From Printmaking Meltdown, Studio Magic, and a Slice of Cake
I set off from my home in North Uist on Tuesday morning (7th April) after what has been feeling like a never-ending winter—wind, rain, and general greyness—and somehow travelled into… actual sunshine ☀️ 18 degrees, blue skies, and a ferry crossing that felt like a reset button.
At around 7pm I arrived in Inverness to a perfectly positioned little room (close, comfy, clean, not wildly expensive—win).
8th April at 10am-I went straight into Highland Print Studio … and honestly, what a turnaround. After weeks of battling my home UV unit (still not forgiven), my plates finally behaved. Consistent. Predictable. No stress. Highland Print Studio is purpose-built, well-equipped, and—most importantly—reliable. No guessing games, no crossed fingers, no whispered negotiations with machinery. Just calm, consistent process.
After weeks of stress, second-guessing, and mild existential dread, everything came out exactly as predicted. Consistent. Clean. Usable. I could practically feel my shoulders drop about three inches. It’s hard to overstate how reassuring it is when something finally behaves the way it’s supposed to. Suddenly, moving forward doesn’t feel like a gamble—it feels possible.
The studio was buzzing—presses running, great conversation, and a group of lovely gentlemen printmakers on a course. There’s something incredibly comforting about a busy studio. I was definitely in my happy place 🎨 😊
The day ended in the best possible way—with an invitation to tea and chocolate cake. I’m fairly certain this was a pre-celebration for the studio’s upcoming 40-year anniversary – still there’s something about sharing cake after a productive day that feels like a small but significant victory.
I left feeling lighter, calmer, and—most importantly—ready to continue. Sometimes all it takes is the right space, the right people, and equipment that doesn’t actively conspire against you.
And possibly cake. Definitely cake!
Today (9th April) I had a 4am start to catch the 9am ferry home… at 11am!
Good journeys, good studios, good people—and yes, cake—make all the difference.
Island life in North Uist isn’t something you master overnight—but give it eight years and a lot of ferry journeys… I am finally starting to get the hang of it. These days I feel less isolated – like I’m finding a place within a wider Highland (and slightly sea-crossed) community.
Nicola Neate 