Sam Toft Originals

It isn’t always easy, is it?

I’ve always admired the easy breeziness of greengrocers. And I know no-one is without their troubles but some people manage to rise above it all and bring a little unlooked for happiness into people’s lives whatever’s going on in their own. Market traders, corner shop owners, delivery staff, they seem to have this straightforward way of serving with a smile and moving on. I remember getting to know a restaurant owner in Greece one year and feeling bold enough to ask how he kept his sparkle even at the end of a long day. After a moment’s thought he said maybe he had been lucky enough to be born with a sunny disposition? In fact he knew of no other way to be and was delighted to find himself the right occupation suiting his natural abilities. But wouldn’t it be nice to be able to do MORE than the thing we were born to do? Is that even possible?

It’s the right weather isn’t it?

It’s something someone said to me n Betty as we were walking across the golf course up at Hollingbury on a sunny day recently.

Truth is, I DON’T like it too hot personally, but I LOVE that it makes so many people happy and chatty. For me a sunny day always seems like an extra thing to do. I know I should get out and enjoy myself, but a colder day just let’s me BE… And then I got to thinking, he’s right that man on the golf course. It’s actually always the right weather! When the sun is too warm it’s a welcome reminder for me to be resourceful. When nothing is uncomfortable, there is no incentive to change.

I must admit I’m a little scared of horses. Because I don’t understand them and they are so big. And generally I’m a little afraid of children because I don’t understand them and they’re so little. To me dogs have always seemed more straightforward. But back to this bag eating horse.

A couple of weeks ago on one of my intrepid weekend walks, I found myself needing to cross a field where there were three horses. It was a public footpath and I put my dogs on their leads, but when I looked up I noticed they’d already started ambling towards us. They looked friendly enough but very big, and it soon became obvious they would reach us before we got to the stile. Instead of running (which my brain was screaming at me to do) I slowed right down and worked on calming the dogs and myself. I had no apples or carrots. Eeek.

Hallo lovelies,

It’s nearly May already!

Such a lovely month for a holiday I always think. It feels fresh, not too warm and still the opportunity to be wearing hats and scarves. Which will always be my favourite attire. But if you haven’t got it together to book that little trip you’ve been dreaming about, I hope you’ll be joining me and Team Mustard at our Afternoon Tea Event Sunday 15th May.

For me May is all about the different yellows. There are still daffodils in the supermarkets although the woods are full of bluebells, and I do so love a cut flower. The ranunculus are splendid at this time of year too and I always keep mine until way past their best. After all their blazing colours I can’t bear to throw them away. And every time I think I must have had the last, I find another bunch of yellow tulips to display in my old silver-glass vase. And whenever I can, I feel I must have a sprig of yellow freesia for by my bed, so if I wake up in the night wondering where I am (it’s a thing!) I am calmed by their peppery scent: my Grandad’s favourite. The yellow calla lily I’m keeping inside as long as I can. And when it goes outside I think I’ll do a big display of fat lemons instead.

Since I’ve been here I’ve lost two hats. And one dog.

I found the dog.

And upsetting though it is to mislay my very favourite berets, this heartache is truly tiny in comparison with the temporary loss of my dear old Stan. The Theory of Relativity in action. But I’m hoping that the next time my (snackhungry and selectively deaf) little Doodle Dog decides to do a bit of sneaky unaccompanied sandwich surfing I’ll choose to poke myself in the eye to help me feel Relatively better, rather than rushing hither and thither discarding fistfuls of head gear with such high sentimental value. My poor heart aches at the thought of the handmade velvet one with the satin lining and a blob of white paint on the back… And the burgundy striped knitted one with a tiny turquoise stalk going a bit bobbly with age… Is it so wrong to miss them so much?

It was so sad to make the final visit to my shop. All those memories like ghosts lurking beneath the layers of paint. It was my dream and I did it. I should be proud of that. But I could not bear to close it up myself… I am ever so grateful to Amber who organised it all. And with her help we are creating a Little Mustard Club to take flight in March. It could be exciting …

I’ve just finished reading The Thursday Murder Club by Richard Osman and I feel much better thank you. It was an easy and compelling read, which is good as I don’t have the hugest concentration span. I found it inspiring, grounding and comforting at a time when I’ve felt lost and adrift. And I was delighted to find that there were so many extra gifts in the acknowledgements, where the writer shares how hard it is to write a novel and how many people helped him knowingly or unknowingly along the way. I absolutely love my job but I find it hard to do what I do. It’s sometimes so hard that I need to find new ways of doing it. And at times like these I really am grateful for all the love that surrounds me. The kindness, help, support and good fortune that snuggles me up like a favourite blanket.

So, there are changes afoot. And Oooooh I don’t like changes! There’s so much comfort in the familiar, and shaking things up makes me feel quite wobbly. But I really do need this and if I had a superpower I think it would be my way of finding different ways of doing the same thing… 

It’s nearly Christmas again. These are strange times and sometimes it can be hard. I am always glad to hear when my work brings a smile (or a few tears when they are needed). We are all coping in our own ways, being as brave and hopeful as we can. One thing is certain: we are all in this together. And my main reflection on another strange year is how kind people can be. The people who really matter. You know the ones.

I am sorry this is not as bubbly a missive as is my custom. Like many other families, ours has had a sad bereavement.

Two videos from my sold out art exhibition Keep On Keeping On at Panter & Hall, London. 23 November-3 December 2021.

Hallo Lovelies!

Greetings from a busy busy studio by the sea!

How’ve you been keeping?

Well, I hope?

Me? I’m feeling healthy, strong, and very grateful for that.

I’ve been working away, keeping my head down, focussing on making things rather than the social media, so I’m sorry for the lack of postings.

My newest newest News is that I have just (2 weeks ago) decided to make a new book… self publishing some of the quick little pen and ink drawings from this year’s sketch book diary for the first time. It’s a bit mad because I have so much else going on, but I couldn’t resist. Available from late November. And at the Show of course, more of that later.

I always find it a strange, sad and exciting time, this change of Seasons. Is it just me? I’m never ready to move on, but I know I’ll love it when I get in the swing…

Every day I walk with my dogs down to the studio. A short walk with the sea at the bottom of the hill. It’s a bit lovely. But every day I witness the plaintive cries of the almost-grown baby seagulls as they pester their parents to give them food. I know it’s nature but I always find it heartbreakingly sad. It has not yet occurred to them that a change is coming. They are only asking for food as they always have done, and it’s always worked before. But it’s time to move on. Things will never be the same for them again, and that jump from babyhood to adulthood can be a brutal one. It reminds me of the changes we have all been through over the last 18 months. It’s been shocking and awful and we’ve had little control over it. We’ve all been through it. And I’m hoping in time we will soar again. I feel it coming. But in the meantime I offer you a big virtual hug. It’s a time for finding pleasure in personal treasures. And I hope looking through some new pictures may brighten up your day too.

I feel I should add a fanfare here as I am DELIGHTED to be back at Panter and Hall again this November. This solo show (cancelled once for cancer, once for Covid) feels like a comeback even though we’ve never really been away. Do you know what I mean?

And as I have had to cancel my Little Mustard Shop show, this is the only opportunity to view original work in a gallery this year. Paintings Drawings Bronzes. And I’m planning a little book of drawings, sketching my life and times in the run up to the show. I’ll know more in a few weeks when I’ve finished the drawings. Neither have I finished the paintings. But three brand new bronzes are on the way. Blummin exciting.

The London show runs from 23rd November to 3rd December. The work will be so fresh and new! I will be in the gallery two of the days and I really hope you can make it for the Private View on Tuesday 23rd and/or for the Grand Day Out on Saturday 27th. But if you can’t, there will also be a short film and an ecatalogue… Contact Panter and Hall direct if you are interested in buying and you’d like to receive the ecatalogue in advance. Or if you’d like to attend one of the open days. Once I have finished the paintings in a few weeks I will have some time and space to dream up some fun things for the Saturday event and I’ll send another email with all the details.

I’ll leave you now and get on with my sketchings. I have Milo coming to make a short film Thursday and Innis coming to take some pictures Friday so obviously the most important thing is deciding which frock to wear and giving the dogs a good brush,

All the very best,

Sam x