My nan wrote me many letters back in 2011. They were about the love of her life,
my grandad, Stanley Burndred. I've never met him, he died long before I was bor
n, but his drawings, paintings and ceramics have been in my life for as long as
I can remember.
Every wall of Nan's house would be decorated by his artworks
and every windowsill bore his ceramic creations. Whenever we visited Nan in the
Black Country I would study the ornaments and pictures, wondering who had made t
hem. It wasn't until I wrote to Nan many years later, receiving in return beauti
ful handwritten letters detailing his life, that it became apparent that the wor
k was his.
