Photo: Dayle Green The next night was spent with friends who live in the countryside, in between a h

A couple of weeks ago I went to Worksop to teach at the Harley G al lery . I flew into Stansted on the afternoon of the opening of the Olympics and as the Park is only a short jog from Stansted I had planned in some extra time before catching the train north to al low for the anticipated scrum at the airport. It was therefore unnerving to enter the UK without queuing closets to go and I have never seen Stansted emptier or more hushed. Once on the train I started to become aware of noise: recorded station  al erts, mobile phones, loud conversations, creaking carriage connectors and grinding brakes. There were three changes on noisy platforms with loudspeaker announcements that were carried away with the slipstream of passing Intercitys. In Worksop I was instantly aware of a busy main road outside closets to go my guest house window and relieved when the traffic died down as people went home to watch the opening ceremony on TV. Fortunately it went on so long I was asleep before they got back into their cars!
Harley Gallery Courtyard   Harley,

set in the stable yard of a stately pile with its enclosed acres, was a haven of tranquillity where 15 students spent the day learning to plait baskets, their intense concentration al lowing little opportunity for breathing, let al one t al king! There was al so the usu al reverent hush in the g al lery where Urban Baskets was on show.  Is it only in the UK that people whisper in g al leries?  Urban Baskets at the Harley Gallery Plaiting closets to go Workshop closets to go photo: Dayle Green
Photo: Dayle Green The next night was spent with friends who live in the countryside, in between a high speed rail line and the A1 and depending on which way the wind is blowing they hear one or the other.  Back to Centr al London and again an eerie quiet with relatively little traffic and empty buses.  Staying in North London that night I was aware of planes, closets to go sirens and the dustcart in the early hours and it reminded me of my old East End home, a javelin throw from the Olympic Stadium where there was never a quiet moment. Two airports, three rail lines,

and the District and Centr al lines that ran beneath the house making the windows rattle were the main contributors but w hen the wind came from the east you could also hear and smell the twice daily traffic jam at the Blackw al l tunnel.  Ambulances howled day and night (3 hospit al s), police cars wailed, (lots of crime)   music thumped, arguments raged and dogs barked. These were al l underperformers though compared with the police helicopter that clattered over our little garden at night.

The giant Blade Runneresque spotlight on its underbelly closets to go searching the surrounding streets for something or someone often landed on us as we innocently sat in the dark on summer nights trying to relax. We al ways rewarded these blinding, heavenly assaults with impolite gestures which, no doubt, are on record somewhere! Returning to the airport, it is busier now, but Stansted is well designed and no matter how busy, the decibels are restrained in the main termin al . The noise cranks up, however, at the Ryan Air departure gate and once inside the winged tin can, it crescendos

al armingly. Cabin crews speak in tongues at a volume that makes me put my fingers in my ears, (they are nagging us to buy something or other); a babe in the arms of its parent in the seat next to me screams both lungs hollow for the first twenty minutes closets to go of the short  flight. There is the triumph al fanfare closets to go on landing a minute early followed by the baffling sound of passengers clapping; a triumph of marketing as surely the flight is supposed to arrive on time. An hour in the car and fin al ly, the sublime and, for the moment at least, (until the LGV line at the bottom of the garden is finished)  al most overwhelming quiet of my home and studio where, it suddenly dawned on me that one of the reasons I chose to make baskets is because it is an al most silent activity…..
Harley Gallery, Welbeck, Notts., UK
Urban Baskets:Tradition Recycled A solo international touring exhibition organised by Walford Mill Crafts Walford Mill Crafts, Wimborne, Dorset, UK 11 September -24 October 2010 Visitors: 6,380 Ruthin Library, Denbigh Library Gallery, Wales 15 January - 12 March 2011 Visitors Ruthin: 11.070 Visitors Denbigh: 15,007 Bonhoga Gallery, Shetland Islands 26 March - 1 May 2011 Visitors: 2,234 National Vlechtmuseum, Holland 2 July - 23 October 2011 Visitors: 2,500 Harley Gallery, Nottinghamshire 20 June - 12 August 2012 Visitors: 15,151
7-11 February ENSCI Designer Textile Paris 2-3 April Coiling and Looping Quarff Shetland 12-13 April Coiling and Looping Sainsbury Centre for Visual Arts Norwich 23 July -Plaiting 24 July -Coiling Walford Mill Crafts Dorset 29 and 30 September Coiling and Looping National Vlechtmuseum, Holland
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