Since I was a child, I have loved horses. My best friend growing up was fortunate enough to go to riding lessons and, on occasion, her family were kind enough to take me along to help out at the stable. My parents couldn’t afford for me to get lessons, so I loved any opportunity to be around horses and jumped at the chance.

I haven’t been near a stables for many decades, but to this day the smell of Oolong tea takes me straight back to the tack room, and I still remember the taste of the beef flavoured Pot Noodle I had for lunch. At that time, even a Pot Noodle was a huge treat to me, so everything about those days is seared into my memory. The rhythm of horses’ hooves on roads and fields as they walked, trotted and ran still beats in my mind.

Recently I’ve found myself thinking about why horses have always held such a special place in my heart. Discovering that I have a branch of family who were hand loom weavers in Lanarkshire made me think about the landscape they lived in, the work they did, and the animals that shaped everyday life. Clydesdale horses would have been a familiar presence, woven into the fabric of everyday life. Thinking about them inevitably led me to the Shire horses of the county where I grew up. I was very unwell for a time as a teenager. I remember my grandmother and her husband taking me out for the day to give my mum a rest and also hoping to cheer me up. It was such an incredible day – we even went to a glassblowing workshop on the way home and I was amazed by the skill and beauty of that now increasingly rare craft.

I am drawn to these memories now is that, not long ago, I learned that the mother of my childhood best friend had passed away—a woman I adored and thought of as an aunt when I was young. Around the same time, my grandmother also passed away. As sad as these moments are, it is wonderful to have such precious memories from my time with those women in my life, and even though they are now gone, those memories will continue with me throughout my life.

It led me to think about what it is we pass on to those who come next. Looking back, I can see those experiences finding their way into my work. The strength and quiet dignity of heavy horses have become an important source of visual inspiration as I develop Wild Lea, and I suspect the memory of watching molten glass take shape will eventually do the same.

Whether we realise it or not, every generation leaves something for the next to discover.

Unseen Gifts

The people who shape us often do so without ever realising it. We, in turn, rarely know which moments another person will carry with them. Time spent together, a small act of kindness, or an experience shared can quietly become part of another person’s story. Those moments continue to live on, carried forward in ways we may never be aware of.