Monday, 15 October 2018


wandering the streets of Arezzo,
the suprise of Dolce & Gabbana 
in one of the rooms at a local museum,
the chatter from the open windows of a tiny restaurant packed with locals
 streaming down a tiny alleyway,
always a good sign when trying to decide where to eat.  


Monday, 8 October 2018


beginning the week with a moment of peace.
daughter sniffling with her cold,
husband working from home today,
the gentle rhythm of the washing machine,
a call that got me excited,
another coffee on the boil.

a constant hunger for beauty,
to learn,
abstract images in my head
yearning to see the light of day. 
it creates a sort of ever-present longing
that, I've come to see,
 doesn't have to be tormenting
but can be cherished.  
it keeps you alive & curious.

here's wishing you a good week ahead.


Friday, 28 September 2018

Saturday, 15 September 2018



white lace curtains blowing in the gentle breeze,
carrying the scent of the sea.

the owner with her floaty red hair
& stories of her grandmother.
she & her sister were identical twins 
who when they reached the age of 102
became the oldest identical twins in the world at the time,
& newspapers came over to write.  

stories of the most alluring white villa in the neighbourhood
with a glass veranda overlooking the sea
that now stands empty & deserted.
the owners of this lovingly restored manor just a stone's throw away
are doing everything in their power to save it. 
i will watch that space
& have enormous respect for those who take these old houses
& breathe new life into them. 

all pictures were taken at Kvarnbo Gästhem
on the Åland Islands this summer.


Sunday, 9 September 2018


for the first week,
we stayed bang smack in the countryside,
a handsome row of cypresses leading to our home away from home.
Asciano was the closest town,
Siena a short drive away,
so that's where we began our explorations.

something inviting about the simplicity of the church in Asciano, I thought.

we'd seen Siena already before.
it's where many years ago,
my husband blurted out
'if we ever have a daughter,
we should call her Sienna.' 
now we got to show our daughter Sienna
her namesake city for the first time.

Siena basking in an evening glow.

our base was pretty lovely with its antique beds
& cool white sheets.
Patti Smith's Devotion and a glass of chilled white wine
was the perfect riposo recipe.

more to come...


Saturday, 1 September 2018


"Italy Stories, a beginning"
have been staring in the face over the last few weeks.
There's plenty more on those lines to share right here,
but things have been, well, a bit hectic.
Hectic but serene at the same time.

You see, 
a huge project fell through,
a project that I was already stressed about during the summer holidays,
and this turn came as a relief I have to say. 
Plenty of better things were waiting around the corner,
a number of smaller gigs that happened to fall around the same time.
Much nicer ones than the one I was sort of dreading.
And I've learned something in the process,
something of trust,
swearing under my breath not to say 'yes' to the wrong things
the next time round,
even in a moment of despair.
And although it's been mad busy,
there's been a sense of new things on the horizon,
an autumm, which awaits like a journal,
the first pages leaving a little breathless,
but beyond, pages inviting in their exquisite promise of unknown opportunities.

This weekend I've also said my goodbyes.
The workspace I've had the pleasure of winding my way to
on and off over the last few years
awaits its new, wonderful tenants. 
A creative couple I admire so brought in their cardboard boxes,
a huge painting wrapped up and leaning against those windows I loved so,
as I left my key on the table & closed that door for the last time. 
Although the goodbyes are bittersweet,
I know this is how it's meant to be. 

The roses might be nearly gone,
but there are plenty of flowers in this season.
A little odd in their beauty sometimes
& wonderful all the same. 
Treasures in the shadows
waiting for us to take notice.


Tuesday, 7 August 2018


not quite knowing where to begin,
I'll begin at the beginning.

a simple, one-night stopover just outside Rome
after flying in in the afternoon
with the plan to carry on to Tuscany the next day. 
Bracciano was the name of the town 
we ignorantly knew nothing about.

we found ourselves in the middle of textures,
a balmy evening slowly transforming itself into a velvety night,
little dark-haired girls in floaty dresses
& tiny boys with their deep brown eyes twirling with their bikes on the piazza. 

nearly three heat-drenched weeks
stretching ahead of us...

and the first of our changing nests to curl into at night.


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