"The most common question people ask about my work is 'How long do they take?', so here is the answer. It takes the form of 'year in the life of' because there really is no short answer.

October 1st: Having spent far too much time playing outside during the summer, I have almost no sculpture here apart from the pieces I will never sell. It is disconcerting as I like to have plenty round me so I can keep a keen eye on quality - time to get down to some serious work. It is wonderful to go back into the familiar privacy of my workshop and soon my hands are occupied. I do not work with an assistant on small sculptures. When the creative flow is running, clear sculptures pour out one after another, My energy is boundless, everything around me seems to vibrate with potential, my hands light on the right piece of wood without fail, I feel as thought I am in exactly the right place doing exactly the right thing at exactly the right time and all is magical. Then with no prior warning the flow simply stops as though a tap has been turned off. It never bothers me because I know full well it is just time for a break. It is well nigh impossible to stop until that happens -- it usually takes an emergency. I am incredibly fortunate in having the freedom to live as I do.

November 1st: I have been very productive. Don, my assistant, has been out beachcombing with the pick up truck, we have had some good new pieces of driftwood, and it is always easier to be inspired when the tang of brine still rises from the piles of wood. I now have some six or seven new works, all promising, all in different stages of completion, all of a similar scale. Clients are beginning to ring with enquiries for Christmas gifts. I hate the shortening of the days, I don't like working in artificial light.

December 1st: I am in a frenzy of making, very excited by some of the developments in the small pieces and wishing that Christmas was further away.

January 1st: During the few days off over the holiday I realized that some of the small pieces that so pleased me with their promise were not good enough. Some of them I have left to one side and others I have reworked -- they are much better now. Just wish the days were longer. Several of the better pieces have been sold; others have gone to various exhibitions and so I still feel short of work. I would really like some colour round the place but painting in the winter months is so hard; the lack of light is depressing and I cannot find the inspiration to get started.

February 1st: Have managed to get some good new things done and am still looking at others that are unfinished but promising, I don't want to spoil them by overworking the forms and I can't seem to find the right bits of wood. I need a change. I have been asked to take part in an exhibition at the Jardins du Luxembourg in Paris and the sculpture has to be installed by March 9th. Somehow the time has gone by without me noticing. I was going to put "Beltane Juno" there but think instead I will try and make a new one -- it is a very tight deadline but there is nothing to lose. We have started the steel armature, Don has found a lot of new driftwood and there are some great shapes amongst it - a lot of really solid oak, elm and larch. We have started work with a vengeance in the big workshop. It is freezing, bitter east winds are unusual in the West Country, we have to have frequent breaks and wear storm proof clothes. But we have the beginnings of a mare and she is beautiful, I think we may get her done in time, she is fairly flying together. The new load of driftwood is marvellous, I have found enough to start a second life-size horse, and I am going to make a full size version of a new small piece. We have made another armature. The weather has changed. It is now much warmer but very, very wet indeed. The rain is driving into the workshop and making picking up bits of driftwood from the yard a miserable experience. If I were not so excited by these pieces I would give up. Working with Don helps enormously; he is a real treasure, very skilled and always cheerful.

March 1st: The new horse is wonderful, it is definitely masculine, a stallion and a real foil for the mare who is nearing completion. We have found it helps to work them alongside each other. I am on a real high and don't want to stop to go to Paris even though it is one of my favourite cities.

March 11th: Back from Paris. This horse is as good as I thought, he is what I have been waiting for for many months; the first life-size driftwood horse destined to be produced in bronze. I have named him Apollo. He is going to Plymouth on the 17th for the launch of the new series 6 BMW. Still on a surge of making we have started another armature but smaller this time, we can use a lot of the off-cuts from the two bigger horses and it is coming very fast.

March 26th: The small one is finished -- well not so small, about 12.2hh, a filly foal - "Fortune Filly". She is so like the other two that she could be their daughter. She has gone to exhibition at Dartington. The workshop is empty and we have made another armature for a third life-size horse, all the major bits of wood are in place. My hands and arms are very sore, Don is also tired but we are still enthusiastic. I have to send two life-size pieces to Newby Hall in Yorkshire by May 10th and cannot rely on the Paris mare being available because she may sell so I feel we should get this one done.

April 1st: I cannot find a single piece of wood that is right, it is time to stop. I have tried to get going on new small works but my hands are too sore. It is very frustrating. I still can't seem to paint. We have some dry stone walling to do.

May 1st: Have lost all impetus on the life-size horse, it is only half finished and standing to one side in the big workshop. Have to go to Paris on the 10th to pick up the mare; she can go to Newby on the 10th. I am becoming increasingly bad tempered through enforced rest. I must find a different way of working that is less physically taxing.

June 1st: I have started using plaster and clay together with the driftwood which is much easier to construct and am once more totally absorbed as new pieces rise energetically out of thin air gaining more and more substance. It feels good to be back in the workshop.

July 1st: The new pieces were going really well and then the flow ceased abruptly. I cannot find inspiration anywhere, midsummer is approaching, and everyone seems to be going away on holiday. It is staggeringly hot. I feel stale, utterly without energy and my arms and hands still hurt. The house seems to be lacking colour. I still can't paint. There are exhibitions looming and I am opening the studios here to the public in September, it all seems rather close. I need a break but also need to arrange images for a new catalogue. Absolute delight! Having taken a trip to look for photographic locations I found some wonderful flat sandy beaches, got very wet, too confident and almost lost some sculptures to the waves but I have some marvellous photos.

August 1st: The osteopath has worked his miracles, I am pain free, back to normal and back in the workshop, new driftwood pieces are streaming out again and I don't care if the sun is not shining.

September 1st: Manic is the only word to describe things here. My small workshop is bulging with new sculptures and littered with their off-cuts, it looks as though a bomb has hit it, I have worked hard on the photos and now have my favourite images produced as limited edition prints on beautiful quality watercolour paper. At last there is colour on the walls and I am expecting to start painting at any moment. I am well on course for the autumn exhibition. We are nearly ready for Open Studios. These events are a lot of fun and this year I have included a Grand Scarecrow Competition, there are prizes for the largest,smallest, funniest and most politically incorrect scarecrows open to everyone. The judging will take place on the last day of Open Studios. The press are covering it and entries are flooding in, the public seem to have taken this to heart and produced an astonishingly colourful display all the way down my long drive. It is quite fantastic. So back to the question, 'How long do they take to make?'. Has a pattern emerged? I have not counted how many pieces I have made this year, two life size horses, one life-size foal, one reclining mare about 6ft long, numerous small driftwood pieces, some mixed media pieces for bronze and I am still working. The third life-size horse remains unfinished. In the meantime I have become addicted to lying on wet beaches with a camera and adroit at snatching things back from the waves which I suppose is where it all began in the first place."

Heather Jansch

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