The blessing of a lace practice rooted in landscape is that my habit of daily observation and record are quickly embedding me into a new location.

Our new family home further up the Avon Valley in Dorset, England, is returning me to a pathway I started to explore before the pandemic, abandoned while I switched focus, but am glad to renew.

The work that instead became my solace during lockdown, a 3.35 metres installation drawing attention to the carbon we are adding to the atmosphere, formed part of The Adventurous Lacemakers’ exhibition at the World Lace Festival in Slovakia in 2024. I just had to wait three years to hang it.

Lace is where I am at my most content, especially working at scale. Having enjoyed designing and producing Carbon Cloud over a two-year period, I felt no qualms about progressing to another equally challenging project based around phenology, the timing of bud-break in Spring. The decision to move home just got in my way.

Exchanging coast for forest, and marsh for heathland, allow me once more to follow patterns of habitation left over millennia towards family roots near Salisbury. While setting up my new studio I have also been saying goodbye to my old home with an experimental marsh-scape in which rolling clouds play as much a part as the waterlogged land.

Revival of former plans comes unexpected but welcome. As I pick up the threads that bind me to my fascination with land, sky and water, unpack my equipment, unbox my linens, dig out the books I bought to explain this landscape and locate the patterns designed ready for the next piece, my life braids anew across my lace pillow.