Isn't telling people how to turn household chores into a fun project just a little old-fashioned? Not at all, 'domestic artist' Jane Brocket tells GRACE WYNNE-JONES

IT’S THE TIME OF year when we are expected to give our homes a spring cleaning. But it’s also the ideal time to ask ourselves this question: Do we want to be domestic drudges? Or do we want to be domestic artists – like writer and blogger Jane Brocket?

Brocket believes we should ignore dust in favour of expressing ourselves creatively in our homes and her mission is to get us “to think about domestic space in an artistic and creative way”. “My quilts make me happy,” she declares.

Brocket has thousands of loyal devotees. When her book The Gentle Art of Domesticitywas published in 2007 her "Yarnstorm" blog got up to 65,000 hits a week. Her hallmark is her light touch, and her "have a go" playfulness. Every room in her house is a different colour and she also adores her bright array of hand-knitted cushions.

And her followers are not all female. She has a band of male supporters, some who are particularly keen on “knitting and quilting”.

Brocket, who lives in Berkshire, admits she likes putting on a nice apron and “not a frilly pinny”, as this makes her feel “ready to do something”.

She also says her creative domestic approach can help in recession because it’s about making the most of what you’ve got. She is not interested in fast cars. “The only four material things I need are chocolate, wine, books and knitting.”

Many examples of Brocket’s domestic “art” are displayed ebulliently in her book along with how-to tips. The pages also include advice about gardening, baking, sewing, good domestic reads and films and “Gingerbread Architecture”.

What’s intriguing about this domestic view is that it seems so old-fashioned. Shirley Conran once declared that “life is too short to stuff a mushroom”. But vast numbers of young women – and some men – now want to sew patchwork quilts. Are they regressing to the 1950s?

Not at all, says Brocket. Instead they have found there is real therapy in using your hands. “The benefits are enormous. There is a calming, soothing rhythm. The mind wanders. It’s lovely. It’s not just about the objects but the feelings of fulfilment. The fantastic thing about being a woman now in the 21st century is we have choices. It’s not like the 1950s.”

Brocket says she doesn’t want to add to the stuff thrown at women about “being perfect . . . trying to be everything”. If you like something you’ve made, that’s good enough. In her version of “gentle domesticity”, arts and crafts cheerfully intermingle. For some, being a domestic artist may just involve some small flourishes. For example Brocket frequently displays knitting needles in vases.

The mother-of-three rarely irons and doesn’t dust but wipes. She admits living in organised chaos but says she grows fantastic potatoes. When it comes to tidiness she is philosophical. “With five people in the house, it can’t be perfect.” Her husband does the hoovering. And she gets her children to help with the chores.

“I can’t watch TV without doing something,” she adds. “I love something with a beautiful texture or colour on my lap.” When her children were younger she got on with her domestic creativity when they were asleep. “Or they would cuddle up to me when I was knitting. The biggest satisfaction is giving myself time to do things.”

BROCKET’S FATHER died when she was seven and her mother was a teacher who didn’t do much domestic stuff. But even as a young teenager Brocket chose lime green for her bedroom and had purple drawers and radiators.

Now 49, she has spent 17 years working as a wine consultant, and is a “Master of Wine”. “There are just over 70 female Masters of Wine in the world. The thing that fascinates me about wine is the people who make it. People with a creative touch who are helped by the environment. Wine is a metaphor for good living.”

Good living is Brocket's passion. Especially when it comes to the domestic dolce vita. But she emphasises that domestic artists are not perfectionists and that it is one aspect of life, not a lifestyle. "The hyacinth doesn't have to come out in time for Christmas," she says.

She has found that making things you previously paid others to provide can be enormously satisfying. Her main aim is to encourage people to take what has always been good about domesticity. If we don’t ask ourselves why these things are valuable, we lose a measure of independence and we become disassociated with our natures, she adds.

FANCY BECOMING a domestic artist yourself? Then you will need the courage of your convictions. For example Brocket’s study is painted vermilion red and her living room is apple green.

“A lot of people are frightened of colour,” she comments. “They say, ‘I would never dare do that’, but I say, ‘It’s only a pot of paint’.”

But if you want to have a colour-fest on a smaller scale, she suggests you bake some cup cakes and decorate them with natural colourings. “Go to town on gorgeous colours,” she urges.

Of course, many people will feel they simply don’t have the time to suddenly take up embroidery. But being a domestic artist is as much a philosophy as a skill-set. At its most basic it could involve putting a bunch of daffs in a pretty vase and looking at them for at least a minute. You also need to learn when it’s time to put on the kettle, have a piece of cake and read a nice book or watch a nice film. “It’s not pampering, it is being kind to yourself,” Brocket says reassuringly.

She is now working on a book about children’s games, gleaned from favourite children’s classics. And no, she won’t be doing any spring cleaning.

Brocket recently started a new blog on yarnstorm.blogs.com. A recent posting was accompanied by a photo of an amaryllis flower and a cake on cheery china, which promoted a flurry of comments.

One fan wrote: “I have an identical spotty tea-set. It belonged to my grandmother, who used to fetch it out for special occasions or when church ladies came round for a cup of tea . . .”

Another domestic artist wrote: “The snow outside is a perfect excuse to stay in and do some baking. A chocolate fudge cake, I think . . . That red amaryllis is amazing!”

In her own blog, Alicia Paulson, from Oregon, wrote about how thrilled she was when her copy of Brocket’s book arrived in the post. “Jane’s unique vision and her natural ability to see the relationship between the home and the wider world outside – whether she’s looking at a conker in the back garden or the vibrant streets of New York – is nothing but endlessly inspiring to me,” she writes. “Who am I to say what will or will not change the world, but I absolutely believe that peace begins at home.”

The Gentle Art of Domesticityby Jane Brocket, Hodder and Stoughton, £25 in UK

Five steps to becoming a true domestic artist

1.Cultivate a habit of "seeing" and you'll find inspiration: In The Gentle Art of Domesticity, Brocket writes: "Inspiration is inspiration, whether the end result is a painted masterpiece, a soul-searching sonnet, a richly coloured homemade quilt or a batch of freshly baked rock buns."

2.Use your hands: Brocket writes: "I am not a vain person, but I do like my hands. I like the way they knead dough, create stitches, hold yarn, thread needles, sort beads and buttons. Softness, gentleness, warmth, coolness, strength and fragility are all at our fingertips when we knit and stitch and quilt and bake."

3.Learn a new skill or pick up an old one: Brocket reveals that she was scared of quilting incorrectly until she met craft maestro Kaffe Fassett. She loved his "just do it" approach and she felt inspired when he spoke of the "ballet of colour" in daily life.

4.List your favourite home comforts and enjoy them: Brocket's cosy list includes a good cup of tea, BBC Radio 4, cakes, Birkenstocks and Alan Bennett.

5.Grow something: For example basil or "beautiful bulbs". Brocket believes that "a floppy hyacinth and an uneven pot of basil are still better than the bland, neat and regular shop-bought versions".

For more information, see www.janebrocket.com