I’M SITTING with a coffee in the café at Dewsbury hospital, waiting for my mum who’s
got a routine appointment, and trying to catch up with an illustration project. I’ve
got a dozen or more medieval characters to draw including a potter.
I can picture him in my mind’s eye but getting that impression onto paper isn’t so
I feel that he’d be quite well-built because of a working life spent over a potter’s
wheel. Perhaps he’d wear some kind of cap and an apron. He’d be spattered with clay.
I guess he’d be carrying a flagon and perhaps some kind of a stick he’d use in his
work - something like an artist’s marl stick.
As I’m roughing this out in pencil a man walks who looks just like the character
I’ve been trying to conjure up. He’s walking with stick and he buys a coffee so he’s
carrying, not a flagon but a plastic cup.
I try using the colours of his outfit for my potter, but I think I might be better
going for plain unbleached linen. Red cloth was amongst the best that money could
buy in the middle ages. You wouldn’t have worn it for work.