100 Day Project - Day Fourteen

The Story of My Day in Four Acts:

Act One: “I find I am constantly being encouraged to pluck out some one aspect of myself and present this as the meaningful whole, eclipsing or denying the other parts of self.” - Audre Lorde
~
Act Two: “Longing is not conscious wanting; it's an involuntary yearning for wholeness, for understanding, for meaning, for the opportunity to regain or even simply touch what we've lost.” - Brené Brown, Rising Strong
~
Act Three: “To be great, be whole;
Exclude nothing, exaggerate nothing that is not you.
Be whole in everything. Put all you are
Into the smallest thing you do.
So, in each lake, the moon shines with splendor
Because it blooms up above.” - Fernando Pessoa
~
Act Four: “In a flash of wonderment she saw firm, continuous ground under her feet, stretching from back then to right now and on and on as far as her eyes could take her.” - Ann Brashares, The Second Summer of the Sisterhood

Love and Missing

When I was young I didn't understand, but now, I know, how absence can be present, like a damaged nerve, like a dark bird.

Audrey Niffenegger, The Time Traveler's Wife

Easing in...

Normally I give quite a lot of thought to my word for the next year in the months leading up to the end of a year. November, coinciding as it does with the drawing in of the season here in the Northern hemisphere and my Birthday, is usually a time of reflection and introspection and I make a point of thinking about what I'd like in the year to come and how to express that in just one word.

Last year it didn't enter my mind. 2013 was a busy year. A very busy year. I was so wrapped up in busy-ness that the final quarter of 2013 passed in a blur. Lots and lots of doing, not very much reflecting or introspecting, and hardly anything that didn't have the label "work" or "chore" attached. I produced journals galore, filled to bursting with notes - all work related. Travelled far and wide, for work - my one planned social trip for the end of the year, thwarted by a last minute travel snag. Even my photographs were almost exclusively taken at work, of work, for clients. Frankly, boring. It's true what they say about Jack. I was Jack.

I popped out of the end of this and spun into Christmas and the end of the year and then the start of the new year completely unprepared on all, including the word, fronts. I moved around, I saw people, I came home, I fell ill... the days blurred. I emerged, blinking and it is a week into January. I feel like I am playing catch up.

Just before we stopped for the holidays though, a group of colleagues and I spent an hour of our final meeting together each creating a vision-board collage for the year to come. We did it in the time-honoured way... by framing it mentally and then very quickly flicking through a pile of magazines and pulling out images and words, trying not to over-think or consciously choose but to let them choose us, before arranging and gluing them on a poster-board and sharing our initial thoughts on what they represented with each other. I can be a bit of skeptic about some of these "profound" activities being crammed into business meeting agendas but I've found this rapid-fire graphic visioning practice quite useful in the past and was again struck by how powerful a visual technique can be for revealing what words sometimes just don't make as clear on their own. What emerged for me is in the top picture. I was very interested in how they turned out across the group (different motivations and aspirations reflected very clearly in each person's board) and afterwards thought how apt it was that the only picture I'd taken of mine was taken against (and in contrast to) a grotty hotel carpet.

When I finally started to think about my word for 2014 last week, there were several that floated to the fore. Nourish, flourish, bloom, savour, even luxuriate, all tried out. All good words and definitely what I'm hoping for in the year to come but none of them quite right. I think what they collectively suggest is a desire for continued expansion and growth but not in the form of frenetic, hugely challenging, mostly exhausting and often anxiety provoking movement and change (which is what this past year's been all about), but rather a slowing down to allow for something deeper to evolve and something more soul-full and un-rushed to emerge; a gentler pace, inner and outer space to breathe and stretch and feed myself well - literally and metaphorically, simple but abundant pleasures, meaningful connections, calm and confidence and contentment on the inside that matches what I project on the outside. And then it came. The word. Ease.

Ease. Like a sigh.

Like the feeling I always enjoy when I spend time consciously, slowly and deeply, savouring every moment - either alone or alongside loved ones... Ease.

It conjures for me the whisper of wind through grass and trees, the shush of ocean waves on the shore, and the soft scrunch of bare toes on beach sand. Dynamic but gentle: a sense and rhythm of ease.

Wouldn't it be great if I could experience that even in the midst of my everyday everydayness with its ongoing busyness, challenges, grotty hotels carpets and all? So that's what I'll be seeking, learning to create, focussing on establishing....

When I looked it up in the dictionary this is what I found:

Ease [eez]
Noun
1. freedom from labour, pain, or physical annoyance; tranquil rest; comfort
2. freedom from concern, anxiety, or solicitude; a quiet state of mind: to be at ease
3. freedom from difficulty or great effort; facility
4. freedom from financial need; plenty
5. freedom from stiffness, constraint, or formality; unaffectedness: ease of manner

Verb (used with object), eased, eas·ing.
6. to free from anxiety or care
7. to mitigate, lighten, or lessen
8. to release from pressure, tension, or the like
9. to move or shift with great care
10. to render less difficult; facilitate

Synonyms
1. repose, contentment, effortlessness. Ease, comfort refer to a sense of relaxation or of well-being. Ease implies a relaxed condition with an absence of effort or pressure: a life of ease. Comfort suggests a sense of well-being, along with ease, which produces a quiet happiness and contentment. 2. tranquillity, serenity, calmness, peace. 5. naturalness, informality. 6. comfort, relieve, disburden, soothe. 7. alleviate, assuage, allay, abate.

And when I look at my vision board again I see it there too, in so many forms. Calling to me.

Ease. Like a sigh.

Yes, thank you. That will do nicely.

And so the year begins for me. Today. Happy New Year!

For the love of painting...

If you hear a voice within you say "you cannot paint", then by all means paint and that voice will be silenced.

Vincent van Gogh

She preferred the quiet solitary atmosphere, to create in her own world of paint and colour... How satisfying it was to mess around in paint gear, without having to worry about spills, starch or frills, that was the life!

E.A. Bucchianeri, Brushstrokes of a Gadfly

Writing, painting, singing - it cannot stop everything. Cannot halt death in its tracks. But perhaps it can make the pause between death’s footsteps sound and look and feel beautiful, can make the space of waiting a place where you can linger without as much fear. 

For we are all walking each other to our deaths, and the journey there between footsteps makes up our lives.

Ally Condie

A painting was a translation of the language of my heart.

Amy Tan, Saving Fish from Drowning

If you could say it in words, there would be no reason to paint.

Edward Hopper

Paint + Time + Losing myself in it = Bliss

Unrolling rainbows

Last year, as a Birthday gift to myself, and inspired by this beautiful book, I signed up for a painting class.

I've always wanted to draw and paint. Or at least, for as long as I can remember. Art was not my recognised "thing" growing up though and when I was in my early thirties, I took myself off to my first art class since primary school.  I was following a quiet but insistent voice that had become harder and harder to ignore. I loved attending at first, being exposed to the creativity of others and having space to dabble in my own drawings and paintings, although my lack of skill felt frustrating and limiting. To be expected, I told myself. I'd never had any training. It would come. My art teacher - a lovely, professional fine-artist - worked hard to encourage me and provide me with technique. I practiced. My skills grew but not in line with my hopes (and expectations). I really struggled to turn out realistic and recognisable shape and form, to master shadowing and perspective... I never really did. I still haven't.

It became a sometimes painful undertaking. What started as a joyful exploration turned into an energy-draining exercise. I accepted that my creativity's not likely to be expressed in a beautifully executed charcoal/pencil drawing or a superbly controlled watercolour, how ever much I might admire these. I was disappointed with myself. I accepted that I'd perhaps not master the proper proportions of the human form within this lifetime. Stick people still challenge me. We worked on small canvases with limited palettes because materials were expensive and I was not brave or bold enough to venture beyond this format. 12"x18" is still the largest I've ever tackled. I made the mistake of sharing my fledgling attempts with someone whose opinion I valued (not sure why with hindsight) and he was even more critical of them than I. I became disheartened. The harder I tried, the less satisfying it felt and the more tightly wound and less associated with joy the whole process became for me. I stopped looking forward as much to going to class. When I changed countries, I was sorry to leave it behind but I haven't attended one since. Eventually, I stopped painting altogether, even in private. I wanted to master the rules before I felt I could legitimately break them. After all, Picasso and Kandinsky painted the most exquisitely realistic portraits and landscapes before adopting their distinctive break-out styles.

To put this in some realistic context too: I come from a family of wonderfully talented creative souls - many of whom do have artistic educations and amazing skills. That can be a pretty intimidating. Not that they've ever suggested my efforts are less worthy but I could see the difference. I compared myself and came up wanting. Rationally, I knew I would not catch up. Emotionally, that left me feeling inadequate.

But... the urge to paint remained. And I have changed. Am changing.

I don't have the time now or (more honestly) the inclination to practice drawing finely wrought and detailed botanical studies before I move onto expressionistic versions, like a Monet waterlily.... I might never create something that anyone else will even recognise as a specific flower species, however abstract. I can practice, I can improve. But it's not the thing for me. I'm just not that kind of artist. And... that's okay. More than okay.

Self-evident one might think but it took me a while to truly accept this.

It goes deeper than just being unable to catch up on a painting boat I missed in youth too. This is something I've only properly come to understand in the past few years and applies to my life in general, hence the changes I've made over the past year to my career path. Pursuing one's inclinations, being true to type* sometimes at least, is a good thing. In painting specifically, this reveals itself if I do manage to ignore the loud and critical voices in my head in favour of the quieter deeper whispers, which does happen occasionally. I'm actually much happier (and always have been, I now recognise!) when I just smoosh paint around and don't worry about what it's going to be at the end, how polished the technique is, or who will approve of it. Contrary to my early thoughts on the subject, liking my own creations and enjoying the creative process is not so much about being able to convert what I imagine in advance or what I observe in the real world into something detailed or recognisable on paper or canvas. It's about expressing mood. And playing with colour. And revelling in abstraction and symbolism. I felt this instinctively all those years ago but rationalised it (my habitual mode) as lack of talent or, perhaps worse, to excuse my lack of effort and commitment to practice. I don't mean to suggest that I'm now a Picasso or a Kandinsky in the making but if I pick my medium appropriately, I'm more likely to approach the range they had... and that pleases me. Photography allows me to capture the representative images that I cannot draw or paint.  And even then, I naturally tend towards the evocative rather than the journalistic... I understand better why this is now.

I still wish I could draw and paint well (i.e. realistically) and there's always likely to be something of a tension because I'd like to be accomplished in this way. I acknowledge now though that's mostly because there's satisfaction (and ego and pride) for me in learning to do things "well" and being able to demonstrate that. In this case though it's both counter-intuitive and counter-productive. I'm still working through this but I'm learning to listen in to the quieter voice, to trust it more. And I'm consciously looking for ways to create space for it to breathe and grow. So, to my choice of painting class... (I know, long way 'round to it or what?!)

I've been hankering after this class (or one like it) for ages and believe that the approach we'll be exploring, as demonstrated by our lovely guide, Flora Bowley, will encourage and enable my intuitive-colour-smooshing-happy-to-see-what-emerges artist to fully embrace and enjoy the process. We'll be working on huge (by my standards) canvases and using lots of colourful acrylics, which I'm told are very forgiving of a lack of practiced technique. Flora encourages her students not to entertain the notion of "mistakes" and to start, not with the end in mind, but to set aside expectation and to work with what emerges.... I think this will be freeing in all sorts of ways for me. I'm hoping that it will enable me to release a lot of the this residual painting-is-for-real-artists-and-I'm-not-one baggage and to escape into that colourful, creative flow I love, more often... not to mention, providing an antidote to the stresses of everyday work and the relentless grey of winter. I'm a bit nervous and I know I'll be challenged by it - the habits of a lifetime are hard to unlearn and the inner critic hard to silence - but mostly, I'm very excited.

We started today, with some thoughtful intention setting. Tomorrow we put paint on canvas. Yesterday, as I was getting the materials and space ready, I ended up testing some colours on my dropcloth. I also painted my toenails in honour of the occasion and, because I couldn't choose between turquoise and purple, I used both. After all, what does it matter? There are no mistakes and it's what felt right at the time. They make me happy. As does the rainbow underfoot....

I am ready.

*It's interesting (well to me it is - I'm fascinated by what makes people, including me, tick) because some of the pieces of this puzzle really fell into place for me when I undertook my MBTI practitioner training a few years ago. I'm what's identified as an -N-P type. I'd known that for many years before (I was "typed" on two previous occasions by employers) but the implications of it were not fully clear to me until I studied the tool and dynamics of preference in more depth. My academic and corporate experiences have provided me with useful skills (even habits) for working well (if not always satisfyingly) in a predominantly -S-J business environment but, when it comes to art... it really doesn't work for me. I don't enjoy it and I don't experience much benefit from it. As described above, it disengages and paralyses me instead.

The way I perceive, process and communicate information and operate most effectively is when I'm called upon for (w)holistic insight and behaviours unconstrained by too much convention and control. 

As an N, I'm stifled by lots of detail - more at home in the realms of abstraction, the conceptual, and big-picture connections. I'm the person in a group who may not recall facts and figures or concrete details but will distill patterns and trends, capture the gist, or synthesise meaning. This can infuriate my (unaware) S counterparts because it might seem like I'm forgetful, or just can't be bothered to take notice and remember. But it's not that at all. I am observant. I use my senses just as keenly. How I typically experience, apply, recall and share that input differs from the way someone with an S-preference typically does. And it has its uses. I'm not the person you want as a witness to a crime though - big, dark, with four wheels is probably as much as I'll have noticed about the getaway vehicle...

Thanks to my P preferences, I'm also quite comfortable in a nebulous, option-laden and emergent situation. I enjoy seeing how things unfold, going with the flow, rather than following an organised plan to a predetermined outcome. Not a preference I can afford to bring to complex project management situations (and I thank my -S-J learning in these situations) but that I like to follow when I learn or travel for pleasure, for example. And, if not something to be explored and given free rein in art, then where? This time, I believe I'm exploring an -N-P-friendly creative process. It'll be interesting to see what happens.

In the meantime

It has been about a month since I returned to the UK. A long month. A short month. Strange how elastic time feels for me at the moment.

I went away to find space. And I did. Both internally and externally, there was expansion. As a result, so much has changed. Is changing. I'm still processing a lot of this but it's fair to say that as my sabbatical draws to an end, things have been set in motion that mean life-after-sabbatical will be very different. I'm trusting that it will be better, fuller, richer - in all the ways that are important to me - but I know that it will certainly be much harder before that is true.

In the meantime, life continues, not quite normal and yet, in some ways, very. It's good to be back in familiar space and I need to be here to make the changes and make them stick. But it's not all a good thing. It's been disturbing and unpleasant to feel the tug back into the sludgier aspects of the everyday I left behind.

There are many reasons for this and I was naive to think it would not happen. Actually, I didn't think about it at all. It did not occur to me. That was a mistake. I've realised that it will be a project in itself to preserve the clarity. To deal with the practicalities whilst keeping a sense of the possible. To hold the space and, at the same time, narrow the focus. And to do it alone.

Escaping the city with a friend, even for a few short days, has helped. She too is going through some significant personal and professional changes and needed some space and support. So we went south. To the sea. We walked, we talked, we plotted and planned. We ate good food, we soaked in the art and we breathed in the salt. We stared at the horizon and we watched the gulls dive and soar against a deep and very unBritishlyblue sky, which showed itself on more than one day in three, something that I took as a sign in itself. We worked together in the sunshine to draft ideas for her projects into something slightly more concrete. It was good.

As for me... I sat there, with my toes in the sand and the sun on my shoulders and I was reminded not to let go. Not to let the fear overcome me. To keep hold of my heart and to maintain the momentum. However hard it gets... in the meantime.

Sabbatical skies (three)

I could never stay long enough on the shore, the tang of the untainted, fresh and free sea air was like a cool, quieting thought.

Helen Keller

(1880-1968)

Spending my week here... in one of those seafront apartments, visiting one of my lovely aunts. The apartment is up high and has a view like a living painting - ever-changing and absolutely beautiful. But even more amazing is what's inside the apartment.

My aunt is someone who fills some of my earliest, and some of my most recent, creative memories. She is an artist and a nurturer of artistic spirit: a skilled and experienced educator who has always valued and made time for creative pursuits and encouraged her daughters and nieces to do the same. Over the years she's supported our dreams, honoured our achievements, helped us stitch up the pieces of our broken hearts, and believed in us even when we were unable to believe in ourselves. And always, no matter what, art's been the way we've processed the stuff we're working through together.  Art as therapy. Art as celebration. Art as soulfood. Art for pleasure and art for pain. No emotion or medium has been unexplored.

These days she expresses herself by creating the most amazing quilts; quilts that tell personal stories and are exquisite artworks wrought in fabric, designed with talent and sewn with love. And she does it here, in this apartment overlooking the bay. The place is a jewel-box of beautiful fabrics, works in progress, inspirational materials and creative energy. I love it. And I love spending time there, with her.

It's going to be a good week.


[photographs taken by my sister on a recent drive around the coast]

Expansion and contraction

It’s a weird sensation, being relieved of pressure that was so much a part of the everyday that now it’s finally lifted, I’m feeling freer than I have in many, many years but am also strangely unnerved by the weightlessness, by the lack of boundaries.

As I move through these first days of my sabbatical leave, surrounded by the beauty of African landscapes; distant horizons and those huge skies I’ve craved; pure air that smells of heat and salt; the hum of breezes through grass, singing crickets and the shush of the sea; stars that go on and on… and in the company of people who allow me to just be amongst them without expectation of daily performance, I find that I am moving between moments of deep elation and undeniable trepidation.

I want to dance and float and bounce and sing and laugh out-loud. I’m not really known as a dancy, floaty, bouncy, singy, laugh-out-loud kind of a girl. Not because I don’t feel these things (or even do them) but because I'm most true to myself in this way on the inside, or when I’m alone, or with the very few individuals who get close enough to see past the reserve. If ever there was a time and place to be like this though, inside or out, it must surely be now? I feel sometimes completely high on the freedom of the weeks that stretch ahead and the pleasure of the here and now. It’s intoxicating.

And still, I’m held back by something that doesn’t completely trust this state yet and is unsure how to use it best, or to surrender to it. I feel ill-equipped now to deal with the properly integrated, dancing girl, although I know that the purpose of this exercise is precisely to (re)discover her. I find my eyes filling with tears because the emotion is just too big to be contained – relief, gratitude, love, calm, contentment, anticipation, excitement… they all race through me. And also, fear. It creeps up on me, takes a bite out of the experience and makes me shrink back. I worry about things that should not be of concern right now, things I cannot control or change - people I’ve left behind, what the distant future holds… the responsibility of using this freedom most responsibly and wisely. I find these things surfacing and inhibiting my ability to be fully, unreservedly and joyfully in the moment.

Or is it just habit? I have been operating under sway of my Peg persona for so long now that she’s reluctant to let go and the others are struggling to take their turn. The cautious reservation and focus that has been necessary to drive me through the past few years, and especially the final six months, has become deeply ingrained and it’s surely natural that only a week and a bit after landing on this side of the Equator, I’m still bound to some extent by these habits? By a need for them to feel normal, until the boundaries of normal redraw themselves and I adjust to those? I don’t want normal to be normal anymore but the change feels strange and yes, scary. I don’t know. I’m trying to just go with it. Observing myself. Attempting not to over-analyse (although it is in my nature to be future-focused and meaning-seeking and I cannot deny that either so I’m not over-analysing the need to over-analyse) and just see where the tides of thought and feeling take me. I am looking out, beyond myself. And I am looking in, within myself. And both of those seem right.

I can say that, after a blissful week in the African bush, yesterday walking along the shoreline in the sunshine, watching a pod of playful dolphin and a surfer swim by just beyond the breakers, and the banana and cinnamon waffle I enjoyed (when a salad might have been the more sensible choice) were all moments that left me feeling nothing but happy, expanded and expansive. My other alter-egos all came just a little bit closer to the surface, and it was good to feel them there, uncurling and stretching awake. Peg had to let go and let her sisters out for while.

I’m sure they’ll be coming out to play more and more…. they never can resist the dolphins!

What works...

There is only one success – to be able to spend your life in your own way.

Christopher Morley

(1890-1957)

I love working from home. Everything about it. Especially on Mondays.

Thankfulness, every day - Eighteen

Unexpected rainbows. Always thankful for those.

Thankfulness, every day - Seven

I don't own a television. I haven't had one for nearly two years now and honestly, I don't miss it. There are other ways to catch up with the news headlines and anything else can be seen when it's released on dvd or via one of the various iplayer options. I find that there's very little that I can't wait for and that I now only watch what I really want to and am less tempted into sitting on the sofa and flicking aimlessly through the channels. 

There's been one thing recently that I really have become hooked on though and looked forward to seeing every week. In the tradition of Gosford Park and Cranford, set in the  beautiful Edwardian era and sumptuously produced, Downton Abbey is great brain candy TV. Absolutely perfect for a Sunday evening, it creates a lovely bridge into a new week and prevents me checking out of weekend mode too early. And for that, I am thankful.

It's a blue sky day

I thank you God for this most amazing day,

for the leaping greenly spirits of trees,

and for the blue dream of sky and for everything which is natural,

which is infinite, which is yes.

e.e. cummings

(1894-1962)

There is one spectacle grander than the sea, that is the sky;

there is one spectacle grander than the sky, that is the interior of the soul.

Victor Hugo

(1802-1885)

If the sight of the blue skies fills you with joy, if the simplest things of nature have a message that you understand, rejoice, for your soul is alive.

Eleanora Duse

(1858-1924)

Amazing what a difference a bit of blue sky can make to how I feel. It always strikes me. And today the sky is blue, blue, blue.

Wishing you a happy blue sky Monday too!
♥

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

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)

Where wild ponies wander...

...and violets bloom

I've spent the past three days mostly tucked up on my sofa getting over a bit of a lurgy that I think was activated by an abundance of rain and fresh air, although they felt nothing but invigorating at the time. The scent of sea, gorse, bracken, rain, moss, earth, and yes, wild violets in both violet and white (quite rare now to find growing in such healthy quantites), lingered in my memory while my actual olfactory faculties were not functioning at all well for a few days.

I hate to admit that I've turned into one of those wimpy, can't-take-any-real-weather, city girls so am just going to claim that I chose to extend my down-time by a few extra days, which is partially true too. Although I could probably have done so without the bug, it was nothing dreadfully bad and it has just given me even more excuse not to move very far or very fast or do very much at all. I have made a somewhat feeble start on my packing (four or five boxes and hardly a dent made) but mostly it's been more reading, snoozing, and dreaming of how I might organise my new space when I move at the end of the month. My head felt like it was full of cotton-wool for a bit, granted, but in a bizarre way, it was almost pleasant. I took the opportunity to be thoroughly lazy. And reclusive. I switched off my cell phone for three entire days (literally cannot remember when I last - if ever - did that) and did not go online much either. This, combined with the time in Devon when I had neither cell signal or internet access for most of the time, probably constitutes the longest period in about ten years that I've been that technologically disconnected from the outside world.  It was actually a relief and I think I might do that more often (without the head-cold or the laziness).

Only a few days of my leave left now and (despite last minute alterations to plans) I'm focussing hard on how lovely and long and relaxing it's been (and will be yet, until Wednesday) rather than on how quickly it has passed and how anxious I start to feel at the prospect of returning to the mania of my workaday life. I've always been sure that if I won humungous amounts of money on the lottery (the only way I imagine I'll ever be in a position to even contemplate a work-free lifestyle) I'd continue to work because it gives meaning and purpose to my life (and it does, both) but these days I confess I would be quite happy to find meaning and purpose elsewhere if only I could find a way to make that work too. Part of this is about me drawing stronger boundaries where I am so that I do not become so drained but I'm a go-with-all-your-heart sort of a girl (and always will be) and I think the anxiety has more to do with my heart not being all there anymore, which means work feels more demanding than nourishing now, regardless of how much or how little time I'm there or how much or how little effort I expend there. This past fortnight has truly crystallised this for me and I'm more determined than ever to free myself up for that sabbatical next year so that I can explore some alternatives. Or to win the lottery. Either will serve my intentions.

In the meantime, mes amis, the current holiday continues for a little while. I have a very special city adventure planned for Tuesday (which I will share on my return) and I hope this finds you enjoying some relaxing, soul-replenishing time too.  If it includes the scent of the sea, or rain on rich earth, or wild violets, or steaming honey, ginger and lemon (which today I can happily smell again), or something that  makes you happy (as these do me), so much the better!

♥

Share the lovely as you find it

ishtar olivera's crafts

A friend who knows how much I luuurve a creative course gave me a voucher for my Birthday last year towards one of my choosing, and I chose one by Holly Becker of decor8 and Leslie Shewring of A Creative Mint called Blogging Your Way. Leslie takes beautiful photographs and I've long been an admirer of Holly's lovely blog so fancied seeing what I could enjoy learning from those who have clearly mastered the blogging business.

Both Holly and Leslie shared generously and warmly of their talents and experience. It's not a technical course (although Holly's husband, Thorsten, was on hand to help those who had fundamental technical questions) but is aimed at encouraging students (over 200 of us) to think about what our blogs mean to us and what we want from them, how we express ourselves or might like to express ourselves, and the look and feel that best represents this for each. All of this was good and, mostly importantly, it reconfirmed that my little blog space fits me and represents me well, that the people I connect with in it are relatively few in number but oh so special to me and that I love it just the way it is. It did inspire me to finally find out how to make several of the little template tweaks I'd been wanting to do for ages and my new banner and a few layout changes are the result of this.

Holly is first and foremost a consummate professional blogger and lots of the great advice she offered was aimed at assisting those seeking to maximise their readership numbers, showcase their creations and inspirations, take advantage of social networking opportunities, or promote their businesses to do so more effectively. All this whilst remaining true to who they are. My blog is really about none of those things except the last, so I admit I often felt a bit like the odd girl at the party. This is no reflection on the course, I was comfy in that space.

For me one of the very best things about the whole experience was being introduced to some great blogs that I might not otherwise have encountered and engaging directly with some of my classmates, many of whom are very accomplished bloggers and delightful people. Sadly, I was not able to devote as much time as I might have liked to browsing and participating in all the forum chat but all in all I was more than satisfied with what I gained from the experience. In the final two weeks we were divided into smaller groups and asked to work together to support each other in achieving what we'd each set out to do. And finally, we were asked to select just five new favourites to share.

Well, those of you who've been visiting for a while know it's very difficult for me to choose favourites and I could not possibly choose just five in my own group (I'll post that list another day), so I went outside it... and these are my choices:

ishtar olivera :~ possibly one of the sweetest, most whimsical banners I've seen, as are Ishtar's beautiful illustrations. The image above is taken from one of her lovely crafty posts and her Flickr stream is well worth a browse... so pretty.

Lilie Green :~ beautiful, eclectic content, gorgeous look and feel and a self-confessed lover of sparkle... who can resist? Lilie is a jewellery artisan who has a sweet Etsy shop, a lovely About page and a great regular column called Green Loves amongst lots of other loveliness.

draw!pilgrim :~ Pilgrim is a graphic designer with a gorgeous, vintage inspired and very distinctive style, who lives in one of my favourite cities in the world, Melbourne. She does a great weekly visual roundup, and shares some of the beautiful corners of her home. So different to my own aesthetic (although she does share my love of purple nailpolish) but such lovely, lovely stuff... I'm sold.

flowing moments :~ Nathalie's beautiful images and calm, quiet space along with her lovely friendly warmth, draw me in and invite me to linger. She lives in Bordeaux in France, loves the ocean and the seashore and "the beauty and poetry"around her. It shows.

Jane Davenport :~ Jane's profession is surely one of the most unusual on the planet. She's an Artomologist. In fact the only, and therefore leading, Artomologist in the world. Let's just say that it probably needs to be seen to be understood but her lovely sense of humour, absolutely fantastic photographs and beautiful artwork are all reasons to visit, even if she didn't have a column called 'Sects in the City. I dare you to resist a peek...

Quite a mixed bag but I looked through each and every blog on that list of over 200 and these were definitely my five favourite not-in-my-group-new-to-me finds. I hope you might enjoy them too. 

And I also hope you have a very happy Monday!

Blue sky wishes

The top photograph I took yesterday morning and the bottom one, my sister took a while ago. I always think of her when I see these wispy wings in the sky. Today, I'm thinking of her.

And today, into the beautiful blue sky that we share, I'm sending up a wish... to make another wish come true. I need my new passport to arrive this week or I will not be attending this. Something I have been looking forward to for almost a year.

It's not something I can control and I have not given up hope but I'm sending up a wish nevertheless... there's no harm in it, is there?

What are you wishing for this week?

Whatever it is, I hope it comes true.

And I'm wishing for you, a very happy Monday!

♥

Let the majority rule...

Framed?

Unframed?

In the spirit of democracy and as I've been dithering about it and simply cannot choose for myself because I like both for different reasons, I'd like to enlist your help in deciding how to present photographs here from now on, and I'll go with the majority vote. I quite liked the look of the framed version of my recent inspiration board and I wondered if I might extend it to all my pictures. Or most at least, as at some point I might change it up again. I really appreciated your thoughts on the larger size, which I'm enjoying, but which of these formats do you prefer? The framed or unframed versions?

I tend towards a preference for quite a lot of white space but I appreciate that I work on a little 13" Macbook so what I see will be different to what many of you might be looking at.

I've been tinkering around with the look and feel of my little blog space over the past few weeks and although it's hardly a dramatic overhaul, I have finally made a few updates I've been wanting to try for a while - inserting post dividers; tidying up the sidebar; putting up a menu linked to some pages where I can record and access some of my favourite quotations more readily; working out how to tweak the HTML to create a background for the entire space; creating some linked images out to other spaces like my Flickr favourites and my other little blog project... and it's been fun playing around with it. I can't explain how excited I was when I actually managed to figure out the HTML for removing the border on my header - it's a little bit sad really - I'm so untechy and easily thrilled when I learn something new.

Anyway, I think I'm quite happy with it (although, as always, I'll need to live with it for a bit to be sure and am delighted to have your feedback either way) but now I'm at that crucial point I sometimes reach with my paintings, where I'm not entirely sure whether to fine-tune just a fraction more or leave well alone. And I simply can't decide about this photo format thing. I appreciate it's hardly going to upset the universal balance either way but if you feel inclined to chime in, I'd value your input... otherwise, it may just be decided on a coin toss. So, what do you think?

Unframed?

Framed?

These pictures were taken recently - the top set at a local art gallery, where I go for tea quite often. They have a tiny but lovely collection of iron and bronze works, including the little study of Eve by Rodin (bottom centre of the mosaic) who looks a bit like I feel on a Monday morning. And the bottom one taken on an early morning crossing into the City over London Bridge looking east towards Tower Bridge and a wintry sunrise, a view which makes a Monday (or any day of the week) feel just a little bit better.

It's been great to read the lovely lists of what you were up to at the weekend and although it hardly feels like I've had a pause to speak of and here we are at Monday again, there's no stopping the march of days, so, deep breath and off we go again.... 

Wherever you are and whatever you're facing this week, I wish you a happy one!

♥