Tag: tea-tray drawings

Tea-tray drawings are a recurring part of my drawing practice — small, everyday observations made while I sit with my tea, usually from the familiar collection of objects gathered around me. Over time they have become a kind of visual diary, recording ordinary mornings, changing materials, and small shifts in how I look at and draw the world close at hand.

  • It does seem to help me feel better

    An open, homemade sketchbook resting on the bottom edge of a tea tray covered with a yellow cloth patterned with black and white hens. A loose black ink drawing stretches across both pages, showing a carton of Oatly oat milk, a teapot and a mug, with handwritten notes woven around the objects. On the left, the text reads, “Making drawing something the first thing I do today.” On the right, “Just make some marks! (it does seem to help me feel better).” The drawing is dated 9.11.26. Above the sketchbook are two pens, a small glowing light and part of an orange mug

    Making drawing something the first thing I do today.

    Just make some marks!

    (it does seem to help me feel better)

    An overhead photograph of a morning tea tray resting on a red, grey and cream checked duvet. The tray is covered with a mustard-yellow cloth patterned with hens and holds a carton of Oatly Barista oat milk, a lime-green teapot, an orange Stanley mug with a metal tea strainer, two pens and a small glowing light. At the front of the tray lies an open handmade sketchbook containing a loose black ink drawing of the oat milk carton, teapot and mug, surrounded by handwritten reflections about making drawing the first activity of the day and how making marks helps.
  • Drawing without glasses

    I think I’m probably overstimulated. After quite a long period of not venturing far from my bed, yesterday G drove me to see the Mary Lloyd Jones exhibition at the National Library. So many paintings, such beautiful colours — probably too much for one visit.

    I met up with a couple of dear friends who I haven’t seen in a very long time, and we sat in the café chatting after looking at the exhibition. Seeing my rather diminished self through their eyes is something new and a little unsettling.

    Tonight I’m grateful for Ounce’s company whilst I’m not sleeping, and for the familiarity of drawing my tea tray. I don’t feel able to cope with too much sharp focus just now, so I’ve taken my glasses off and am embracing the blurriness.

  • Out of sorts

    3.45 am

    The clocks have gone back an hour for the winter. This is an extra long night (but I’m reminding myself that I enjoy the cosiness of the dark mornings).

    A photograph of an open homemade pocket sketchbook resting on a larger red and white patterned sketchbook. A black ink drawing stretches across both pages, showing a teapot on the left, a tall mug in the centre and a milk jug and spoon on the right, surrounded by little hens against a blue background. Handwritten text reads: “3:45 GMT. The clocks have gone back an hour for the winter. This is an extra long night.” On the opposite page, green lettering reads “Out of sorts”, followed by “(but reminding myself that I enjoy the cosiness of the dark mornings)”. The date, 25/10/26, appears on the right. Pens and pencils lie on the blue hen-patterned tray cloth above the sketchbook, the spout of a green teapot just visible in the upper left corner.

  • Trying

    A couple of hours spent drawing in the small hours while listening to the end of The Lost Art of Letter Writing.

    Trying to find my way. Step by step. Mark by mark. Drawing by drawing. Not seeing any distance ahead. Trusting (or trying to!).