29 September 2009

Tuesday Morning

Last week's blossoms, blown away in this week's wind.

Things, (the things that make up a life), all seem a bit tenuous these last few days. Not sure why.

I need a good full day of creativity I think. I'm assigning myself an Art Only day. And perhaps a walk. And maybe I'll treat myself to a hot chocolate at that new cafe up the road.

25 September 2009

First Inspiration

Im not sure what my original intention was when I picked up this old record at the opp shop. When I arrived home I noticed something I hadn't before, written in the top left corner, an inscription. In November 1955 Chris sat down to write a note to his friend Kate, and that is all we can be sure of.

London 10/11/1955


With loving thanks for all your kindness, the tons of toast & gallons of coffee which we enjoyed in No. 10. We meet again.


I can't help wondering if it was the number 10. Anyway, after discovering this inscription several years ago I became fascinated with little fragments of other peoples lives and the mysteries that get left behind once they have moved on.

It seems I'm not alone, i was happy to discover the book inscriptions project via Sara - fascinating reading :)

24 September 2009

Last season's

A still morning, no wind, no sun, no noise. Its one of those mysterious un-weather days. Kind of like an unbirthday, which co-incidentally it is today too.

Walking home from town the other day I spied a cape gooseberry bush. Im sure these fruit must ripen in the autumn so these must be left over from last season. I didnt think anyone would mind, so I discretely hopped a fence to gather these little lanterns from beneath the bush. I also found this remnant from last seasons Pohutukawa. These little trinkets will be tucked away carefully until one day when I dedide they are just what I need for an art work.

I have been working on some other art things. Progress is slow. I seem to work like that. At first it seems as if all my effort is dissipating into thin air with nothing to show for it. Just a partly prepared surface, various separate, half finished elements, dirty paint brushes and a pile of rubbish to tidy. No masterpiece.

I become a little despondent at my lack of progress. My doubts arise to taunt me. That little critic comes out to remind me of how much I haven't achieved.

But, a-ha(!) I have a little song to hum:
Still round the corner there may wait
A new road or a secret gate...
And there always is a new road. Must remember this.

22 September 2009

Good Things

Good things:

A rickety old deck chair tucked into a private spot in the garden.
The sensation of my body defrosting after winter in the warm spring sunshine.
A stack of pre-loved magazines, passed on by a friend.
Tui swooping, Piwakawaka flitting, Kaka squawking.
Fresh spring water with a twist of lemon.
Seedlings sprouting.
A cheque in the mail for art sold (Thank You Universe).
A weekend lunch to plan - im thinking little sandwiches served on little plates.
And the sweetest bunch of flowers from Mum's garden.

17 September 2009


A soft blue sky and mellow sunshine drew me out 'exploring' this morning. Before too long my explorations were rewarded with the discovery of a narrow track through the bush. The track was edged with young fernlike plants, all fresh and shiny. Some of them unfurling happily as if after a restful sleep. The track led me winding down the hill under a canopy of green and eventually ejected me on the edge of town.

16 September 2009


An image from the 'archives' today.

An image of sorrow, of stillness, acceptance, pain, tenderness, heartache, emptiness, beauty, love, eternity, longing and a thousand other things that there are no words for.

I move in an ocean as smooth and dark as a mirror at night. The cool water carries me. The tide ebbs and flows and all I can do is float with it. Surrender my sadness and allow myself to be suspend in its sorrowful embrace. An embrace both heartbreaking and healing at once.

I am healing. There has been sadness these last few days. My heart has been broken and yet it still beats on. Life is like that I think.

Tonight I'll take strength in my Love's kind eyes, I'll smile in conversation with a friend, I'll take a walk at twilight and savor the bird's last tunes for the day. I'll do it all again tomorrow too.

10 September 2009

Afternoon Tea

I'm sure many a story and a few good bits of gossip have been revealed over these old plates. Little cucumber sandwiches would have been eaten delicately while happy and sad news was exchanged. Home baked Afghan biscuits would have been savoured, crumbs carefully caught and dusted back onto the floral porcelain.

I've been collecting up old mismatched plates for a while now. I'll make several of these cake stands and add my own story to their history when they are used at my wedding in the not too distant future. Looking forward to that.

In a few short hours my True Love and I will be driving off into the sunset (no, not to elope), heading for the beach. Ive been counting down the days with anticipation, waiting for the time when I can escape and do nothing for a few days.

Of course I don't actually mean do nothing. I'll be packing up some art supplies. I have some goals... but more on them later.

03 September 2009


On Monday I told myself if, and only if, I was very diligent in my work this week, I would be rewarded with a trip to the book fair on the weekend. Sometimes a little reward can motivate you to go a long way. I'll head straight for the old book section and make my selection aesthetically.

01 September 2009


After listening to 'This Way Up' a few weeks ago I was inspired to do some food foraging myself. I did some double checking to make sure I wasn't going to poison myself and then headed outside on a mission. Im not sure if you can really call it foraging when all you do is step outside your door and find the nearest patch of weeds only a few steps away, but oh well.

I gathered Chickweed, Onionweed and Nasturtium along with a bunch of 'official' herbs and lettuce leaves from the garden and enjoyed a fresh spring salad. The remaining onionweed flowers looked sweet in a little glass. I shall never buy spring onions again.