Social Media Soup

08/10/2026
The House, The Studio and The Gallery
It's raining today.
I awoke to one of those days where the world seemed to slow down from the get go a little and  time allows for thoughts to wander off in sometimes unexpected directions, "Where did that spider come from?"' What was the price of coal in 1967"' "Why I am I getting lost on Social Media?
"A problem remains a problem until its addressed, so sort it", "
 My brain has felt slightly overloaded recently, with too many things competing for attention, but sometimes it's on days like this that a simple thought suddenly makes sense.
This morning I found myself thinking about Facebook. Not in a technical sense, but in terms of how I use it and how all the different parts of my life seem to have become tangled together online.
I was trying to understand the difference between my personal profile, Studio 8 and an artist page.
Then a very simple picture formed in my mind.
Andrew's House is my personal profile.
Studio 8 is where the work is made.
The Gallery is where the finished work is shown.
As soon as I looked at it that way, it felt obvious.
The house is where I live. It's where the cats appear. It's where the coffee gets drunk. It's where the everyday conversations, observations, frustrations and small victories happen. It's the place where people get to know me as a person.
The studio is different.
The studio is where ideas arrive, usually uninvited. It's where experiments live. It's where projects start with excitement and sometimes end in complete failure. It's where I think, make, test, explore and occasionally disappear down creative rabbit holes for hours at a time.
Then there's the gallery.
The gallery isn't really about me.
It's about the work.
It's the place where a finished piece stands on its own and people can simply experience it without needing to know what was happening in my life when I made it.
The funny thing is that, in reality, these three places already exist.
They always have.
The problem is that I've been trying to squeeze them all into the same online room.
Someone comes to see the artwork and finds cat stories.
Someone arrives for the creative process and finds reflections about life.
Someone wants to keep in touch with me and ends up looking at abstract paintings.
To me, it all feels perfectly normal because that's exactly how my life works. The art, the thinking, the living and the everyday moments all overlap.
But I'm beginning to realise that just because they overlap in my life doesn't mean they have to overlap in quite the same way online.
What struck me today is that I'm not really trying to create anything new.
I'm simply recognising what already exists.
The house.
The studio.
The gallery.
Three separate compartments that have gradually become crowded together under the same roof.
For years I've lived in the house, worked in the studio and exhibited in the gallery all at the same time, through the same door.
Perhaps that was fine when everything was smaller.
Perhaps it isn't now.
This isn't a decision or a plan.
It's simply an observation.
A quiet one on a rainy day.
And sometimes recognising the shape of a problem is the first real step towards solving it.

Popular posts from this blog

A Quiet Return It’s been a few years since anything new appeared on this blog. No dramatic exit, no crisis, no grand story — just life unfolding in its own quiet way while I wandered off into a long stretch of creative exploration. I didn’t spend that time chasing expectations or trying to produce anything impressive. In fact, it was the opposite. I let myself make things without pressure, without anticipation, and without any need for an audience. It was a good kind of absence — the sort that gives you space to breathe and rediscover what you enjoy. Along the way, painting slipped out of my hands. Not abandoned in frustration, just… released. It had carried me through many chapters, but eventually it felt like a language I’d said enough in. So I turned to sculpture, almost by accident, and found myself on a long, meandering tour through every material within reach. Papier‑mâché came first — messy, forgiving, and strangely liberating.Foam followed, stubborn but full of possibility.Cardboard had its moment too, proving far more architectural than I expected. Each material taught me something different about form, weight, and patience. And then, gradually, I settled into polymer clay. It felt right — structured but flexible, expressive without demanding perfection. It opened a new path, and with it came another journey: exploring genre, tone, and character in ways paint never quite allowed. So yes, I’ve been away. But not idle.Just quietly occupied in the kind of creative work that doesn’t need announcing. Now the blog returns — not as a relaunch, not as a promise, but simply as a continuation. A place to share what I’ve been shaping, learning, and enjoying along the way. If you’ve found your way back here too, welcome. Let’s see where this next chapter leads.

  A Quiet Return It’s been a few years since anything new appeared on this blog. No dramatic exit, no crisis, no grand story — just life unfolding in its own quiet way while I wandered off into a long stretch of creative exploration. I didn’t spend that time chasing expectations or trying to produce anything impressive. In fact, it was the opposite. I let myself make things without pressure, without anticipation, and without any need for an audience. It was a good kind of absence — the sort that gives you space to breathe and rediscover what you enjoy. Along the way, painting slipped out of my hands. Not abandoned in frustration, just… released. It had carried me through many chapters, but eventually it felt like a language I’d said enough in. So I turned to sculpture, almost by accident, and found myself on a long, meandering tour through every material within reach. Papier‑mâché came first — messy, forgiving, and strangely liberating. Foam followed, stubborn but full of possibili...
Read more

Polymer Clay 01

Image
While searching through the archives I uncovered this snippet from 2016/17. The occasion near my discovery of polymer clay. After two years of watching tutorials, trawling websites, reading fact sheets, gathering tools and materials, and generally soaking up everything I could find about polymer clay, I've finally reached the point where I have a dedicated workspace set up. Which means the real learning can begin. Up until now it's all been preparation. Now I get to make my own mistakes, discover my own solutions, and work my way along a learning curve that, at the moment, doesn't seem to have an end. Over those two years I've come across some incredible artists, particularly those working in jewellery and biomorphic design. One artist who has consistently kept me inspired is Melanie West. Her work has captivated me from the beginning and continues to do so. The incredible work of Melanie West One of the things that immediately drew me to polyme...
Read more

grounding

Image
since 10 March I have been in my own little world, pondering and pottering while the world and its mother, passed me by. I have little need at this moment in time to move at the same pace as everyone else, and, while youngsters on their bikes, supported with stabilisers, and by animals with far less purpose than even I at the moment, I have reorganised my life, sorted out the wheat from the chaff as it were and broken my workload down to a point where I am able to move forward, both as a person and as an artist. My current fixed projects are as varied as they are separated by simple geography, the Glass House restoration and the Film company, Dog Tag Media both based in Scotland and my Autumn Show here in Kendal. My recent contact with Melvyn Bragg is now at an end though not without my realising that there really was no connection between us sufficient as to reap the full benefits of being in contact with such a genuine person, the lack of contact simply of my own making and borne of ...
Read more