Thirty years have passed since I began my degree at Manchester Polytechnic…and graduated from Manchester Metropolitan University, the change of status being conferred at the start of my final year in 1992. My degree, History of Design (with practice), whilst enjoyable, had not filled me with ambition nor set me on a vocational path - I had little idea of where my working life was heading. A chance encounter with one of my old cohort, soon after graduation, lead to a job with a furniture maker and restorer based in Glossop, Derbyshire. I had made a replica of a Charles Rennie Mackintosh chair for my final degree show and felt completely at home in the dusty workshop with a chisel in my hand, even if the male technician expressed surprise at my aptitude and doubted my strength. This serendipitous opportunity seemed meant to be and I started work on £100 a week in a cold stone workshop with three lovely men who did not doubt my strength for a minute…once I’d shown them how strong I was.
At my bench, work in progress...and a completed piece c.2007
Looking back on nearly thirty years of making furniture I can see that I have achieved a considerable amount and created a body of work to be proud of. But I was not prolific, and I was certainly not financially successful – the support and generosity of my husband made it possible for me to continue making furniture in the way I wished. My time was also taken up with the care of our wonderful son and, no two ways about it, the lion’s share of the home keeping. As a feminist I have sometimes struggled with my role over the years, doubting the value of my contribution to the cause – begrudging every stroke of the vacuuming whilst loving the freedom of self-employment without financial pressure. I know I am fortunate but I also know how hard it can be to find the self-motivation to continue looking for work and persuading folk that a handmade piece of furniture is a good idea…and worth every penny. Regrets, though, are futile and I have decided to have none.
As I write I am in a positive state of mind (not a natural place for me) and I attribute this to my new venture. I have just begun an MSc Forestry course with Bangor University and am thrilled to discover that, at the age of 53, I am still capable of academic learning. The course is part-time distance tuition and will take 3 years, culminating in a dissertation in the final year. I could say 'I should have done this years ago' but see above….I will say that I had run out of steam in the workshop some time ago and that I was disappearing into a mire of self-doubt and confusion. Who am I?
It turns out I just needed someone to give me deadlines and tell me to read/watch/absorb/understand/discuss/consider a whole load of fascinating stuff about trees. I am under no illusions as to the task ahead but it feels liberating to be embarking on a new path in life and to feel a sense of purpose as I wake each morning – not a sinking feeling of dread as I attempt to face the day. Self-indulgent melodrama is not an attractive quality, and nobody likes to be pitied, but the bad days were bad, and they were many.
The first few weeks have been intense and fascinating. I am completely absorbed by the subject and am slowly getting to grips with the technology – MS Teams lectures, Zoom webinars, PowerPoint presentations, online essay submissions and good, old-fashioned note taking. I am time-rich and find myself keen to get started each morning, whether for scheduled commitments or my own studies. I have a pile of books waiting to be read and countless academic papers, downloaded from Google Scholar, that need my attention.
Finding the right course was a light bulb moment – logistically, I could see how it suited my life and the content is perfect. I am obsessed with trees and realised that I wished to know a great deal more about them, specifically with regard to silviculture – the science and craft of growing and nurturing forests and woodlands sustainably, and for a varied set of needs and values. My fellow learners are men and women from all over the world, young and more mature and with various levels of knowledge about forestry. The current global pandemic has meant that students who would normally be attending Bangor University campus are also having to embrace remote learning. I feel sympathy and concern for these young people who are experiencing such disruption to their lives and who do not have the luxury of the time and space that I do, sitting in my airy study in leafy Devon, my cat curled up next to me, snoring softly.
In the garden with Marley…...and a beautiful acer - one of our many trees.
The sheer volume of information that I will need to assimilate is daunting. I have never studied forestry and I am not a scientist. But I feel quietly encouraged by my ability to take in new facts and optimistic that I can retain them for future use! The human brain is a thing of great wonder and infinite complexity. Distract it with a deluge of new stuff and it seems to respond well, parking all the shit that was clogging up the synapses. If I receive a bad mark for my first assignment my newfound perkiness may be short-lived, but more fool me if I let that take the wind out of my sails. Onward and upward.
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