Home - getting to the heart of it

The notion of ‘home’ has always fascinated me. I believe it means different things to different people but recently I’ve become a little fixated with getting to the core of what it means for me, right now, at this point in my life.

I’m currently living in my 28th residence. At least, I’m living in the 28th place that I remember being settled in for more than 6 months. There may be one or two more that have been lost in the mists of dodgy or protective memory. One might say that I’ve had 28 homes but that doesn’t feel true to me. Some of these places felt like home, some really didn’t. When I consider what’s made the difference, it has little to do with how big or small they were, where they were in the world or how long they sheltered me. I only counted places I spent more than 6 months. It turns out this is not a useful criterion for me. I’ve felt more at home for one day on a beach or a week in a place with nothing but a suitcase than I have in some of the places that I’ve lived for many years. Sometimes it has to do with who I shared the space with but not always. So what is it that defines home?

So far what I know is:

~ It’s not where I come from although that’s indelibly etched in me.
~ It’s not always where I am, despite what other people say about that.
~ It’s definitely a feeling rather than a place but place is part of it. I sometimes feel very out of place and it’s hard to feel at home when that’s true.
~ It isn’t always where my heart is. My heart is spread across the globe with the people I love.
~ It isn’t always about having my own stuff around me but that helps. Even spreading my own sarong on a hotel bed makes it feel more like home.
~ I carry a little bit of all those other times and places I’ve felt at home with me and sometimes where I’m actually living feels closer to that and sometimes it feels quite far from it.
~ All the places I’ve felt at home have one thing in common - it’s where I’ve felt most comfortable being myself. Fully myself. Outwardly, as much as inwardly. I wish I could say that’s everywhere but it isn’t.

I’ve been musing on this for a while and then I came across this beautiful description which comes close to reflecting what it feels like to me (thank you Robyn Gordon for sharing this)

“The desire to go home that is a desire to be whole, to know where you are, to be the point of intersection of all the lines drawn through all the stars, to be the constellation-maker and the center of the world, that center called love. To awaken from sleep, to rest from awakening, to tame the animal, to let the soul go wild, to shelter in darkness and blaze with light, to cease to speak and be perfectly understood.” 

~ Rebecca Solnit

The desire to be whole. That feels true.

♡

How does your garden grow?

It's no secret to anyone who knows me or has read my blog in the past that I have a dream (dare I say, a plan) to live near the sea again. I find access to the ocean is almost as important to my wellbeing as air and chocolate.

In recent years I've spent a lot of time thinking about what defines my ideal living environment and as I stand on the brink of a new move - the apartment I live in is being sold - I've been revisiting this. The list of criteria is not very long and I'm not sure I'll meet all the conditions in this most imminent move. It remains important to me to keep them in sight though. At the moment the list looks like this:

~ near the sea, preferably within sight and smelling distance (but at most an hour away)
~ no more that 12 hours flying time from my farthest heart-family (and preferably no more than an hour from an international airport)
~ reliable, high-speed internet access (essential to work, contact with the world beyond my immediate borders and Netflix)
~ windows that open (I was recently shown an apartment that, like many hotel rooms, didn't have this option. I was assured that the environment is climate-controlled by air-con but I can't bear the thought!)
~ some outside space (even if only a tiny balcony or access to a communal garden)
~ ready access to public transport or space to store a bicycle (I hate to drive)

During a recent conversation with my sister on the subject, a new criterion crystalised...

~ a place where frangipani and hibiscus thrive

This may be difficult to achieve unless I move a bit closer to the tropics (for at least part of my year) but it is now officially on the list!

Five minute lovely list

Right now I'm enjoying:

~ Taking 5 minutes...

~ Early cherries from Turkey - I love, love, love cherries and they have such a short season. I am at risk of over-indulging.

~ Intermittent sunshine. I wouldn't exactly call it Summer but there have been glimpses.

~ Four wheels on suitcases. Have I mentioned this? Changed my travelling life, bearing in mind that when I'm not on planes I'm mostly on public transport and always my own porter. Seriously, who would have thought those two extra wheels would make such a difference?! Revolutionary!

~ Six days in a row working from home to look forward to. Sleeping in my own bed... what a pleasure.

♥

Home, family, heart stuff...

  

We can only be said to be alive in those moments when our hearts are conscious of our treasures.

Thornton Wilder

(1897-1975)

We gathered on these rocks, where he loved to spend time, as the sun shone on a perfect winter's day and shared our thoughts of Robert, and in that moment when we cast his ashes to the sea, I felt a part of me tear loose and plunge into the waves with him. My family has just become one vital part smaller. The core has been broken. I don’t really know how to process this. And I don't know that the impact of it has fully hit me yet. In fact, I am sure it hasn’t.

Perhaps because I live far away and so I’m used to not seeing him as often, in my heart it feels like he’s still here, doing his usual thing, separated from me now while I’m home by only a mountain range or a local phone call. I still keep expecting to see him walk through the door to join the rest of the family at this gathering; wanting to call him because I’m in town and we should meet up as we normally would. The closeness we shared was not measured by physical proximity or regular face-to-face interaction and so for moments, fractions of moments, as I wake up and at intervals during the day, it all feels normal, like he’s out there still. And then it washes over me again... the shock, the pain, the loss. The truth.

It's brutal.

I was not meant to outlive him. I am completely unprepared for this. I don’t know how to be in a world without him in it.

Rationally I know that this is part of a cycle of which we are all part. I know life goes on. I know from losses suffered in the past (although none quite as close as this) that the raw, unbearable hurt will ease with time and even though it never quite goes away, it becomes more manageable and less like repeated kicks in the solar plexus. I know that it becomes easier to bear. And I need it to be easier to bear because I cannot function normally in this state. But there's also a part of me that doesn't want it to dull. A part of me that wants to keep it, him, fresh and alive in my heart and mind as he still is now. Even if that means that the kicks keep coming. I don’t know how to reconcile this yet.

I like to think that my lovely brother has become pure positive energy, as all that remains of him is what we who love him carry in our hearts and in our memories – the best of who he was and how we feel about him, distilled. He leaves the world better because he lived in it and us, his family and friends, better for knowing him. That’s something remarkable and cannot be said for everyone who passes through our lives. That I was related to him was an accident of birth. That I liked and loved him was entirely because of the person he chose to be. I feel this way about many of my relatives and my sister and brothers especially. I’m fortunate to have had a history with Robert and I treasure it exactly as it is. I wish I’d been able to give him one last hug but otherwise I don’t want to go back and rewrite huge chunks of our story – imperfect as it might be in places, it’s ours. And if even I would like the chance to tweak the storyline, increase the days we spend together and fill the time with only good things, good times, do some things differently, there’s no going back. This I can bear and accept. It’s the missing of him now and in the future that I cannot yet face. The Robert-shaped space in my life feels huge and acceptance of never being in his physical presence again is still not quite within my grasp – my head understands it but my heart has not yet assimilated it. I feel cheated by the loss of time and experiences we might still have had together, the memories we won’t get to make from this point on. I feel lost at the thought of how our family works without him; I keep counting him in. I feel sad that the world is now without the special soul in substance that was uniquely his. I feel angry that he was taken  from us by an indiscriminate illness so soon, too soon. These are the things that kick me with a physical force beneath my ribs again and again and make me cry and cry with the hurt of it.

When I was writing a eulogy for Rob I considered including this quotation from the Roman, Seneca:

"In the presence of death, we must continue to sing the song of life. We must be able to accept death and go from its presence better able to bear our burdens and to lighten the load of others.

Out of our sorrows should come understanding. Through our sorrows, we join with all of those before who have had to suffer and all of those who will yet have to do so. 

Let us not be gripped by the fear of death. If another day be added to our lives, let us joyfully receive it, but let us not anxiously depend on our tomorrows. Though we grieve the deaths of our loved ones, we should accept them and hold on to our memories as precious gifts. Let us make the best of our loved ones while they are with us, and let us not bury our love with death.”

I just went with my own words in the end but I thought that this was a lovely piece and it’s those last thoughts especially that have stayed with me – “Let us make the best of our loved ones while they are with us, and let us not bury our love with death.”

I write about love in this space, where I allow my inner ramblings a voice, quite often, but it’s not something I take lightly. It’s a powerful and precious thing and I know not everyone is fortunate enough to experience it, which makes it something never to be taken for granted. I’m so lucky to love and to be loved and I intend to concentrate even more consciously on making the best of that and on expressing it, openly and without reservation, not necessarily in words but in ways that are unmistakeably loving. During this amazingly difficult fortnight the kindness of people and the importance of love and its expression, in all its various forms, have struck me deeply. In the midst of overwhelming sadness, my heart has been very conscious of its treasures, and those I care for and who care for me are first amongst them.

Thank you to you, lovely online friends and family, whose caring and support have been felt across the miles and through cyberspace and are so much appreciated. I have not yet managed to respond to each message but please know that your kind and thoughtful words have reached me, touched me, helped me. And I am grateful for them, for you.

I’m sitting here now, looking at that view above, as the sky turns soft pink and mellow apricot with the sunset. There’s a lavender haze over the water on the horizon and the lighthouse across the bay has just started to shine. The sea is calm and flat for the first time in days and in the water just to my right, a whale is lazily floating, blowing loudly, and occasionally waving its tail in the air (tomorrow I will share some pictures of the whales with you). I’m alone in the house. It’s peaceful. If places had souls and could be counted as family, this place would be part of mine. As it is, I just call it Home. Being here comforts me. It always has. I’ve been crying as I write this and my heart is full of sadness but there’s a sense of contentment too.

At this precise moment, I cannot think of anywhere I’d rather be.

Colour week - it's a rainbow 'round here

The true harvest of my life is intangible - a little star dust caught, 

a portion of the rainbow I have clutched.

Henry David Thoreau

(1817-1862)

When I daydream about my perfect home it broadly includes a white, light-drenched space with a small lush garden and an ocean view. More often than not it's decorated with lots of natural materials in light neutrals, accented with rich but subtle colours. Strange then that I find myself living in a city-centre apartment, without even a tiny balcony let alone a garden, a view of a city skyline, not a lot of natural light, and decorated in quite dark neutrals and bright jewel colours. And I'm happy here. What both have in common I guess is that they are calm and peaceful spaces that reflect the things and the people I love. If I were living in my dream home I would have posted whites today. But what I see around me is a rainbow. And living in a rainbow is not such a bad place to be.

~ several years ago now I moved to the Eternal City to live for a few years and whilst there I met a kindred-spirit, someone who showed me the ropes, shared her days with me, and gave me some of my happiest and most enduring memories of the place. I had no idea at the time how profoundly this meeting would impact on my life. She and her husband returned to Canada, I went to France and then came to the UK but we remain friends, joined at the heart across the distance. Joined at the heart I like to believe, like the city where we met, eternally. Even at a distance she enriches my life, loves and supports me unconditionally and gifts me with her thoughtfulness and a warm deep wisdom, always when I need it most.  She has also given me some of the things I treasure most and love to have around my home, including this incredible glass colour wheel, made especially for me. When it catches the light, I think of her and the creativity that runs in her veins and the love that she embodies. And it makes me smile. Thank you E.

~ we've already visited my bookshelves once this week and I return to this one now because it's a rainbow of colour and content. My book collection is vast and eclectic. I love books. I enjoy electronic media but I hope we never ever move away entirely from books made of paper and ink. Books that we hold in our hands, that we keep on shelves, that we revisit like good friends for years and years. Those who love books will get this. Those who don't will not. Let's just leave it at that.

~ last night a friend turned thirty and we celebrated with a party where everyone was required to wear a wacky wig. Fancy dress for heads. It was fun - great fun. This gift bag, hanging on my living room door was waiting to leave for the party... where, like it, there was a swirl of rainbow colour and style. I love to wear a party wig and I think that every opportunity to do so should be taken. Wig-wearing releases the alter-egos of people, usually their bolder, sparklier sides, and I love to observe those at play. Mine was red, very bright red, and curly and big. Very big. I was channelling someone who might have hung out with Dolly Parton in her big hair heyday and it was fab. Perhaps I'll model it for red day of our next colour week.

~ There's something magical about a kaleidoscope, isn't there? I'd like to collect them and so far I have two. More than one is a collection, right? This tiny one, a souvenir from a visit to science museum, offers up a rainbow both inside and out. It always makes me smiley.

~ today's breakfast. Breakfast is my favourite meal of the day to eat out - love it - but I'm not always very good about eating it at home. I know that's not good, so since I've moved I'm trying to make an effort to do so more regularly and one of the ways I find makes it easier for me to stick to this resolution is to make it up on a little tray. This morning I started my day with some red berry tea, cereal with milk and a sparkling blue sky - perfect.

And that rounds up colour week. I've enjoyed having the opportunity to look for the colourful comfort and sparkle in my living space. It's interesting to see one's own world through the lens with this kind of emphasis. It's shown me things and made me think about them as I might not otherwise have done. And it's given me something positive and creative to focus my attention on, which is always a good thing and just what I needed. Like Thoreau, I realise that the true harvest of my life to-date is intangible but that the things that surround me remind me of these, and facilitate the creation of them too - love, friendship, fun, learning, contentment... happiness. A rainbow of beauty and emotion. Thank you to lovely Lisa who initiated and hosted our colour explorations and to everyone who popped by to say hello, and who shared the beauty of colour in their worlds for our enjoyment. It has been a pleasure.

A happy, rainbow-filled weekend to you!

Colour week - green, green, where are you?

Every day in colour week up to now I've had an abundance of the colour of the day to photograph in my flat, bearing in mind that I chose to limit my search area to just my apartment living space. Green has definitely been the most challenging so far for me. I'm not sure why. I love green but apparently it's not a colour I love to live with. It appears in little accents all over he place but if you looked at the space, I don't think green would pop out at you. Having said that, once I tuned my eye in to it, there were green bits to be found, especially in the kitchen.

~ the last of an absolutely magnificent arrangement of flowers that a friend gave me when I moved in. It had huge, white, deliciously spicy smelling lilies and softest pussy willow catkins in it. All that remain now are the green bits, including those chartreuse chrysanthemums, which always amaze me with their colour and form. They make me think of fireworks for some reason.

~ more coloured glass, all shiny and pretty on the shelves that are over my sink in the kitchen. The little vintage cruet set is something I bought more for how pretty it is than how practical I imagined it would be, but it turns out it's very useful and adds a lovely shot of colour to a dining table.

~ as I mentioned earlier in the week, I'm not a regular coffee drinker but I always have some in the house for guests and I like to try them out so that I know what I'm serving. This is a new blend that I've not had before and I freely admit that I bought it because it's African, Fairtrade, and has a picture of lush green jungle with gorillas on the packaging. I know the coffee connoisseurs amongst you are probably drawing breath in horror but it's true. Fortunately, it tastes pretty good too. I'm not sure I fully appreciated the butter toffee finish but I would certainly not be too embarrassed to serve it. And I do love the packaging.

~ tea towels. I have many. Once again, I'd probably be accused - not unfairly - of buying most of them 'cause of how pretty they are rather than with pure function in mind, although they seem to manage both quite well. And my friends apparently recognise this in me too because the one on the right travelled all the way from South Africa in a gift, and was made there, like me. I always think that when I read that text on it. The one on the left, came from the States, also from a lovely friend, who knows my colour passions well. I think of them both every time I use these beauties, with love.

~ and here we have... yet again... my quilt. That quilt is going start getting delusions of grandeur, it's made so many recent appearances on this blog. But it is a bit of a star in my life right now, and I am made happy every evening when I crawl in under it. This is a detail from the underside, which includes lovely purples and greens. I like that it's as pretty (albeit quite different) on both sides. I think there's a reminder in this for me, which has something to do with the reason I believe in wearing pretty undies even when no-one sees them, and painting my toenails gorgeous colours even if I'm wearing closed toe shoes. It's something about how even what can't be seem has an influence on how the world feels to me and I like to think that lovely on the inside, or in the bits that we can't see, is as important a part of that (if not more so) as what's on the outside. And I like that to be colourful too. Yeah, I know. It's a bit daft. But it's true.

So the green I sought was found - a little less obvious in the space perhaps but still bringing its own quality of comfort and sparkle into my every day. Thank you green, for subtly adding your value. It's much appreciated.

Can't believe we've almost reached the end of the week of colour it's been a busy week and this fun colour exploration has made it a bearable one. I am slowly making my way around everyone's lovely posts and the flickr group and am just blown away by how much colourful beauty people are finding and how creatively they are capturing it... what a treat.

I hope that wherever you are, and whatever you're up to, you have a very happy and colourful Friday!

♥

Colour week - an evening at home with pleasing purple

Womanist is to feminist as purple is to lavender.

Alice Walker

(1944)

I arrived home from a couple of days away for work last night, dropped my bag at the door and rushed around with my little camera to capture some purple... while I was doing this I noticed that a lot of the purple I have in my space falls clearly into the sparkle or comfort camps. Purple is such a special colour to me (the third of my three faves, along with turquoise and orange) and one that I'm ever and increasingly enamoured with. I even love the words that are used to describe purpley colours: violet, lavender, lilac, plum, thistle, orchid, mauve, magenta, royal, amethyst, wine, aubergine, mulberry... all so deliciously evocative of rich experiences, scrumptious flavours and beautiful scents.

~ it was actually my overnight case that reminded me that I had not collected any purples yet. It's the perfect size for a night away for work, this bag, and although I do have more hard-wearing and practical black luggage because, well, it's practical, I always feel just a little less like I'm walking in Peggy's shoes when I carry the purple bag.

~ swapping my purple suede heels for comfy slip-ons begins the transition into relaxed, at-ease-at-home mode... If I'm not pottering around in bare feet or socks, these are my favourite house-shoes.

~ later, after a nice hot shower, a change into my fluffy robe completes the transformation from at-work me into at-home me. Once or twice a month this all happens before 7pm, and although there's no reason not to do this except convention, I still feel strangely decadent when I succumb to this nursery routine.  Although, now that the days are lengthening into the lovely long evenings we enjoy at this latitude in summer, I'm less inclined to dive into soft warm things as early. Still, sometimes it's as much an inner comfort thing as an outer comfort thing. Know what I mean?

~ I actually own a book called Mauve, a fascinating read for anyone interested in colour and a perfect photograph for today's colour theme. Unfortunately it's not made it out of a box and onto a shelf yet (I've run out of shelf space for the moment and am awaiting the delivery of a few more bookcases before I can finish the unpacking of all my books) so we'll have to wait for another opportunity to see that one.  While I was thinking about that, I popped into my study to fetch something and ended up taking this rather fuzzy picture of the purple books I have on the shelf in there instead. It's a bit disappointing to see that there are so few of them (is purple just not considered a good colour for book covers I wonder? And if so, why?) but I do love the ones I have. I don't know if you're familiar with Barbara Kingsolver's novels? The Poisonwood Bible is probably her most well know and remains on my top twenty best reads list - excellent. The rest are lighter in tone and content but I've enjoyed them too. I admire the easy, conversational and flowing writing style she has. Prodigal Summer is another one that I really enjoyed... Actually, I might dig that out and re-read it to get me in the mood for the great summer we've been promised soon. I live in hope. Of good weather that is.

~ while I was in the study, I stopped to take in a little beaded bauble that I have hanging on a door handle and quite inadvertently caught the lovely purple vase in the background, a beautiful house-warming gift from my landlords. I actually only noticed this when I downloaded the pictures and I know the lighting in this shot's not great at all, but I had to use it - two bits of purple sparkle for the price of one. I couldn't resist.

And that was that, a relaxing cup of tea (chamomile and vanilla, with a spot of honey), and the evening ended... An uneventful but pleasing purpley evening.

And now it's time to start another day... and to keep my eye open for green.

I haven't had a chance to make the rounds of all my fellow colour players yet (am getting really, really, really frustrated with cloud wi-fi internet access, which is intermittent at best in this area, despite being in the city centre, and means the best time for me to be online is apparently between 2 and 4 in the morning - oh how I miss my reliable, anytime, high-speed broadband) but those I have had a peek at are serving up a feast of colour loveliness. I look forward to visiting the rest soon...

Hope you have a happy purple day mes amis!

Colour week - orange sings a happy song

Orange is the happiest colour.

Frank Sinatra

(1915-1998)

Yay for orange day! Orange is oft quoted as being people's least favourite colour but it's one of my three favourite favourites. To me it's vibrant, creative and a colour that sings a bold and happy song.  Which is why it's the colour of my blogging space. I also wear quite a lot of it and it has crept into my home decor too, providing little pops of colour that always lift my spirits. I tend to be drawn towards the richer, golden and amber oranges rather than the bright citrus-y end of the spectrum but wherever it sits in the range, orange makes my heart sing right along with it.

~ open shelves in my new kitchen provide storage for my amber glasses and orange tealights, which make their way down onto the dining table for some meals. I love coloured glass and have a small but precious collection of it - precious only to me, not in actual material value, because for years and years it was a no-go area or one to be argued over. Glass was clear, shirts were white, shoes were black... It's a long story. I won't bore you with it. I just celebrate now that I can have glasses in any colour under the rainbow I like. And I do.

~ I am not a coffee drinker. Tea is my thing. But, whilst living in Italy for some years I did develop a taste for the occasional really good cup of caffè and more especially a little caffè espresso or caffè macchiato. These beautiful demitasse cups and saucers were a gift from a special friend for my fortieth Birthday some years ago.  I love not only to use them when that occasion arises but also to look at them when they are not in use. SO pretty.

~ This little floor cushion in front of the french doors in my living room is one of my favourite spots to sit, especially when the sun streams into the room in the afternoon and creates a sunspot that my feline sensibilities are drawn to. I was hoping to catch it in the sunlight but unfortunately we haven't had any in the past few days, so I'm afraid you'll need to use your imaginations on that one for now.

~ Another section of one of the pinboards in my kitchen. It was not designed to showcase orange, but there it is... in postcards from friends, flyers for upcoming musicalparkpicnic opportunities, an invitation to a wacky wig party that I'm attending on Friday, and even in the sarong that I'm wearing in the photograph of two of my siblings and me on a beach in our home town... happy oranges, all.

~ every girl should have a basic set of tools and these are mine. Thank you Ikea, provider of everything I never know I need until I wander through that marketplace of yours (the orange candle on the coffee table in the photograph above was acquired this way too now that I think about it - that mountain of scented candles near the exit catches me every time). As you can tell, this is not the most sophisticated of toolkits but does most things I need to tinker around with myself and I love that they are encased in orange.

So there we are... orange in my apartment, adding warmth and comfort. Not all there is, but those that popped out when I looked around quickly and a little orange goes a long way. I did look for bits of yellow too - as this is yellow and orange day - but yellow is not really a colour I have in my space... strange.

Off to explore the other colour-weeker's offerings for today. Hope you're having a happy, orangey Wednesday! See you tomorrow for a little purple-shmurple...

Colour week - turquoise brings the beauty of the ocean home to me

Blue, or what I think of as my blue because I have almost no true blue in my personal space, is turquoise - all shades from palest aqua through richest teal. It's one of my three favourite colours and one that never fails to make me calm and happy - the colour of the ocean in all its moods. I have a distinct memory of one of the first times I was encouraged to choose my own clothes whilst out shopping with my mother, who bravely allowed me to have anything I fancied on this occasion. My choices included two pairs of corduroy dungarees - one in deep purple and the other in a lively teal - stylish! Fortunately I outgrew my dungaree love but the colours are still those that I choose today. And the ocean blues overflow into my living space too. In my flat I found many turquoise bits that capture the comfort or sparkle factor I'm seeking out during this colour week. I've chosen just a few...

~ my new quilt as a backdrop for my baby macbook - I love my bed and can spend hours here given half a chance, reading, or blogging, or browsing the net, and of course, sleeping - it is and always has been my most comfortable spot. The computer is essential to my comfort too - a link to the family of my heart, all across the world. I never thought it possible to be so attached to a piece of technology but I do love this little machine and at the end of this week it's having to go in for some repairs 'cause the casing's cracked (hence the tape) from just too much travel and use, which is making me a bit blue.

~ I love how the blinds bend the sunshine and create patterns of light and shadow on this little windowsill collection. The vases are two of my favourites, pretty even when they're empty, and although I'm not really a figurine person, my sister bought me this tiny girl with the blue birds (appropriately called happiness) and I do feel she beautifully captures a moment of joy. I think it's almost impossible to stand in that way, with arms outstretched, palms up and head slightly tilted back and not feel something positive. Try it and see. Or is it just me?

~ glass, plastic, polished wood, silver, mother-of-pearl, agate, crystal - just a tiny selection of the many sparkly bits I have hanging in my bedroom where even when I'm not wearing them, they bring me pleasure. 

~ the glow of candles is essential to my comfort at home and this one in my hallway smells subtly of a summer's day at the beach - gorgeous. The teal framed print in the background is one of my favourite Degas pastels, the original of which I was lucky enough to see in an exhibition some years ago. I'm not sure she's going to live there permanently but that's where she landed on unpacking and she seems happy enough at the moment.

~ A tiny beaded angel dressed in blue, bought in Cape Town at a city centre gallery I went to with my very dear friend, M, when I was last in South Africa. She (the angel that is, not M) hangs on the pinboard in my kitchen and recalls that lovely day, along with souvenirs of other cities I've called home and friends far away. In this shot a ubiquitous Roman fountain and a postcard of Paris - reminders of beautiful places and the beautiful people I met there and who are still in my life, adding comfort and sparkle through their friendship even at a distance.

Can't wait to see what the other lovely colour seekers are offering today in the way of beautiful blues. Have a look at Lisa's sidebar if you'd like a peek too. 

And have yourself a very lovely Tuesday!

Colour week - at home with radiant reds

Red is the ultimate cure for sadness

Bill Blass

(1922-2002)

Sparkle and comfort at home, in red. Day one of colour week.

Red, I've discovered, is the accent colour that links my room's schemes together. Paired with turquoise, or orange, or purple (my three favourite colours), deep and subtle or bold and bright - radiant red is everywhere in my home. In China and parts of India and Africa red is the colour of celebration, symbolising good luck, but in most Western cultures it's associated with danger and masculinity, neither of which seem especially appropriate for my space. I don't know why I'm drawn to it exactly and I know it's not for everyone as a decor choice but, no matter what the shade, it's the colour of strength and fire at the core of my heart and always lifts my spirits.

There was plenty to choose from but yesterday I particularly noticed these bits of brightness as I went about my day...

~ a fragile bauble catching the sunlight and beautiful butterflies from a friend dancing in its glow - I see these first as I open my eyes after my Sunday nap, and every day when I wake.

~ a hand-blown lantern in my living room reminds me every time I pass it of the alluring ancient city where I bought it - and the special time spent there, with three very special people. Good memories.

~ essential kitchen appliances for the production of tea and toast, two of my comfort staples - shiny and new in a cherry hue.

~ a pretty dishcloth makes doing the dishes just that teensy bit more appealing - and helps keep the sink empty, which is how I prefer it.

~ glistening and glittery gifts from loved ones - these casting soft red reflections - surround me and make me smile and sparkle on the inside too...

And so the colour fun begins... for me it's all about home comfort and heart sparkle and I can't wait to check out this evening how my fellow colour week players and our lovely hostess have found and interpreted red in their worlds. It's bound to be a treat.

Happy, vibrant and radiant red Monday to you!
♥

p.s. Lisa has also set up a Flickr group for colour week enthusiasts here

Contemplating colour...

Out and about over the past week I saw in passing a gorgeous window display,
all made out of household cleaning supplies

A chandelier of recycled plastic bottles, a wall of indoor plants,

and a sofa that captured a lovely combination of colour and home comfort

Colour is a power which directly influences the soul.

Wassily Kandinsky

(1866-1944)

I've taken to heart the suggestions of the many lovely souls who stopped by last week and kindly shared their thoughts on what might ease my dealings with the discomfort of change - my constant companion of the moment.  A weekend with plenty of sleep (including two delicious afternoon naps), multiple hot bubbly baths, chat with friends, cups and cups of delicious masala chai, and lo-o-o-o-o-ts of chocolate have definitely all helped me catch up after a hectic and horrible week on the road and left me feeling better set for the week ahead. Other suggestions included doing something arty, making time and space for a little of what I know makes me happy, connecting with kindred spirits, and not thinking too much... sound advice all. Thank you!

Cue the irrefutable queen of colour, the bold and beautiful Curious Girl, who's hosting one of my favouritist favourite blogging events, colour week. Exactly the sort of arty, happy-making, collective, not-in-the-head-but-led-by-the-heart sort of challenge that I need right now - thank you Lisa. We've had such fun with this in the past and I look forward to the same again.  I'm away again for most of this week (and still using random, roving internet connection) so I nearly didn't join the party but, really, who can resist? Not me. So I'm going to give it a whirl and hope I can keep up. Check out Lisa's sidebar for those who are playing along and if you aren't already there and feel like joining in, I'm pretty sure the invitation to this party includes a 'bring a friend, bring several' extension for anyone who wishes to join in the loveliness.

The colour calendar is:

monday, may 17th: all shades of reds (including pink)
tuesday, may 18th: all shades of blues
wednesday, may 19th: yellows and/or oranges
thursday, may 20th: purples
friday, may 21st: all shades of greens
saturday, may 22nd: rainbow/multi and/or whites/greys

To center myself a little more and to challenge myself a little further I've decided to explore colour this week in the light of my guiding word for 2010 and the current focus on my new home... so all my photographs will be taken within my apartment and seek to express either (or both) home comfort and sparkle. Some colours will be much easier to find than others. But that's all part of the fun.

Let the colour celebrations commence....

Hanging in there, hanging around, hanging up stuff...

We are never more than

one grateful thought away

from peace of heart.

Brother David Steindl-Rast

(1926)

Home is a place not only of strong affections, but of entire unreserve; it is life's undress rehearsal, its backroom, its dressing room.

Harriet Beecher Stowe

(1811-1896)

Greetings my friends from planet kendalee where it's been a strange, interesting and sometimes challenging few weeks. I won't bore anyone with all the gory details - suffice to say that after the initial move there have been a few hiccups, which involved having workmen in for a few days, half my stuff in one location and half in another for a while, the logistics of remedying that again, dealing with uncooperative utility suppliers and lots of travelling for work that's meant I haven't been able to spend as much time on the settling in and all that goes with it as I'd have hoped. It's been, and continues to be, a lesson in patience.

Now, almost two weeks later, I still have no internet connection so am having to rely on irregular roving wi-fi when and where I can, which is very frustrating; I'm still working on reducing the boxes, which have been moved here and there and back again; I still have barely any furniture, no curtains, walls that need painting, and there is still only a tiny supply of those kitchen dry goods staples that build up over time and make catering on the fly easy to do, although I do at least have salt and pepper now... 

But, despite the challenges - many of which are just part of the process of moving and nothing unusual - from the minute I first walked through the door, before a single thing was unpacked, this has felt like home. And in between all the above, I've managed to have various people over for dinner, a lovely friend to stay for a few days in not horrendously uncomfortable circumstances, and have kept myself going in to work without it being very obvious that a ladder and work tools have been living in my bedroom and bathroom making the everyday getting ready a bit of a mission what with the dust and dirt and general disarray they bring.

Having said all that, it is slowly starting to take shape around here. Things are emerging and finding their rightful spot, I am becoming familiar with the sounds of the place and tuning out those that felt strange and discordant to begin with, and I'm moving through the space in way that feels comfortable and at ease. Both externally and internally I am unearthing things that have been in storage way too long and it's a process I'm loving. I don't think I'd truly realised how tightly bound I'd been feeling in my previous situation until I arrived here, where I have physical and emotional room to breathe. It's wonderful. And I am very thankful.

Some of my favourite things so far:

~ unpacking bits and pieces and if their placement's not immediately obvious, just piling them up on a shelf or hanging them around the place until the right spot becomes clear. When this happens it produces a small a-ha moment that give me enormous satisfaction. Sometimes new groupings just emerge and are fun to discover.

~ I've always had a bit of a penchant for hanging things - lanterns, mobiles, garlands - and I'm so excited to have the space to have more of these around me again. I'm already imagining new creations I can make...

~ my space can be as colourful and girly as I'd like. I'm not a wildly girly girl, but I've long had to justify things that are purely decorative, always referred to by my ex in an ever so slightly derogatory tone as my 'pretty things'. He also preferred neutrals whereas I love neutrals but cannot resist colour sometimes, and like to ring the changes. More recently, sharing a space with a housemate, there have been natural restrictions and considerations too. It's not a major issue but I love that I don't need to do that right now and can express myself here without reserve. Flowers in every room of the house I say!

~ my new quilt - soft and snuggly fabric, strong and vibrant colour. I'd had my eye on it for a while, it came on sale, and I couldn't resist. It makes me so happy.

~ the afternoon sunshine that streams in through the blinds and front windows, creating pattern and glow wherever it lands. We haven't had much sun recently but when it is out, it makes me smile. It shines through my glass lanterns, stained glass colour wheel, beads, and vases on window sills and lights the place with colour and warmth. Love it.

And now, back to it... boxes await. I have the whole weekend to potter and organise before heading down to London for work again next week. My appearance in the virtual world promises to continue intermittent for a while yet and I apologise for my absence in your spaces, but I'm hoping it won't be for too much longer. I really miss it. And you. Especially you.

Have a lovely weekend lovelies! ♥

Only a few days...

Well, I'm safely moved in and slowly starting to settle - the box mountain is reducing by degrees, there are fresh flowers, and the first guests have shared pizza out of a box with me, so I'm well on my way to it feeling like home. Still no internet connection for a few days though (I'm sneaking this in from work) but as soon as it's in, I'll give you a glimpse and pop 'round to your lovely blogs to say a proper "hi!" and catch up with what you've been up to. I've missed you! In the meantime, thank you for all the warm wishes and have a very happy Monday ♥

Peace - that was the other name for home.

Kathleen Norris

(1947)

The space in between...

Morning

Evening

Well, I think I'm almost there with the packing. The mountain of boxes has grown and the removal van is booked. Only a few last minute things that are still in use to add to the pile. I'm away for work most of this week and when I return, it will be to see these things of mine transferred into their new home. And me along with them. 

So I find myself in that space inbetween - neither here, nor there. It's a strange space to be in. Uneasy, unsettled, a little uncomfortable but full of promise... 

Thank you for travelling this far with me. I haven't been in this online room much of late (not much to pack as I'm taking the whole room with me) but I feel you here - providing moral support, making virtual tea and toast, and offering good wishes for what's to come. And it makes a difference. Thank you!

Have a happy Monday lovely ones.  I'll see you on the other side...

How exciting!

♥

At the heart of it

There is a magic in that little world, home; it is a mystic circle that surrounds comforts and virtues never known beyond its hallowed limits.

Robert Southey

(1774-1843)

Our homes are a reflection of who we are, the place where our story begins and our heart lives. We decorate these physical structures with the things that define us, that we have placed value in, and that we love. Home is where we seek refuge from life's storms. It is where rest, replenishment, and nourishment abound.

Sandra Magsamen
Living Artfully (2006)

We all have within ourselves a blueprint for just the home that will shelter our spirit. This blueprint doesn't deal in design and dimensions; it is the plan for home as a spiritual construct, or that homey sense of safety and belonging that can come with us from house to house and from one phase of life to the next.

Victoria Moran
Shelter for the Spirit (1998)

I've been thinking a lot over the past few weeks about what home means to me. 

For many home is a place they call their own because it is their own, filled with things they own, things they value, where their family is, where they feel connected to their personal history... rooted, settled.  I get this. Strangely, home is none of these things to me right now. I own relatively little, my family live far away, I have only a recent connection to the place I find myself, no significant history to speak of here yet and no intention to stay for good. This new apartment will be the twenty-sixth different place I've lived during the course of my life (only those I remember and where I've been for longer than 6 months qualify) and it probably won't be the last. I know that just the thought of this freaks some people out. But it's true. I know it's a big number and perhaps hard to understand how, but most of them have felt like home. Some more so than others but for the most part, home is where I am. My environment is important to me. It has an impact. I struggle to be happy in an ugly, uncomfortable place. But I can be. I have been. Because home is a feeling. An emotional space.

Having said that, I'm looking forward to making my new home (even if it is only temporary) a physical place that both reflects and shelters my spirit again. 

I'd like it to be calm, comfortable, creative, colourful, casual - eclectic. I'd like it to be a place where I enjoy spending time alone, where my loved ones gather (even if only occasionally), where my few treasures surround me and bring me pleasure, where my heart finds comfort and rest at the end of a day.

What makes you smile when you think about your home? I'd love to know.

(quilt from Anthropologie)

Is there anything more delicious...

...than snuggling into fresh linen, in your own bed?

Sleep that knits up the ravelled sleave of care

The death of each day's life, sore labour's bath

Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course,

Chief nourisher in life's feast.

William Shakespeare

(1564-1616)

O bed! O bed! Delicious bed!

That heaven upon earth to the weary head.

Thomas Hood

(1799-1845)

I shall need to sleep three weeks on end to get rested from the rest I've had.

Thomas Mann

(1875-1955)

After a few nights away, staying in perfectly comfortable but soulless hotel rooms, I always relish coming home to my own space and my own bed. And I hope for sleep. Or a least rest.

I don't have three weeks but I have a good feeling about achieving it tonight...

♥

Welcome October

I'm pleased to see you.

Brief journeys - How walking the city with my eyes closed helps me see it

So, the idea for this week is to close my eyes, point the camera randomly in any direction and take some photographs. I tried this out on my walk home from work yesterday and these are the pictures I took.

What struck me about these (apart from how blue the sky is - it was a really beautiful day) is how obvious it is that I live in a city. Strangely, I seldom take overtly urban images. A city environment is not somewhere I feel particularly at home, although there are many things about living in a city that I enjoy and, having done so for so long, I wonder now if I would truly be able to settle in a country location*. I like the accessibility that city living offers - to restaurants, to theatres, to cinemas, to shops, to travel from here to wherever else I want or need to be. But cityscapes don't really make my heart beat faster. I'm not a city girl at heart. And yet, I really like some of these images.

I like the starkness of the angles against the sky, and the shadows and reflections against city textures. I like how that huge building with the even bigger cranes has grown out of an enormous hole over the past two years (there's as much of it underground as there is above ground) and that I have been able to observe that process on a daily basis. I like that I am surrounded by a modern city that was also at the heart of the European industrial revolution and that the layers of history are evident in the canals I walk every day and the bridges and the railway lines I travel. I love that I can walk to my office most days. And into a huge bookshop on my way home if I want to. There's a lot to recommend it.

But what really makes this city living bearable for me is that which is not city. The details I usually seek out, which speak of what is beyond the city limits: the sky and the clouds when I look up past the buildings, the small patches of grass along the pavements, the trees and other greenery that are in the parks and line the canals I walk, or the sound and reflection of the water on the underside of a bridge...

What I need is a city, with the sea on one side and, preferably, mountains on the other. A green city. Anyone know of somewhere like that, that would make me welcome?

Happy Friday lovely ones!

♥

*I do honestly dream of living on a beautiful island or in a relatively remote spot near the sea but it would need to be attached to the outside world with a fast internet connection, a speedy and reliable postal service, and great travel links so that I could blog, browse, shop online and have my books and goodies delivered daily, and so that loved ones could easily get in to visit me and I could get out just as easily to them, or even to a city if ever I needed a shot of cityness. Oh. And a way of making a living that doesn't rely on me being anywhere geographically specific. What I do now relies very much on my proximity to people. Lots of people. That's my biggest hurdle so far to making the dream come true. So far.

In the meantime, my city and I are bound to each other.