During our stay in beautiful Durness, Cat Daddy and I embarked upon a magical voyage into the home – and creative imagination – of artist Lotte Glob. Words alone cannot adequately describe her world and it really has to be seen in person, but you can find out more about it here.
We fell in love with one of Lotte’s pieces in particular, called The Book of Hope. It’s named after Ben Hope, the mountain from which the raw materials were gathered to make the book. But, somehow, it also sums up our optimism in putting a precious, fragile piece of art in the same house as a cat who always does the opposite of what you want. The exact combinations and proportions of clay, minerals, plants and bones (yes, BONES) that went into the pages are known only by it and its author, and that’s part of its wonder. It’s like the Cailleach’s personal book of shadows, excavated from deep within the earth, and we will never fully know its secrets. (Unless Louis Catorze smashes it up.)
When we returned to Lotte’s place the next day to collect the book, a second piece also caught our eye. This one is called The Iron Pool, and we hope that it will provide the birds with some much-needed water in this heatwave whilst also being high-sided enough to keep it from inquisitive Catorzian paws/tongues. We love the fact that it looks like an earth-toned flower from a distance but, when you approach, there’s a surprise blue loch inside:
I wasn’t allowed to plonk Catorze next to The Iron Pool for a photo (Cat Daddy: “Nooo, we don’t want to draw his attention to it in any way!”), but I did manage to capture the little sod with The Book of Hope. The more I think about it, the less weird it is that a household with a black vampire cat also has a sculpture containing hidden bones.
If you are in the Scottish Highlands, Lotte’s place is well worth a visit (by appointment only). As well as being talented, she is a delightful person and so easy to talk to. We would love to see her again when we return next year to climb Ben Hope.