I expect it's a major irritant for residents, but although Bath gets pretty crowded with visitors in the summer, it also gets something of a buzz going.  It's not so much the tourist crocodiles or clusters, chattering away in any one of a dozen languages or listening to a local guide, it's more the people who turn up to entertain them - the pavement artists, the jugglers, and especially the vast range of musicians.  Sax, hippy guitar, a short but powerful burst of opera, trumpet.  I wander down the middle of the city, passing through little musical zones - normally the overlap between them is pretty limited, but perhaps it's no fun to work in a shop on those borderlands.

Art.  Two galleries again, but this time Quercus and Bath Contemporary Art.  I sought out Quercus because I had seen that Katherine Jones was exhibiting (sorry, it's finished now), and her prints are always enjoyable.  They were again, and although I haven't gathered enough courage yet to ask in small private galleries if they'll let me take pictures, I'm much braver asking artists by email, and they're usually happy to accommodate my requests.  Katherine was, so I'm not reduced to presenting a bald list of titles. 

It's hard to remember, now, that once long ago I was disappointed by Katherine's prints 'in the flesh' - now I'm as hooked as the rest of the world.  Here were three favourites from the show.

Discovering Sandra Porter's collection of prints of bothans at the exhibition was a bonus.  I particularly liked her larger prints, quite mesmeric, and the two below were just great.  Again, Sandra was happy to let me use her images here.  Both of the artists use collagraph in their work - it's such a great technique, it just does so much!

And finally this poor little butterfly, lying in the stairwell.  I found no problem asking to snap this - it's not somebody's art work, for sale - and discovered that it was the last remnant of the previous gallery at that address, when there were many illustrations about the place.  Fun.

 
Bath Contemporary Art was more of a chance thing.  I had the intention of visiting the David Simon Gallery, which was showing seascapes that looked good (thanks again, twitter), but alas there I was on wednesday morning and it wasn't going to open till 2pm.  So I abandoned that plan, and happened up across the road from Bath Contemporary.  It's a gallery I often do walk past, but I've always thought of it as a little imposing and have never felt quite like venturing beyond the door.  Last time I was there, however, it was after closing time, with an amazing head in the window and more sculptures further in. 

There's the artist on the window, Rick Kirby, so back then it was obviously his show.  This time, his work was still there though I think the original show had finished.  That head is utterly amazing from outside, but once I had tentatively followed a couple of people inside (safety in numbers?  Who knows what goes on inside my head - certainly not me!) I discovered it was somehow even more brilliant.  There's obviously no back to the head, you can see that in the photo, but there's also no other side.  It's just a quarter of a head, four building blocks that stack up slightly askew.  Loved it!  But I'd need a proper warehouse flat, wouldn't I, or at the very least a major clear-out at home .  Anyway, the rest of the gallery had quite a few more pieces of his work and plenty of good stuff on the walls and in the browsers too.  My only minor quibble was that ceramic pieces were unlabelled.  Apparently the reason was that the labels would be too big, detract from the work, and I see the logic but I disagree.  Not to label them by maker makes them appear less important, and that seems unfair to me.  Anyway, gorgeous space, beautiful skylight further back (I'm not sure if there's a proper term, it's like a mini glass house sticking up from ceiling level), typical of many Bath shops and galleries, and now I've made it through the door once, I'll go again. 

So way back when, I signed up for a weekend of Japanese bookbinding and box making with Lucy May Schofield at Hot Bed Press, and this last weekend it arrived.  Lucy was fresh from Japan, where she currently lives, and back in Britain for a series of workshops, residencies, talks and the like - we were the first lucky few to benefit from her visit (and her green tea biscuits). 

We had a fantastic time, making four little books with Japanese stab stitch bindings - I've tried this before, with Elizabeth Willow, and enjoyed it immensely; the bindings look great and are relatively simple to create.  This time we added fiddly but (and I might have been alone in thinking this, they were something of a faff to deal with) ultimately very satisfying corners to the books, and the covers had neatly folded tiny TINY edges (my patience didn't stretch that far!  I cheated and stuck most of mine - it was either that or scream, tear everything up and throw the pieces into the air).

But the wraparound box was the thing of true beauty, and I was in love from the moment Lucy handed around an example on the Saturday morning.  In fact overall it wasn't dreadfully complicated either, and I would be happy to make another one.  Soon, before it becomes more complex in my memory.  Much of it is about being reasonably precise (so I should probably get past the occasional problem I have where I think I'm joining up two points to finish off a square or a rectangle, yet somehow I end up with something more akin to a potting shed) and - when I'm in the zone - that's not really a problem.  Lucy had brought us a selection of japanese papers for the covers, and pieces of kimono fabric for the boxes - all very vibrant, and a picture of everyone's work at the end would have been a riot of colour, but you'll just have to make do with mine.