Seeking Sanctuary

What a troubling and often sad year 2020 has become for so many. For months now we have been confined to our homes with restrictions in place. While some have found this extremely challenging, I’ve reveled in the isolation, the need not to go anywhere except to buy food and collect /post mail. Oh, all the wonderful books and art supplies that have arrived since March and helped keep many businesses afloat!

Some of my new library collection

I’ve eagerly headed to my studio every day and one reason for this is that I’ve been part of Nicholas Wilton’s Creative Visionary Program 2020. Twelve weeks of wonderful information about design, value and color; dozens of videos and live calls from the US that saw me waking at 5am to tune in. I learned a new way of looking at my art and its importance in my life and all this within a hugely supportive artistic community.

CVP saw me step up and commit to doing the work in a way I have not experienced before. I’ve always loved creating art but I’ve found a special joy in being able to look at my work more objectively, to paint over areas, even those that seemed to be working, always mindful of Nicholas’s words about not falling in love with the artwork too soon. Having a fabulous, ever-changing view of the stunning Huon Valley from my studio and great music to listen to has added to the enjoyment. Who doesn’t feel lifted hearing people sing?

Inspiring Huon Valley views

As a collage artist, the only painting I had attempted until now was with watercolor and painting collage papers. Now I’m combining acrylic painting on panel boards with collage, layering paint and gloss medium, sanding back to create a distressed look, and adding depth with a layer of self-leveling medium before buffing the artwork with cold wax medium.

I’ve been inspired during my travels over the years by water-marked buildings in Venice, Rome’s crumbling ruins and Tuscany’s weathered walls. In Spain I’ve collected scraps of posters hanging from street posts and in India, Iran, Lebanon and Turkey I’ve spent countless hours photographing graffiti , old doors and rusted metal. it’s these I want to see reflected in my work. My love for ephemera, documents and discarded objects usually appear in my assemblages. Now I am adding another dimension to my work and it feels exciting.

I Love Lebanon collage & acrylic 12” x 12” panel

These past few months I’ve missed visiting art galleries, but compensated by completing a free online course with MoMA which opened my eyes to abstract expressionism. Probably what as been the most disappointing is not being able to travel as a European workshop and trip to Morocco were on the cards. Unfortunately both are on hold indefinitely. Still, I can’t complain. I’m part of a wonderful online community run by fabulous collage artist Melinda Tidwell. I’m also continuing with the CVP Art Academy to build on my newly acquired skills, making my creative life even richer and rewarding.

Affresco collage & acrylic on 12” x 12” panel

As well as all this, I’m educating myself through webinars and videos on social injustice, bias and inequality in the world. This past month I’ve been introduced to black and indigenous artists like Rosie Lee Tompkins & her quilts; Bisa Butler, fibre artist; Mark Bradford’s gigantic paintings; Augusta Savage’s sculptures and so many more thought provoking artists. And a plug for ‘Playing For Change’, an incredible group of global musicians and dancers featured in this video, which I hope stirs you as it does me, enough to perhaps support their efforts in their peace efforts.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3hGSqqhhokE&feature=youtu.be

Vermiglio collage, acrylic & gold leaf on 12” x 12” panel

I continue to see examples of human kindness and dedication by neighbors, front-line workers, teachers and others in the face of this global pandemic. All this gives us hope for a brighter and more equitable future.

It may be many more weeks, possibly months before we return to any semblance of normality, but when it happens I won’t be racing out to join the throngs. I’ll be content to continue working in my studio, producing fresh and exciting new art works which I look forward to sharing with you here and on Instagram.

Stay safe and well everyone. Meanwhile, I’ll keep mixing luscious colors on my palette.

BOOKED OUT

Among my many ‘how to’ books, Stephen King’s On Writing, stands head and shoulders above the rest. His no-nonsense style gets to the heart of why writing a book is demanding. But it’s what follows – getting published – that is the real challenge. Unless of course you’re Stephen King.

In 2018 I was invited to be part of the People’s Library Project. This was a great opportunity to get my latest book Fat Chance, in print. One of the benefits of participating in the People’s Library was that authors retained the publishing rights, so down the track I could republish my children’s story as a full sized edition. The question then was - who whom? I could pitch my book to a small local publisher or a major publishing house, but neither came with any guarantees. The wait could be lengthy and the book would likely be reduced in size to the standard 32-page picture story book. Also, any advance was likely to be small. Book stores return unsold books within weeks, so royalties can be non-existent unless the book has real audience appeal in terms of looks and content.

An alternative for me was to self-fund the venture. One drawback would be the upfront cost. The more books I had printed, the cheaper it would make each book, but it still amounted to a hefty investment. The profit margin selling through retail outlets is minimal, so I needed to be confident that I could sell a good number of books myself. At the end of the day it wasn’t a difficult decision to make, especially as I had Ron’s full support.

I contracted Warner Design to create a new layout. They’re local and had been involved in the People’s Library project. As well as that they were reputed to be the best in the business. Next step was to write up a formal agreement with Jenny, my book’s illustrator, and pay her for the images. Other questions needing consideration were soft vs. hard cover and local vs. overseas printers. I finally decided on a semi gloss, hard cover. I chose the latter because it would stand up better to repeated use, helping to make it a book that children would cherish. While my preference was for an Australian printer, the price proved to be way beyond my budget.

When the advance copies arrived recently I was thrilled with the results. Book stores I approached were enthusiastic and immediately placed orders. In a week’s time Fat Chance will be launched on Threatened Species Day. This is significant as the story highlights many of Tasmania’s lesser-known rare and endangered species and is a timely reminder to its audience that these are dire times for our precious wildlife. There is an engaging and positive message of hope in the story as long as we pay attention and work together to make a difference.

I’m now anxiously waiting for the full shipment to arrive in time for the launch, but I still have lots of work to do with promotion and preparing for upcoming events. Though overseas travel has been put on hold for the foreseeable future, I’m optimistic we’ll recover our investment with the first print run. Time will tell if a reprint is possible. Having a good idea doesn’t necessarily lead to a #1 best seller, unless you’re a Bryce Courtney or Richard Flannagan, but I’m optimistic that my leap of faith will have been worth it.

"Waxing On" Exhibition 2018

In September I was invited by three encaustic artists to join them for an exhibition at Cygnet’s Lovett Gallery. The wall accommodating our works was only 6 metres long, so our artworks needed to be carefully considered. I decided on one large and a couple of medium pieces and the several smaller works. Each artist had a very different style yet, despite the intimate space it all came together well.

Two of my encaustic works, including the largest piece , ‘The Long Road North’ sold. The second work made it’s way to the USA with its new owner. During the two week period, there was a steady stream of questions about the molten wax process and interest expressed in future workshops.

The ‘Waxing On’ exhibition had barely ended and I received a call inviting me to participate in the Images of Tasmania 21 exhibition. Time to take a break from encaustics and begin putting together a dozen assemblage works for December. Never a dull moment, but always fun and challenging!

Waxing & Waning

I’ve been learning a new technique in my art practice, so my blog has taken a back seat. While encaustic has been around for thousands of years, it is relatively new to me. I have a couple of books on the medium in my library but none of the images inspired me to take it up – until now. After watching a a series of you-tube videos, I decided to give it a go.

Of course this has meant buying a range of new materials and most of them don’t come cheap. I'm fortunate that we have a steady supply of wax on hand  from our beehives. Not only do we get to enjoy the delicious honey, but Ron cleans the golden wax, then it’s mine to play with.

When wax is heated with resin, a sweet, warm aroma fills my studio. I love the way it glides over the surface of my boards and the velvety texture wax acquires once it cools - first opaque, then translucent, adding an air of mystery to collaged text and images. Now that I’ve grown more comfortable with using a blow torch, I’m relishing the beautiful cells that can be created when the shellac is applied – it’s mesmorising and highly addictive.

An artist, whose work I greatly admire, has taught me that much about the joy of creativity. With this in mind, I plan to focus on developing my encaustic skills and incorporating it with other mediums.

Where I live, I’m surrounded by the beauty of nature, but it’s the macro images that I want to capture in my work. The patterns in the sandstone terrace, the rust in a garden sculpture and the textures and colours in my garden. There’s so much available for inspiration, and I feel the promise of new and exciting things ahead!

Coming Full Circle

It’s hard to believe nearly two months has passed since my solo exhibition. It was over all too soon. With the packing up and unpacking and sold works delivered, I turned my attention to completing work for the Stitching and Beyond Biennial Out of Hand exhibition.

Lightning Ridge

Most of these new works I created for this exhibition reflect the outback. I’ve always been fascinated by the textures and colours of the bush, and the detritus that leaves its mark on the landscape. Back in the days when photography was my main creative pursuit, I often travelled through the outback for work, to places like Lightning Ridge. In the early morning light, aspects of the land looked like the opals being mined underground.

Landscape & bones

Clouds of cockatoos and budgerigars would rise in their thousands like a whirlwind, sometimes causing me to stop the car to avoid hitting them when the road was covered in birds. But it was rusted metal, wire and BONES that I really loved – bleached white and contrasting against the ochres. So it’s these reminders that have been incorporated into my new artworks.

Carriage graveyard

Now the exhibition work is completed, I've revisited my art & travel photographs compiled over forty years. It's a daunting task cleaning several hundred slides and converting them to digital images, but, so far the results have been better than expected. Here are a few that have been rescued.

Ship painting

Sadly, the large cibachrome prints I had of these shots had been damaged by living in the tropics. Now I know the slides are in good condition I can reprint them and hopefully put together some books for posterity. Of course, one thing leads to another, but that's the way I like it.

Glebe back street in the eighties

As well as learning how to add effects to my photographs and incorporate these into my collage,  I’ll be trying some different techniques, including encaustic. I'm also keen to begin printing with a nifty little X-Press machine I purchased some months ago, but have been too busy to even unpack it from the box!

The Ultimate Athlete

This weekend I'm facilitating a two-day workshop, but then the decks are cleared for several weeks.  So there’s lots of experimenting and fun to look forward to.

Nikki at Botany Bay

Meanwhile, back to cleaning all those slides.

Empty Spaces

This week I say farewell to twenty-one of my artworks as they make their way to new homes. April has been a busy and extremely rewarding month. How fortunate I have been. My UnCommon Ground exhibition was a success in every sense of the word. Over the past two weeks I’ve met so many incredible artists and art lovers who connected with the works in ways I couldn’t have imagined. I feel humbled that they admired my work and were so enthusiastic.

UnCommon Ground exhibition 2017

Like the work, 'Fishing for Answers' which was bought as a gift for a husband who, with his two mates, loves to fish. Whether the trio catch fish or not, they manage to solve the world’s problems and return home feeling all the better for the experience. I’ll miss the jovial faces of the clay figures in their teabag jackets, but no doubt they'll be bringing smiles to others now.

Fishing for Answers

Print-makers, photographers, collage & assemblage artists, pastel and water-colour artists, those who work with textiles or are paper-makers have shared a love of collecting everything from beach detritus or dolls’ heads, to rusty objects and bones. One visitor returned to the gallery on the weekend to gift me a flattened dead mouse for a future artwork. We laughed at how something as simple as a mouse can be so highly prized!  What art fodder abounds!

The wall with four red dots, though bare, reminds me of the moon series that hung there only hours before. Their new owner was keen to rush home and hang them on his wall as a reflection of the beautiful moons he sees from his window on those cloudless evenings.

A review in the weekend newspaper encouraged a large number of visitors over the final two days, and it all felt a bit surreal to have so many people in the gallery at one time asking questions, taking photographs, and intently listening as I shared how some of the objects came to be included in the works. School children who visited last week brought home to me that magical feeling of discovery and allowing our imagination to just run free. I’m looking forward to doing an artist-in-residence with them in the coming weeks so together we can create more stories - based on both fact and fiction.

What's in a Name?

The power of language is so incredibly strong that it can unite or divide with a single word. The photograph above wasn't shot in Washington DC last week, but in Turkey nearly five years ago, along with the one below in Lebanon the same year. And interestingly, the feeling these words evoke in me now is very different than when I photographed them back in 2012.

I was on my way to Syria with my accomodation booked in Damascus. The war had only just begun and my host assured me that the part of the old city where Sah al Naum was located was still pretty safe. Given the political climate at the time, Ahmed was desperate to have guests and as I'd learnt much of the country's history, especially about its artwork and ancient ruins, I was excited to be going there. Sadly though, because I was unable to locate the embassy and obtain a visa, I never got to cross the border. Today, just putting the two words "Syria" and "Airbnb" together seems so incongruous.

Grafitti - Beirut 2012

As I'm writing this, the photographs evoke an overwhelming feeling of sadness, in much the same way as I felt when I made an artwork years ago that represented refugees drowning off Australian shores. The exhibition piece was titled 'Sea of Tears' - a tiny boat full of scrolls containing the names of those who died. Feathers hanging on nylon filament reflected a father's grief when he told how the children were like dead birds floating on the water. 

Sometimes during the process of creating a new artwork, naming it happens serendipitously with a phrase springing to mind; a title that expresses exactly what I want my work to say. Other times, I draw on text or an image that's been included in the piece, whether it's humorous, a little dark or carries a sad or subtle message. But occasionally nothing fits and I need to look elsewhere for inspiration. Titles for me are important as they convey a deeper understanding of the artist's intent. I always feel a sense of disappointment when a work is untitled, though I understand some artists do this intentionally. 

Annulus - Ken Unsworth 2007

Titles artists give their work can be intriguing: works like Ken Unsworth's Annulus (see above). Although open to personal interpretation, Annulus refers to the ringed shape of the work featuring river stones and a web of crossed wires, and with or without knowing what the word means, the sculpture speaks of balance and harmony.

Over the years I've taken numerous photographs of signs and graffiti and added these to my files. My love of words also sees me jotting down phrases that seem to sing, including those in other languages. Is it the words themselves, or the way they sound that is so beautiful?

Grafitti - Istanbul 2012

One of my favourite ways to name my work - if a title hasn't come to me already - is to incorporate existing text gleaned from vintage books and documents. Their beautifully aged papers often have quaint words and phrases that seem to suit my style of work. I came across an old crossword book recently with amusing titles for each of the puzzles and I've used one of these in my latest assemblage. 

Original acetylene lamp

This piece began life as a vintage brass acetylene lamp purchased from a deceased estate. It had the makings of something special and I took the lamp apart with the intention of incorporating as many surprises for viewers as possible. Firstly, the burner inside was removed to make way for an object that could be peered into behind the glass door.

I set a clock spring into a bed of epoxy with a faint image of a woman underneath, and a bird's claw and coloured stone on top. Fitting this in neatly was tricky, requiring some fine brass to be wrapped around the edge of the object so it could slip firmly into place. Text was then fixed around the rim behind the glass door.

The mock moon

The brass bowl beneath the lamp could be unscrewed, providing a cavity for a brass pocket watch case I've long treasured. Inside, I set a tiny bird skull into epoxy along with glass eyes, text and beach sand. Trying to screw the bowl back onto the lamp proved difficult, but with the aid of my trusty Dremel, the inside surface was cleaned up enabling the thread to work easily.

Pocket watch case

Rather than screw the original lid back onto the lamp, hinges were soldered in place so a bezel could be dropped in behind the clock spring. The bezel comprises of a carapace with a small crab and beach findings epoxied inside its shell. Although the shell was solid, I had a problem when the first application of epoxy leaked out of the carapace - a timely lesson in checking first how water-tight something is!

A length of corroded copper tube was flattened and curved into shape for the bezel. The next step was to drill through the shell to set pins into it in order that the carapace swivelled. When the diamond drill began smoking I thought all my work had been wasted, but with a little more persistence the required depth was achieved. A chain attached to the lamp completed the bezel.

Bezel carapace

I wanted the window in the lamp to be viewed at eye level and nothing I had seemed ideal for the job. But a brass candle stick that had originally been intended for another piece, fitted the bill perfectly. Once everything was screwed, soldered and glued together, including a small door knob for the rear, I sat the assemblage on my workbench for a few days to get a feel for whether it was truly finished. Something seemed to be missing.

A rummage in my parts collection uncovered a toy trumpet which only needed a small adjustment to make it fit. Although mounted to one side of the body, the trumpet improved the balance of the work, adding more visual interest and lending itself to the idea of howling at the moon. 

'Beware the Mock Moons' is finally completed. Perhaps it's one of the pieces that I'll be tempted to keep in my collection.....we'll see.

Beware the Mock Moons

finders keepers

Several of my Paris flea market finds have now made their way into new artworks.  Unique objects, like the ones I saw in Europe, are rare to find in Australia, but occasionally something with real potential catches my eye. One such item last week was a metal bed warmer which I’m itching to add wheels to. A couple of gorgeous old French tins, ideal as 'auto' bodies came in the mail; and a lovely aged laboratory vessel complete with funnel has arrived from the mainland. 

Vintage tins

Vintage toys often sport great metal wheels but the prices are prohibitive, and wheels on their own can cost more to be shipped than they are worth. So, I’m looking to having wheels cast, or finding a source closer to home. I've found a source of glass cabachons in different shapes and sizes, perfect for creating ‘windows’ in my assemblages. Some of these are domed and reflect text and images beautifully.

I’m working towards a solo exhibition, with a wide and varied range of assemblage and collage works. I tend to focus for a week or two working in one medium, then move to the other when I need a new focus. Sometimes a particular object can set off a raft of ideas, but other times I need to come back again and again over weeks, or even months before something truely gels. 

Found objects

I have a particular brass door plate that has been bent into shape to house a Victorian image and I'm keen to see finished. In my mind's eye I know how I'd like it to look, but the problem has been what to mount it on.  I've pored over Etsy & Ebay sites, searching for just the right object and hopefully I've now found it - a candle stick holder, the right shape and size to balance the door plate nicely. We'll see.

Lovely Russian text, cabachons & a door plate

Images on websites can be deceptive and I've learned it's important to pay attention to the size. Even then, I've sometimes been caught out when the item arrives and find it looks wrong and doesn't  do justice to the main piece. Then it goes on the shelf for something else down the track.

When Ron and I visited Rijswyk in September for the Papier Biennale, I was thrilled to find a small market taking place in the town square, and there was a similar one the next day in Delft. A delightful vendor shared stories of her father’s collection of objects d’art which she was being forced to sell to make room in their tiny apartment. I know the feeling. Paper-making equipment, instruction books and anything surplus to requirements is now finding new homes as I make room for new-old objects. 

'Lady Sarah is Pressed for Time'

I came away from the market with a pair of antique ice skates, a wooden shuttle, cute tiny leather shoes and a brass iron. The iron has a flip-up door in the back where hot coals would have been inserted. Now it sports an ossuary, made from a small sardine can that has been decorated with metal adornments from a Javanese dancer’s costume. It's become one of my favourite pieces.

I was honoured when a Belgian friend recently gifted me her father’s identity papers and wartime documents. I hope I can do these justice in my collage as they tell a very personal story. Creating artworks from my own family's documents for the Personal Histories touring exhibition in 2015 gave me great pleasure and provided a connection to my past in a very tangible way.

Personal Histories

I'm often asked how I feel about tearing pages out of vintage books or removing covers. What's not to love about the sense of history that old papers, text and images hold, but the magic for me comes in weaving a new story into them.

Most of my finds are things people sell because they’re no longer wanted, so I feel privileged to be able to bring them back to life. Otherwise, they might have ended up totally forgotten, or even worse, destroyed forever. I do have one or two books I haven't  felt able to tamper with, but in general, I’m happy to put whatever I find, whether it be documents or found objects into my work, and continue to have it live on and admired, just in a different way.

'Fishing for Answers'

Passion for Paper

Gosh time flies!

I’ve been home for three weeks now and unpacked all the wonderful holiday finds, including delicious new papers. It's been remiss of me not to write a little about my adventures, so here we go, beginning with paper . . . .

Calligraine Paper Shop, Paris

Armed with a list of Paris paper shops, beginning with Calligraine on Rue Du Pont Louis-Philippe, I rocked up at 10.00am expecting the store to be buzzing. The doors didn’t open until 12.00, so to fill in time, Ron & I walked a few blocks to the Maison de la European Photographee where we were totally blown away with an exciting exhibition by Vic Muniz, a Brazilian collage artist.

Vic Muniz's collage of Paris

Back at Calligraine, the papers beckoned. There’s nothing like the anticipation of what we might discover in a paper store, and this collection did not disappoint. Not only are there beautiful papers and woodgrain envelopes to drool over, but also wonderful objects created by Miki Nakamura, and the wafer-thin fruit and vegetable papers by Jean-Michel Letellier. Photos don’t do these exquisite papers justice.

Jean-Michel Letellier's fine fruit & vegetable papers

Many prices were high, (I'm talking seriously high), which was probably just as well, or I might have been landed with excess baggage charges. Largest of those I bought was a sheet of Amate paper from Mexico. The paper is very heavy with a cork-like texture and it required some very tricky manoeuvring to roll the two-metre long sheet into a tube.

A conversation with another customer, who hailed from the USA, revealed we had a few things in common. As well as this lady being a book artist, she had recently finished a workshop with Gemma Black from Hobart and knew Sandy Webster, whose workshops I’ve had the pleasure of attending. It’s a small world and one which, after our conversation, led me to another fabulous paper shop – Relma, at 3 Rue des Poitevins.

Contrasting papers, including a sheet of French double-marbled paper.

 Again, we arrived at the shop when it was closed - this time for lunch. I never could get my head around the business hours that varied from one shop to the next. Still, it was worth the wait. Shelves and shelves of exotic hand-marbled French papers greeted us; along with brilliantly coloured leathers for book-binding and every tool imaginable for book artists. Prices here were reasonable and it wasn’t long before I had amassed a stack of papers, with my husband looking increasingly worried about having to buy another suitcase!

A sample of the lovely papers on offer.

There are many other art shops in Paris worth a look if you you feel so inclined, including L’Art du Papier, Paperplus for stamps, boxes and stationary, Magasin Sennelier, (opened in 1887) for beautiful paints ad pastels, BHV for craft supplies, Marie Papier, and the list goes on.

Rijswijk Paper Biennale 2016

Our visit to Europe coincided with the Rijswijk Paper Biennale, so I wasn’t going to miss this international exhibition if I could help it. In between our travels in Spain and Belgium, Ron and I hired a car and drove to the charming Dutch town near Delft. Three days were spent exploring the area, but my first stop was of course the Museum Rijswijk, once the home of poet Hendrik Tollens back in 1790.

Rijswijk Paper Biennale 2016

The only Australian artist in the exhibition was Tracy Luff, whose tree-like structures reminded me of primeval forests. This year’s emphasis was on large installations and although Tracy’s work was made solely of small corrugated cardboard circles; dramatic and beautiful in their simplicity.

Tracy Luff's work, Rijswijk Biennale 2016

The delicate paper flower arranging of Anne ten Donkelaar, and Yoko Kataoka’s gorgeous ‘Stream of Life’, left us spellbound, as did many other pieces. There was a strong focus on perspective throughout the exhibition, and something that impressed me, was how modern art worked so well set amongst objects from another era. You can see the seventeen artists’ work for yourself and the construction in two short videos at www.museumrijswijk.nl

Anne ten Donkelaar's paper flowers

After immersing ourselves in this wonderful exhibition we made our way to the Museum’s paper shop – where else? Here I bought several lovely papers at very reasonable prices. A paper market is held outdoors the week before the exhibition ends, but unfortunately I would be home by then. I could see Ron sigh with relief, but that was before we visited Delft the next day and discovered a wonderful little antique market full of assemblage goodies. How I carried home a pair of vintage ice skates and a brass iron I’ll never know!

But that’s for another blog dear friends. Now back to stroking my paper and imaging just how I’ll use it in my artworks.

Flea Markets - From Puces to Rastros

There's some great finds to be had in Madrid’s El Rastro flea market, but they're not immediately obvious to the newcomer. When I saw stalls selling the usual market wares, predominantly clothing and faux designer bags lining the street leading down to Plaza de Cascorra, I was doubtful I was going to find anything worthwhile. That is, until we spied the side streets. To my delight these cobbled laneways contained the treasures I had come in search of.

Spread out on the ground and stacked in doorways of antique shops were all manner of interesting objects d’art. Antique books, locks, irons and large ornate picture frames were everywhere. A wonderful old Underwood typewriter and several book presses caught my eye. Sadly, there was no way any of these items could fit in my luggage. Several beautifully worn shoe lasts that were going for a song would have, until I remembered the restrictions on bringing wood into Australia, so reluctantly I had to leave them behind.

A beautiful penned manuscript at a hundred euros may have been out of my price range, but when I picked up a bundle of engravings and the seller said "Twenty euros," my heart skipped a beat. I offered fifteen and he replied that if I bought several he'd drop the price to fifteen EACH!! He and I obviously weren't on the same page. 

I loved listening to vendors and buyers haggling over the ‘precios’. Just hearing the local language no matter where one is, makes the whole experience more enjoyable. Bargaining is expected and when one or two vendors dropped the price from twenty euros to ten immediately I began walking away, I was suspicious as to whether the item was the real deal. But at the end of the day it didn’t matter. I’ve learned from experience that there is nothing worse than regretting not buying something when you get the opportunity - you're likely to never see it again.

After three hours I came away with a few treasures, including a tiny silver mesh purse, some large keys, rubber ink stamps, chandelier faceted glass, and an 1840 French book. It’s heavy but the cover and end papers and text are divine.

Arriving early at the market was definitely the way to go, because by lunchtime when the crowds had swelled and the sun was high we'd had enough. While locals sipped their beer and ate tapas we opted for an expresso before returning to our apartment to drool over our finds.

Next weekend we’ll be in Granada for more bargain hunting; with Valencia, Barcelona and then Paris to follow. Give me a flea market over a designer shoe store any day!