Had a great day on Saturday with twelve keen feltmakers on the Freaky Vessels workshop. Everyone had their own ideas and we spent the day hard at work realising those designs. Everyone had a successful but tiring day. I took photos but unfortunately that's not one of my best skills and some didn't quite capture the lovely feltwork. Here a few to give you an idea of what was created.
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I will have a stand with Jackie Lunn on Sunday 14th November at the Tithe Barn Nether Poppleton near York. Cant believe another year has flown by since I was last there. If you are passing, pop in and say hello, its free entrance and the cakes are gorgeous!
The overall colour memory is pinkish, flaky weathered plaster walls. 
Warm red rust decor contrasting with brasses and metals. Studded elaborate doors.
Surprising interiors to simple exteriors. Cafe Arabe, a favourite place to eat on the rooftop with welcome cooling water sprays overhead.
The Square where we could co ordinate our routes to and from. Pink and low rise.
The city walls weathered with time, the holes which I thought were battlescars are in fact drilled for scafolding to repair when required.
The Mosque towering above the City. Planning rules do exist, nothing is to be higher than the tower of the Mosque.
Beautiful balconies hang from the buildings.
Cafe Arabes welcoming lanterns.
The palace corridor. White and pure, simple tiled flooring.
Everyday shopping for food deep in he Souk.
Jardin Marjorelles, an Oasis midst the hustle and bustle of the city.
I have finally got round to sorting my photos into some sort of order, these are some fibre and craft goodies. We visited the Dyers Souk and took some colourful pictures. I did attempt to buy some dyed wool in a small quantity(it smelt very unusual) but the young man was determined to sell me a large quantity for lots of money. As I walked away he shouted "you very bad tourist" and moved onto the next curious passer by. It somehow wasn't intimidating though as bartering appears to be one big game in their daily life.
he gave various little impromptu demonstrations of his magic dye that changed colour on contact. His hands were a very interesting shade.
These were just some of the many felt hats we saw. These in particular were well made and attractively coloured. A lot we saw in the Souks was a little less so.
The feltmakers at the Artisan Centre were all men and they sat crouched all day on stools at low tables in barefeet, rubbing with soap bars on the wool. I asked about the wool and was told it came from the mountains, it was fairly coarse and even when well felted there was a hairy finish to the surface. After a short chat in my poor french and mixed english, he handed me his business card.
Driving to the Atlas Mountains for a short trek we stopped at a pottery and tred carefully between the biggest collection I have ever seen.The footpath was broken pottery shards.
This was their kiln ready and waiting to fire. There were 2 kilns, a traditional and a gas kiln. Apparently they supplied a lot of the market stalls in the Souks, the pots were not for sale to us, sadly.
I asked to take all photos of people we met, not everyone agreed, some were happy to. We respected that, so on the occasion we did a couple was all we felt we could take. These 3 men were warping a loom , the warping threads were extremly taught and yet most of their euipment was very homemade. There was a cycle wheel spinning wheel next to the loom.
In the mountains we came across men carving alabaster sat cross legged on the floor outdoors, but under a canopy, it was scorching hot. My son bought a camel, after a long , long, barter. I bought a bangle which was quite clearly yellow resin, very pretty, and I was very happy with it, but he insisted I had bought a beautiful Amber bracelet...
My next group of pictures is the beautiful architecture and interiors. It will probably take me another month to get round to it. Even though photos are digital and instant, organising takes me as long as it used to take me to stick photos in a holiday album! (truth be told, some old photos are still waiting to go in an album.)
We stopped at the door and recognised the name on the brass plate which was highly polished in the dismal surroundings. I was thinking about where we were and what were we doing in this shady alley, what was behind the door? It was all booked over the internet, how trusting, but I think we all are in this evershrinking world of the web.
The door was opened and we were greeted by Fatima in her Jellabah looking so elegant and I breathed a sigh of relief as I started to take in our surroundings, it was breathtaking. Just as I always imagined a Riad to be.
We sat in the courtyard and drank mint tea, ate maccaroons with almonds and read trendy guides on Hip Marrakech. Music played in the background and rose petals adorned every surface.
The fabrics were gorgeous, yards and yards draped, flowing and wispy.
There were two courtyards with balconies around and rooms off the balcony through carved doorways. Steps in our suite led up to a tiled bathroom and sunken bath.
The bedroom was curtained and quite magical. Beautiful woven rugs on the floors and walls.
Our son had a second room within all to himself and there was a sitting area with a chess board, bowls of exotic nuts and dried fruit and fresh oranges daily. It was truly unlike anywhere I had ever visited before. Softly in the background we could hear the call to prayer. This was a magical way to celebrate.
I was extra happy to have a piece of feltwork accepted in this years Open Exhibition at Malton Milton Rooms. When we visited it was market day and couldnt resist a picture of the sheep. Mixed emotions though as to their destiny, but I told myself they were on their way to a lovely green field. The exhibition was bursting, unfortunately no photos allowed. So here is the venue! There is a huge creative community in Ryedale, the selection and variety was broad ranging. Certainly something for everyone.
I think possibly the problem is me!
