I’ve been spending a lot of time in the peaceful gardens of my local Buddhist meditation centre with my new pup. We sit on a bench beneath a small tree with its large, lime green heart-shaped leaves. We’ve been watching as they turn almost  iridescent shades of shell pink. And as they fall there’s a dazzling abstract pattern creating itself on the dew-soaked grass. Fresh coral hearts join the yellows and the russets beneath. It’s an Eastern Redbud I think. Spectacular.  

No time for painting. Not much time for writing. No energy at all for dreaming up new ideas at my lovely quiet studio. The short nights, long days and addled brain will be familiar to all new mums, carers and puppy parents. The eyes may be bleary but my heart is full. And I know I am very lucky to have this time for contemplating the beauty of nature on my doorstep. Pushing an oversized pre-vaccinated puppy in a sturdy perambulator along the early morning streets. My little Birdy is too heavy to be carried far and we have resorted to wheels for our socialising. The mild November weather has been such a blessing.  

I stole her from a farm in Devon.  

I didn’t really steal her, but that’s how it must have felt for my Birdy.  

She’s a large brown mixed breed, cleverly incorporating parts of all of my former dogs. She’s a Newfoundland mix: part German Shepherd, part Poodle, part Bernese Mountain dog. Her coat is a bit curly, a bit fluffy, a bit wiry but with the ubiquitous rose pink puppy belly. Her paws are the size of Betty’s, her eyes are full of love and mischief, her teeth as sharp as razors.  I stole her from her mum and dad and grandparents and siblings. I stole her from the fields, the woods, the lakes and rivers, from the straw and the stables and the huge blue skies. Now she’s landed in a townhouse with a small walled garden and a tiny fish pond with just me and a talking budgie for company. Busy roads and pebbled beaches, seaside piers and promenades, cafés, city parks and cul-de-sacs. But her biggest shock I think was hearing seagulls instead of skylarks. Birdy  is a very brave pup indeed.  

Three weeks in and I’m fifty shades of shattered. Glad I got the paintings for my final show of 2024 to the framers before our trip to Devon. Will I ever paint again?!? 

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Louise (my dear sister, she of MUSTARDHAMPERS fame) has suggested a BUMPER shopping weekend for all! Every order received Friday 29th, Saturday 30th, Sunday 1st December will receive an extra gift (and the more you order the more she will gift!) … think signed Christmas cards, mini jigsaws, notebook and pen sets, lap trays, cushions, signed black and white prints - all absolutely FREE with your orders over that long weekend!

And Nan asked me to remind you of her last order dates to get there for Christmas: Sunday December 15th for UK and Monday 2nd December for elsewhere in the World. Anything after that, email mustardshop@aol.com for possible expedited delivery. 

Along with many other artists, my work is being stolen and counterfeited on platforms like Temu and Shein.  If you value art, please buy genuine items from authorised retailers to avoid supporting theft.

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Anyhoo, back now to puppy pleasures. There’s lots of work to do with the training. Lots of cuddles and patience in between. One day soon though we’ll both be sleeping through the night. And there’ll be a new brown dog sitting at the door of Brown Dog Studio! Can’t wait to get back to painting of course, but for now we have a few tough months ahead of us to nail down that housetraining. Wish me luck! 

Thank you so much for all your love, kind messages and support. It’s appreciated now more than ever. We are all good people living in a scary and uncertain times. Let us be the change we want to see in the world.  

Big love 

Sam Toft 

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I had a little fig tree. I planted it a few years ago and it’s not so little anymore. In fact, it’s making a takeover bid for my little seaside garden. It’s been growing mostly horizontally this year, and it’s reached about 12 feet. I planted it because nothing at all seemed to grow in my dry shady chalky soil, and the snails hiding in the crumbling garden walls would eat any tentative green shoot. But I really love figs. And now I have Mr Figgy and he’s taking over the world! 

Granted it’s not quite as spacious in my little urban plot as formerly. And walking down the garden path is a bit of an obstacle course. The dense blanketing canopy of fig leaves has taken the light from my small but carefully chosen collection of snail hardy geraniums. Everything is so dark, strangled and weedy. And will those tiny figs ever even ripen? 

Does anyone remember the story of The Old Woman in the Vinegar Bottle? One of my favourites as a child and it often comes to mind at times like these. Sometimes I think I am that old woman. It’s as if the kind fairy granted my wish for a strong luscious plant that could withstand my barren terrain. But as I sit, cramped up on my bench, beneath its rampant sticky branches I find myself wishing for something smaller and more ornamental. And I reflect on how easy it is to be sad and ungrateful even though I have everything I need. And most of what I asked for.

Oftentimes when I feel blank or numb I try to think of something I can create or do to change things up. And there are random unexpected happenings in the air (not least my self-published 2025 calendar with YOUR PETS IN - but more of that later). 

It was 2008 when I had my last puppy: the World-Famous Stanley Philpot. How did I manage to find a world-famous puppy? Well sometimes they just fall from the stars and launch a whole range of gorgeous stationery, anyone remember that?! 

Dear departed Stan was the mischievous side kick to both Sir Moses Browndog and my very special Betty who joined us at 3 years old. Betty loved to play with Stan but now, unable to walk and run as fast as she used to, misses out on the regular doggie boxing and raggling sessions in the park. For my ‘crossover dog’ and to provide a new lease of life for Betty, I’ve been searching for the perfect little docile puppy lump. And I’ve found a Newfoundland mix who will be joining us in 4 or 5 weeks. I’ll name this puppy Birdy. 

But we’ve just found out that Betty will be leaving us sooner than expected. I can’t talk about it yet. But so many of us will know how that feels. The sad part of the circle of life. We have just a few quiet precious days together now. So I’m cancelling my November open studio but still going ahead with the small planned online show. I’ve had to segue this piece of upsetting news into my otherwise informative upbeat newsletter, so please forgive the jolt. The new work will be dedicated to Betty, and indeed all your own pets, both here and sadly departed. I’ve always believed the best way to handle loss is to create something new, spreading a little joy through the sadness.  

NEW ONLINE SHOW

I was planning a cosy Club event at my private studio this November. But although this is cancelled now, we are moving it online. November 29th is the launch date of the next show at www.samtoftoriginals.co.uk 

‘Live as you are. But not today’ is the title of my new collection. Something I’ve learned from Betty. These last days, all I’ve wanted to do is cry. But I’m keeping things ‘normal’ for Betty. As a sensitive dog she picks up on emotions fast. There’ll be time enough for tears when she’s gone. 

We will have brand new mixed media paintings, limited bronze editions and some small original drawings in vintage frames. The last online show for a while.  

Priority Access for Little Mustard Club members and previous samtoftoriginals buyers with a secret online code. And in the spirit of spreading the love, I’ll be selling one of the pictures to raise funds for a fabulous little primary school in Kenya I visited on my recent trip. They have absolutely nothing. Children walk miles each morning on an empty stomach. How can they hope to learn on empty stomachs? Hopefully together we can buy a few books, food and supplies to keep them going for another year. We have so much, and they have so little.  I may post a few pictures and videos on my new social media account once I have time after Betty has passed. 

At time of writing I have just picked my first soft sun warmed fig. And figs are one of my most favouritest of fruits. So expensive and often disappointing from the supermarket, my homegrown fig was even sweeter than those I’ve picked on a Greek island Summer holiday. I may even consider planting another and I’ll see if there’s a place to bury a vinegar bottle beneath!  

It is both too early and too late for little Birdy pup to come into our lives. But I’ll make the best of it, you know I will. And who knows, there may be a little treasure waiting for us all somewhere over the rainbow? 

Big love x

Sam Toft 

I’ve been hacked.

It happened so fast.

It was really spooky to have messages from thieves arriving in my inbox at silly o’clock. I felt angry and scared at the same time. Invaded even. But maybe it’s not a huge sinister crime syndicate wanting to kidnap and torture Mr Mustard. More your spotty youth working for a ne’erdowell, cramped in a damp basement somewhere not very nice at all. And there was me, lying propped up in bed early morning with a cup of tea checking emails with my lovely big dog snoring into the linen duvet.

But still. A moment of not thinking straight and now all the social media platforms I’ve been slowly building for the last 20 years have locked me out.

They played the long game I think. Offering me virtual badges and awards for jumping through hoops. I thought it’s what I needed to do to get on the right side of the algorithm. And then “Instagram” sent me this new mail full of praise for how I’d been running my accounts with daily posts and lots of engaging Stories… they said they wanted to reward me further. I was going to win big. They just needed to verify my identity with my password.

I’ve never been much good at winning things. One Third Prize and a Highly Commended throughout my childhood. Can’t remember any gold stars after infant school. No Prefects badges or Head Girl status for me and even my Highly Commended was disappointing. It wasn’t my best work.

The category I chose was Garden on a Sand Tray for the local schools display at a summer show. There were only three other entrants (the first, second and third prizes) and the advantage they had (I realised too late) was bringing their trays empty and laying out their gardens in the tent. Whereas I had carried mine across the fields. Three stiles. My tray garden looked like Uncle Quentin’s back doormat at the end of Five Go to Smugglers’ Sands.

And my Third Prize wasn’t much better. It was for the Religious Figures category. I really liked spending time at our local church and wanted to make something to impress the vicar, so I decided to create a Virgin Mary out of a toilet roll tube. I remember it was going well until my art teacher suggested I gave her ‘a nice big smile.’ I felt too shy to disagree but the Virgin I was basing my sculpture upon was the one who had just watched Jesus getting crucified. So when the teacher helpfully twisted her red crepe paper mouth into a grin, I tried to alter it later when the glue had gone tacky. The scarlet dye had run down the carefully painted face, and the glue made it look like a glossy grimace. Like I say, not my best work.


Isn’t it strange how, at any age we like a little acknowledgment of our efforts? Whether it be for making a mess on a sand tray or gaining 28k followers on Instagram.

So when I woke up too early on a Saturday morning and found an email waiting to let me know I had been awarded a new badge I forgot everything and just clicked.

And now, when I’m away on my big birthday trip I won’t be able to keep in touch as I’d planned with terribly glamorous shots on Instagram. I didn’t really fancy any big celebrations so I’m spending my party money on a trip to Africa. Then when I’m back I can get on with the rest of my life.

TWO LOVELY FREE THINGS

There’s a new addition to my YouTube channel. And if you’ve ever wanted to see inside Brown Dog Studio, this is for you! I’d love to hear what you think of it!

Gabe Alborough, my partner’s son and talented young film maker, made a short documentary film from hours and hours of footage he took over three days. It’s an insight into my personal process of painting preparing panicking (and hula hooping) before a little archive sale at my private work studio in Brighton. Back when I was 59. Imagine that.

For Club members, there’s a chance to win a brand new super remarqued print… see @littlemustardclub on Facebook or Instagram for details of how to enter. I’m so grateful that my mistake with the hackers did not affect Amber’s accounts.

I hope this email finds you well and that you’re managing to cope with all that life is throwing at you.

I hope you enjoy the summer solstice celebrations and that perhaps you’ll pick up a bargain in the Tofty Birthday Sale.

And I hope you are wise enough to NOT click on one of those pesky hacker’s links. Apparently, some people do…

Until the next time, lots of love from the Big Clicker,

Sam Toft x

A good friend asked me a question the other day. How much is a million, he said. That’s easy I thought. Six zeros with a one in front of them, right? I don’t often know the answers to random questions so I was feeling quite chuffed. And then he asked how much was a billion. And do you know what, without Google we didn’t know.

But what I DO know is how little understanding I have of big numbers. Like how many pebbles there are on Brighton beach or how many light years it would take to reach a distant planet. These numbers seem to hit my brain like a thick pea souper. I can get my head around hundreds but anything in the thousands and above starts to get a bit sticky.

So I surprised myself when I chose my new read at City Books recently because it was its title that made me pluck it from the shelf. Four Thousand Weeks by Oliver Burkeman. I really like his writing style but I don’t usually go for ‘self help’ type books. Just this one has cast quite a spell on me.

It’s a Time Management book that encourages the reader to do less. Apparently if I live into my 80s I have less than a thousand weeks left. If I’m lucky, that’s just twenty more seasons at my favourite bluebell woods.

One of the benefits I’ve noticed about my own aging is that there are fewer demands on my time. And I’m reading that even in a long life we have time to do only the tiniest fraction of the things we’d planned.

It’s such a comfort as I’d always imagined I had to try my hardest to do everything I could think of! Reading this book really takes the pressure off. And I’m realising that most of my favourite pastimes aren’t the super exciting ones. I’m not a thrill seeker. I like walking in the woods, doing a bit of painting, appreciating the little things.

As I sit here on a mossy log in the heart of Stanmer Woods it occurs to me that this may be the Perfect Spring day. A tad too warm for me and Betty but the smiles on the faces of passers by more than makes up for that. In fact it feels as if everything is smiling.

Today I’m marvelling at the abundance of early Spring flowers and the rapidity with which they form dense dotty carpets under leafless trees - as if their lives depended on it. Which I suppose they do.

The Winter Aconites with their little faces like stars in the Heavens. The Lesser Celandines with their watercress leaves and shining golden petals. They look so delicious I’m imagining they could taste lovely in a salad (maybe like pineapple flavoured cucumbers?). And those Sweet Violets pushing their tiny purple heads above the mossy banks. So romantic and delicately showy: it always feels like such a privilege to notice them. And how many sycamore seedlings there are! They’re really trying their best to take over the whole planet!

So, refreshed from my retreat in the woods, I’m deciding to do something a little more sociable. I’m having an Archive Sale! The only one of its kind and there will be plenty to rummage through. Lots of one-offs. Plenty of bargains. Original paintings, sculpture and ceramics. An unmissable event if you like my work: Lots of things under £5 and lots of exclusive original work. I will be there all the time and probably won’t open my studio again in the future.

So today I’ll start sorting the treasures from my storeroom into boxes and suitcases, putting up the trestle tables, clearing space on the shelves. It’s going to be a BIG job but I am very much looking forward to welcoming you on April 13th and 14th. I hope there’ll be something for everyone: bargains, vintage treasures, original work, live sketching and YES there will be Tunnocks!

Big Love,

Sam Toft

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