Saturday, 10 March 2018


I found myself planning our summer holiday today,
dreaming of ancient stone walls, 
sun-drenched days
– Italy. 
After a jaunt of bookmarking
& even contacting an owner,
had to dig out some pics from two summers ago, 
taken in the beautiful spot of Gordes in Provence.


Sunday, 4 March 2018


a weekend of birthday celebrations & people,
walks in a wintry landscape by the sea,
moments of quiet with a book.
it's march but winter's hanging in there,
yet it's lost its grip.
daylight lingers,
lightness inside pushes through.

i've been immersed in the words of Ali Smith,
she reignited a passion to read
that's been on a backburner for a bit. 
words like these in her book Winter,
(which I couldn't put down
despite a desire to savour,
so the only option was to read each word slowly):

“What he longs for instead, 
as he sits at the food-strewn table, 
is winter, winter itself. 
He wants the essentiality of winter, 
not this half-season grey selfsameness. 
He wants real winter where woods are sheathed in snow, 
trees emphatic with its white, 
their bareness shining and enhanced because of it, 
the ground underfoot snow-covered as if with frozen feathers 
or shredded cloud but streaked with gold through the trees from low winter sun, 
and at the end of the barely discernible track, 
along the dip in the snow that indicates a muffled path between the trees, 
the view and the woods opening to a light 
that’s itself untrodden, 
never been blemished, 
wide like an expanse of snow-sea, 
above it more snow promised, 
waiting its time in the blank of the sky.” 

i've cleared my diary for next week
 to give my joint venture the attention it craves right now.
things are exciting on the work front on so many levels
that sometimes it's a littly tricky to swith off.
but i'm learning
& loving the balance. 

wishing you a lovely Sunday evening
& light-filled week ahead. 


Monday, 26 February 2018


some weekend snapshots.
back to business as usual today
after a week of total & utter rest. 


Saturday, 24 February 2018


Today I'm flying low
& I'm not saying a word.
I'm letting all the voodoos of ambition sleep.

The world goes on as it must,
the bees in the garden rumbling a little,
the fish leaping,
the gnats getting eaten.
And so forth.

But I'm taking the day off.
Quiet as a feather.
I hardly move 
though really I'm travelling 
a terrific distance.

One of the doors 
into the temple.

~ Mary Oliver

Friday, 23 February 2018


Dear blog,
you secret sanctuary,
 hideaway of mine,
it's been a while.
One of these anyway,
simply from a desire
to catch the mood,
a fleeting moment,
the light. 
It's a white light now.
One that sparkles,
catches on the silver ball in the corner of the room
that then casts its spell on the ceiling.
The rays so warm through the window
that it's easy to imagine oneself in the heat of a summer's day in Tuscany,
forget the cold spell beyond the window pane.

Almost a week off,
and I'm taking notice again,
breathing more softly,
feeling a sense of h a p p i n e s s inside.
The kind that calls to look,
admire create. 
I've missed that notion,
so linger on won't you... 

"I'll wake up as a twelve-year-old,"
my daughter announced just before crawling to bed last night.
She told me she's been having a bit of an age-related crisis,
so I think we were both a little relieved
when she woke up this morning
as per her normal, wonderful self
– smiling, humming, dancing. 
She's at ballet now
and when she gets back
we'll head to an Italian restaurant nearby,
her choice.
She adds a whole different glow to my life.

"Je voudrais du soleil vert,
des dentelles et des théières,
des photos de bord de mer
dans mon jardin d'hiver.

Je voudrais de la lumière 
comme en Nouvelle-Angleterre.
Je veux changer d'atmosphère 
dans mon jardin d'hiver."

~ Keren Ann


Tuesday, 6 February 2018


The weeks have flown by in a whirl, ladies & gents.
After family time in England over the New Year,
I found myself there again,
this time in East London.

We spent the days presenting our photo books 
arriving after a long day
to cups of tea & chocolate cake,
followed by a glass of red from the honesty bar,
before venturing out to dinner.

Nothing like running a bath last thing at night,
(or first thing in the morning for that matter...)

and falling fast asleep in a canopy bed
fit for a queen.

Somehow it does good for the soul
to offset busyness & people
with a quiet place to crawl into.
Something I need to find every day,
even if a canopy bed is replaced by a nook on the sofa,
music to the ears,
 a walk,
pen to paper,
lens to light,
no distractions. 


All images taken at The Rookery.


Monday, 15 January 2018


Driving down the motorway
from seeing my granny
to catching a plane at Heathrow,
we decided to skip the regular 
roadside service station
& head for some tea in Oxford instead.

Rather than googling what's around,
with so little time at hand
we headed straight to England's first ever coffee house,
which came to mind 
from a previous visit. 
We enjoyed our light lunch
washed down with coffee & tea,
then had about five minutes
to walk down an alluring looking street
on our way back to the car.

Oxford has a spell about it.
You find yourself instinctively
gently brushing the ancient stone walls
as you walk past,
as if something of the wise & exquisite
would rub off as you pass.

There's always a next time,
I'm sure.


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