Polymorph

Existing in many forms

Forty eight years and nine months ago, a single cell carried the infinitesimal probability of me into existence. A blueprint unlike any before or since — the vessel for this peculiar consciousness.

At the same time imperceptibly and all of a sudden, my body changes, my face shifts, silver threads appear in my hair, stories gather in the wrinkles at the corners of my eyes and are etched in scars and stretch marks on my skin.

But who I am on the inside feels no different to how I felt at four, at fourteen, at forty.

The same “I” looks out from behind these eyes. I am every variation of me that has ever existed and within me lives every variation of me that will ever exist.

When I was newly initiated into the corporate world, I became enamoured of the psychometric tests that seemed to explain who I was in neat combinations of letters and coloured diagrams.

The feeling of recognition they offered and the comforting sense of being understood found me subtly morphing my behaviour towards the descriptions that aligned most closely to my corporate ambitions.

For someone who had spent a childhood feeling out of step with everyone around me, there was reassurance in discovering frameworks that appeared to make me legible. Perhaps even well suited to the world I had entered.

But beneath the certainty there was disquiet. Other versions of me that also felt true. Confusion at how I could be analytical and imaginative, logical and intuitive, structured and impulsive. As if some deeper part of me was too mercurial, too contradictory to align within binary frameworks and predictable logic.

No matter how accomplished I am, how much expertise I have, or how far my career progresses, the disquiet only deepens.

Lately, it has started to irritate me — this presumption that we are explicable, and the judgements made on the basis of one ‘personality type’ or another. As though we are fixed coordinates rather than shifting constellations.

The very dear Chloe Hope recently introduced me to the work and philosophy of the brilliant Jill Bolte Taylor.

Jill’s framework¹ is more expansive in the way it allows for complexity and contradiction within a single consciousness.

We are profoundly situational beings. Different environments, experiences and emotional states bring different aspects of us to the surface.

But the hidden parts do not cease to exist because they are temporarily submerged.

Only what is visible changes.

Analytical and imaginative, logical and intuitive, structured and impulsive.

I suspect many of us contain contradictions that make perfect sense internally and far less sense when flattened to fit labels and categories.

And I think we all feel the pressure to remain coherent and recognisable. To choose one lane. One identity. One version of self that can be easily explained to the world.

But human beings have always been more complicated than that.

Accountant and artist. Amateur and professional. Illustrator, poet, storyteller, photographer, writer.

All are true. All are me.

Polymorph.

April and May have been busy months.

Earlier in April I took my first solo trip to London in many years to attend the book launch for Fallout by Eleanor Anstruther, a book that inhabits the complicated spaces of conflict and identity.

I spent the afternoon walking through the city centre in glorious spring sunshine — Trafalgar Square, Horse Guards, St James’s Park, Westminster Abbey and Parliament Square — before meeting Chloe and David and walking together to the London Review Bookshop.

I had made a tiny copy of Fallout as a gift for Eleanor and it was a delight to finally hold the real book in my hands.

Later in April, while Mr P and the children were at Wembley for the FA Cup semi-final, I spent a solitary day exploring Corfe Castle and village.

I wandered beside the river, climbed through the ruins and followed the footpaths into the hills behind the castle while skylarks sang overhead and stonechats chattering from the bushes.

The freedom to linger in the shops, galleries and hidden corners without anybody getting bored or hurrying me along was a rare luxury.

Last week I visited the Made Winchester Craft and Design Festival at Winchester Cathedral. The cathedral is an extraordinary setting for a craft festival. Walking slowly through the stalls and cloisters, surrounded by exceptional craftsmanship, stone, wood, glass, paper, silver, felt almost meditative.

There are places where centuries seem to gather heavy in the air. Standing in the doorway of the Morley Library, the smell of parchment, leather, wood, wax and stone felt almost tangible. Looking upward into the vast vaulted nave felt like standing within the ribcage of an enormous sleeping beast.

Yesterday I bought every piece of olivewood I could find. The patterns in the grain are endlessly full of stories and possibilities and I’m not sure when I will find more. I also came home with olive wood spoons and coasters to decorate and some beautiful artificial flowers for a summer wreath.

I have finally added new pieces to Ink and Oddments², including some of my larger olivewood artworks. I would quite happily keep them here with me, and will be sorry and pleased in equal measure when they find their way to new homes.

On a practical level, I am also running out of space in the studio and saving for a new pyrography machine. Every purchase from Ink and Oddments and every new paying subscription to While I Was Drawing genuinely helps.

I love making and sharing my creative adventures with you, and I especially love the thought that some of my artwork will travel to the homes and lives of those I am connected to here by threads far stronger than the nebulous ether of algorithms and Etsy ads.

Thankfully, Julie Babis saved me from the costly discovery that I had accidentally listed a piece for 35p instead of £35. I was very happy to instead gift it to Julie as her annual subscription renews in May.

With wishes for endless inspiration,

If you would like to support this creative adventure, you can buy a handmade gift from my Etsy Shop, Ink and Oddments, or upgrade to a paying subscription.

For anyone choosing an annual subscription I would love to send you an art print from my collection, as a thank you for gifting my creativity another moment of freedom to explore and create.

1. In Whole Brain Living, neuroscientist Jill Bolte Taylor explores the idea that different aspects of our thinking, emotions and behaviour can emerge more prominently in different situations, while still existing within one whole consciousness.

2. Ink and Oddments is currently set up for UK delivery only, as international shipping through Etsy is a little tricky to manage accurately. If you are outside the UK and would like to order something, please get in touch. I can calculate the shipping cost separately and send you a payment link.