Journal

Finding Time to Make: What Barbara Hepworth Taught Me

About 15 years ago, we rented an Airbnb in Hampstead. It was a small place—just one room, really—but with a tiny garden out front. Even for a few days in London, I need a bit of green.

It sat at the end of a narrow pedestrian path, a row of small, light-filled cottages originally built as artist studios. As we were handed the keys, the owner said, “Lots of artists lived here in the 1930s.”

Later, I looked it up. We were staying in Number 7. It turned out to be the former home of Barbara Hepworth. Not just any artist—but one of the few internationally recognised women artists of her generation. A quiet kind of extraordinary.

Her life in that cottage was intense. She had a young son, an unconventional relationship, and then unexpectedly gave birth to triplets. Four children under five. A partner drifting between two homes. A coal-hole-turned-sculpture studio. It’s no surprise she fell into postnatal depression.

But her friends helped. The babies were cared for. She recovered. And her work continued. What struck me most was not just that she kept working—but how she worked.

She didn’t speak of domestic life as something that competed with creativity. For her, they were interwoven. Interdependent. And she believed that being creative every single day—no matter how small—was essential.

A sketch before bed. Arranging pebbles on the windowsill. Picking flowers from the garden.

It didn’t need to be grand. Or finished. Or public. It just needed to happen.

That changed how I thought about creativity. I’d always believed it only counted if it could be shared, exhibited, or sold. But what if it’s simply a thread that runs through the day?

Now I always have something small and steady on the go. At the moment, it’s a needlepoint cushion stitched with naturally dyed threads from The Studio. Each square takes about five minutes. Sometimes I do one. Sometimes three. But I keep the thread moving.

This rhythm—the quiet persistence of daily making—is what I want to share. Not a system. Not a productivity hack. Just space to remember what creativity feels like, even in the middle of life.

On Thursday 12 June at 11am (UK time), I’m hosting a free one-hour masterclass called About Time. It’s for anyone who wants to return to their creative self—gently, without pressure.

You can sign up here → 

There will be a replay for all who register.

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