Hallo friends,

I hope your Spring is coming along just fine? Snowdrops in the woods and budding leaves on the trees. I know a lot of people don’t like the cold and the wet, but it is one of my favourite times of year. Fresh shoots. Lots of possibilities. And I’m writing to introduce you to my new project!

I was unwell last year and in October I closed my Brighton shop. I was very sad about that. Little Mustard Shop was a childhood dream. A tiny shop selling little gifts I’d made, cards and prints, along with treasures sourced to complement the World of Mustard. While renovating it from a long closed sandwich shop, we found a quaint shop frontage. We picked out the iron work in gold and painted the rest a luscious shade of dark green. I planted little trees in pots either side, put in a checker board step and commissioned lovely hand painted signage. My work is sold and distributed all over the world. But Little Mustard Shop was always a small corner where I felt I could present my work in the way I wanted. Something very personal to me. Like I said, a dream come true. And I couldn’t bring myself to give it up.

During my recovery I realised I may not be able to do as much as I did before and set about deciding upon the things that were most important. Like painting, friends and family, my dogs, my health, my pottery classes. And my Little Shop.

It would be far too much work to run the shop as it was, open 5 days a week selling cards and gifts, employing lots of different staff. Instead we will open for a weekend every couple of months selling original work. Myself and my partner Graham will run it, with help from dear friends. Over the last year, I have not been producing work and the galleries have been selling the last available originals. But this year I cannot have the stress of producing lots of pictures for a big gallery show. Instead we will be bringing you a series of small collections every few months. Little Mustard Shop and our soon-to-be launched website will be the only place in the world to buy new paintings in 2020.

Whilst I have been ill I have been attending pottery classes. I have managed to make a few small pieces I’m proud of. They take me ages to do but it’s so therapeutic. They are precious, there won’t be many and due to breakages they must be collected not sent. They will be available exclusively at my Little Shop.

At time of writing I have very tight blonde chemo curls. I am told I resemble one of the Marx brothers. You have been warned.

Big love and all the best,

Sam x

Well, the dust is settling.

It’s been a strange old year in Mustard Land but I definitely see a light at the end of the tunnel. In fact, it’s not been a bad old tunnel. I was very lucky with an early diagnosis of an aggressive cancer. And now I am getting better. I thank you for your hundreds of messages wishing me well. I am reading about 20 a week and have enough to see me into the new year! You ARE a lovely lot... I very much appreciate all your thoughts and prayers and I am sad to read about all of you out there who are going through terrible times. I feel so fortunate. My treatment was nowhere near as bad as I’d imagined. I got a big rest, a bit of a shakeup and a chance to put together a more ideal life. Sure there were some sadnesses. I had to close my little Brighton shop. I needed to shut down the service in my Phone Box Galleries. I’m hardly spending any time at the studio. I’m not planning any big shows for next year. But I AM considering doing an art course. I’d like to learn about sculpture and oil painting, printing and animation. There will doubtless be lots of plans afoot but until the end of the year I’ll be keeping it cosy.

My mum has developed shingles. My big dog Betty has sliced her paw. And just when I was getting my energy back for walking, my left knee went all sore. We are a family in the wars. But we are strong, we are kind to each other and when we pull together, things gradually get better. And there are many many bright stars out there. One is my sister Louise. She lives in Cornwall and is stepping in to help run our online shop while Nan is ill. We have help from Lorraine who lives in the village. Serafina my niece is a whizz with the packaging. And they all have support from Juno dog, Pipskin and Elsie rabbits. In fact it’s been a hive of activity at a certain little garage in Cornwall. And I imagine you’ll want to know what we have been dreaming up for you?

And although I am not making any definite plans for the new year, there are ideas simmering of course. I think it will be a quiet year in terms of productivity, but an enriching one too, I hope. I’m thinking about having a few Pop Ups at the Shop premises in Brighton. Small and cosy events where I can show you a few of my new original paintings, sculpture and ceramics. I’m not going to be spreading myself too thin. I’m going to be focussing on my creative juiciness rather than making vast amounts of work.

I’ll stay in touch on social media but less so. Perhaps a few times a month rather than most days. It’s a time of hunkering down and drawing in. I’ll contact you here every now and so through the year and invite you to join us online or in person if we manage to get together any little events in Brighton by the sea.

I count myself very lucky to have Mr Mustard who is such a good communicator of hope and joy and whimsy. It’s a crazy sad world out there sometimes, but I’m feeling that things are going to get better, in small ways, one day at a time.

Big Love,

Sam Toft

Hallo Dear Mustard Lovers,

 I hope this email finds you well?

 Do you feel Springy? Springish? Sprunged?

Well I feel that we haven’t quite done Winter yet. It’s been so mild here in Brighton. The snowdrops are out in the woods, and the little daffodils are nodding their heavy heads in the Square. I can’t help thinking there must be a super cold snap on its way. I’m quite looking forward to it actually.

I’ve had a lot of time to think on my long walks with the dogs. Betty and Stan are both thriving for which I am grateful each and every step of the way. After the year long illness and brave death of Moses, my brown dog, I can only feel incredible joy and good fortune when I watch my two running flat out after squirrels and rabbits, crashing through the brambles, barking up trees. I didn’t know what life would be like after Moses, but so far it has been kind and hopeful. Dear, dear Moses: I thank you.

So back to those thoughts and plans. I had an idea that it would be good to plan my year a bit and let you know what I am doing as far in advance as I can. My little shop in Brighton takes up far too much of my time but I love it like a third child. The expensive one. I’d love you to come visit us if you can.

I’ve been finding it hard to get back to work this year. After such a busy time of it in 2018 I still feel a bit jaded. Everything is a bit chaotic and untidy, piles of things to sort out, my hair is a mess and my exercise classes just aren’t doing themselves. I know its bleak out there but I really do feel that 2019 will be a special one. I just need to get myself started.

I’ve been focussing on things that bring me comfort. Spending time with the dogs, sorting out the studio, repainting the shop, making lists. I think it’s going to be alright.

Sending Big Love to all of you. It’s cold, it’s a bit hard and it can be relentless sometimes. I’ve bought myself some sprouting daffodil bulbs for my window boxes front and back. I’m going to put them in tomorrow and look forward to the new year with hope,

Keep on keeping on,

Sam Toft

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