Leaving Lady B to Dine in Peace!

And there is certainly a 'woman within ken' in the dining room for the walls that I have painted in a distemper inspired by the colour of 'Wedgewood Blue' are now adorned with several female likenesses which feature the likes of the notorious Lady Melbourne, the celebrated Duchess of Devonshire and the sculptor Anne Seymour Damer...

Taking My Leave of Number 13?

"Walked early to look at my old house in Piccadilly - saw into the room where I have sat with him, and felt as if I had lived there with a friend who was long since dead to me." These poignant reflections were noted in Annabella's journal on September 17 in 1820, a mere four years after she had left hearth, home and Byron behind on a cold January day and walked out of the front door of 13 Piccadilly Terrace for the last time...

Slaving Over a Hot Stove – Me Thinks Not!

I profess that cooking is definitely not my forte, I am oblivious to the designs of any kitchen and I would rather spend money on chocolate and books than on any cooking gadget. That said I have had to create a Regency kitchen which now nestles in the basement of my 13 Piccadilly Terrace!

The Agony of a Stroll Along Piccadilly…

'We mean to metropolize to-morrow, and you will address your next to Piccadilly...' ~ Lord Byron Last November I too metropolized to London for a few days and on one quiet and chilly afternoon after a quick rendezvous with Lord Byron in Bennet Street, I went for a stroll along Piccadilly to take a lingering look at the abode which was the scene of his short and difficult union with the unfortunate Annabella Milbanke and the inspiration for the creation of Byron's abode, albeit in 12th scale!

Shrink Me! A Miniaturist Makes a House Call.

As we made our way to the kitchen, I did enjoy a final wistful glance of the dining room with its elaborate stucco ceiling for the recreation of one for Lord B’s abode had resulted in much heartbreak and insomnia during one painful month from inception to completion... However, as we entered the kitchen, I had the strangest sense of déjà vu and as I looked around at the familiar sight of the huge fire with spit roast and bread oven, I felt as if I had shrunk and had wandered into the basement kitchen of Lord B’s abode, albeit in 12th scale!

The Price is Right?

However, as the doors to MY Piccadilly Terrace have been closed for some time now - I too plead guilty to the charge of being a ‘lazy correspondent’ and although my state of health is far from delicate unlike that of Byron’s pregnant spouse; I have found myself centre stage in a series of unfortunate events since the spring, that have kept me from darkening the doors of Number 13...

The Ghost of Piccadilly.

Of all romances in miniature... perhaps this is the best shape in which Romance can appear..' so said the fabulous Lord Byron in one of his many journal scribblings and as artist AND a passionate devotee of Regency History who loves to create a scene and not only of the hysterical kind; it is perhaps only to be expected that I would create a Regency inspired miniature! In 2009, I began the creation of '13 Piccadilly Terrace' - a Regency house with grand rooms, a basement kitchen and garrets which reflect the architecture, interior design, furniture and life-style of the Regency inspired by the poet Lord Byron and his household as he lived in Piccadilly in the year 1815...

The Makings of a Real Romance?

'Fletcher, after having been toasted and roasted, and baked and grilled, and eaten by all sorts of creeping things begins to philosophise, is grown a refined as well as a resigned character...' ~ Lord Byron Fast forward from that balmy July over two hundred years later to our present day and to the creation of my Byron-inspired Regency House...

Boatswain Soaks Up the Warmth as Tee Makes Tea…

Yes, I am still here and I can guess what thought is uppermost in your mind right now as you read this! For you're probably thinking that I have forgotten all about Number 13 Piccadilly Terrace and have shaken the dust of the year 1815 from the soles of my feet as Lord B had hoped to when he sailed from our shores in the Spring of 1816 to a life of exile and even greater notoriety...