere on the train. I had my three children with me, then aged 9, 7 and 2.
I did a sequential interpretation of the journey, watercolour & pens on 3 sheets of A1 paper, the landscape reading like a story as it unfolded. These later sold to a swiss couple.
My son struggled but eventually wrote this poem;
I am moaning on this train because I cannot draw,
Living in the Highlands is lonely
Living in the Highlands is Cold
On the art train a nice train driver showed me the cabin and I got to beep the horn.
The festival train what a beautiful name
Engines roar as rails click
Beautiful scenery passes all the way
So go and buy a ticket.
My eldest daughter Tal painted colourful landscapes.
Our work all got framed up and exhibited. As a result of this came a book, "People in a Landscape", which contained some of the artists and their portraits, from the angle of " the New Highlanders " The author noting that many of these artists were not indigenous highlanders. Myself included as I arrived in 1976, what about my children? they were born & bred here? does it matter ? There was an article in I think-The Times, which caused much anger as it used the expression 'white settler'.
meanwhile, my daughter Tal was chosen for inclusion in the book. portraits were taken by the very talented Craig MacKay.
There was a book launch, lots of people in suits doing speeches, I put on my best handmedown homemade patched up frock & attended with my gaggle of children. I hated it, stood in a corner like uninvited guests ignored, I'd always felt such and outsider in the arts scene. A woman with a very English accent swathed in tartan courted the press. We slunk away embarrassed & miserable, the chip on my shoulder had got bigger, I think I took the children for a treat like chips or toyshop, something lowbrow & real. Its taken me some decades to get past this outsider feeling, and its nothing to do with ability, just who you know & how you present yourself. Of course being a single mom tucked away in a remote glen with no support network didn't exactly aid inclusion for me or my children.
It all seems a million miles away now.
start the endless mucking about with the hills.
There is a fine line in crafts and art, especially crafts, ideas sort of migrate, we are influenced by the workers that we are surrounded by, the creative meme- but where do we draw the line between this and downright plagiarism? It has driven me nuts for years, I lie awake at nights working out a clever way of making a) into b), then other people turn up at the next sale selling their version of my groovy idea. This undermines my work, so I've had to keep chopping and changing to try & keep ahead of the pack. At least with 'Art' & painting its mine, distinct, they can copy all they like, good luck with that - but a glass shard mosaic, or calligraphy hanger, or book marker, or mobile, or lino prints, or collage, or hand made paper, or rag crocheting or, or , or...they're not things I can hang onto. At least I can do this, But one of my colleagues utilises a specific skill, and someone else time & time again copies the colour mixes, the designs, even selling at the exact same price. This day person 2, even took person 1's pitch. Person 1 blew a gasket, which is something rarely seen in polite 'jam and Jerusalem' crafty circles. Its just not cricket though, in a small village one should side step to not tread on other peoples businesses, not blatantly copy. I think I should employ a similarly open & honest approach next time I am copied instead of quietly seething to myself. 
