a living scrapbook

Wallpaper from the 1690s found in a house on Fournier Street in East London

If you love scraps of history, old wallpaper designs and tiny, amazing windows into the lives of real people over the last three hundred years, go immediately to the Gentle Author's blog at Spitalfields Life and read this wonderful, magical, humbling, inspiring post. Then have a browse and get lost in the maze of posts, and read some more. I love this blog.

the quiet harmony of perfect taste

February is not very old yet already I feel I have the measure of it. It is dark and grey and stormy, and the lack of light forces us to experience the world through a sort of blindfold: when our vision is diminished, we rely on our other senses. I had many things to show you in this post yet the light is so poor that cruel February has stolen even my pictures and so the 'illustrations' will have to remain in your imaginations.

It is said that those who are blind are sometimes able to experience light through other sensations, and in the same way it is through the heat of the log fire and the scent of hyacinths and a tiny sprig of Sarcococca(Christmas Box) that I am finding brightness at the moment. Also, through the power of sheer escape: last weekend we ate a delicious lunch and drank exquisite cups of hot strong tea at one of my favourite places:

There is a splendid old advertisement hanging on the wall as you queue for a table and I love its language and sentiment. It is exactly what I felt as we drove there:

"Let's go to Betty's, where we can meet our friends, and discuss things amongst surroundings that have the quiet harmony of perfect taste."

On the way we saw the patterns of twigs and buds and fields and sheep with a flock of lapwings twisting and turning overhead. On the way back we saw the most enormous red sun dipping away into the dark horizon. A wonderful tonic for these dark days.

Another excellent tonic is ordering a little but lovely piece of art from a talented artist: when I received my beautiful print from Amanda at Mangle Prints I found that she had generously slipped in this ephemeral printed waxed heart that hangs and gently turns at the window, filtering the lean pale light through its delicate design. Her work is lovely: have a look here.

a shadowy quiet

January is a very still, quiet month. Not much happens and not much changes.

I have been quiet too, especially on here. There's not much light for photographs and not many words in any case. I am not at all unhappy, and family life is full and busy. There just isn't much to report. I'm not feeling especially witty, I haven't been creating every day, there is nothing particular to share. I'm slightly disappointed that this is all I can say about my January, but so it is.

What there has been is the rhythm of daily life, recovery from illness, slow growth, a huge winter turn-out, log fires, some crochet and some reading, enjoying the lengthening days, little green shoots, the sound of birdsong again. I have been really enjoying this and I loved this, and this is interesting too.

a little light in the darkness

I am finding that I need to hold on really tightly at the moment to my words and wishes... so many things threaten to chase them away... tiredness, dark nights, heaviness, work.

I am someone who generally likes to operate on a spontaneous basis from within a framework of stability. When instability makes spontaneity impossible or too difficult, it can feel like a sort of entrapment, and the only things I end up doing are the things I don't want to do. So I have been challenged to approach things differently... normally I like to book holidays when I feel like taking them... this year I have decided to book them in now so that they are there, ready to pop up when I need them (and I do, already). So, this weekend we are going away for one night to a lovely boutique hotel in one of my favourite ever places, and next month we are cashing in half our Airmiles for a few days of sun. In the summer I have a tiny little cottage lined up. In the autumn I think we might go and see Paris again.

Normally this sort of forward planning scares me, but one of the things that's given me confidence is having completed a whole year of lists. A year ago, I decided to list five things every day that made me happy... reading back over the year is a wonderful aide memoire of all the things we did and the places we went and when we went... meaning that this year, I can predict for myself when something new might be just the thing. It's also a lovely record of the changes of seasons, moods, little people, the garden, the birds, everything that's meaningful. If you haven't discovered Listography yet, I passionately recommend it! You can search your lists, I love doing that.

...newness of life

Thank you so much for your good wishes for 2011. Along with others that I have received this year in cards and letters, I have created a mobile to remind myself of all the words that others have wished, prayed and hoped for me this new year. I have attached it to my lampshade where it is twirling gently in the warm air, releasing all these good things into my life...

I would like to wish all these same things for you, my friends, and so here they are... catch them and sew them up into your own lives too...

...light...spirit...wonderful...peace...expression...happiness...
fulfilment...God...amazing...space...resilience...joy...time...love...
...laughter...health...reflection...growth...inspiration...fun...
...creativity...

all that is past...

Another year has come to its end. In my mind I have always visualised each passing year in a sort of linear, tabular form... so that as one year ends, the eye of my mind is required to forcibly lift itself up from the bottom right hand corner, where the December days are dark and worn, and move up, along and over, to the top left, to January: to a place of gradually increasing light... a new page, a clean beginning, a fresh start. This year, I am so ready for that new page. It has been a challenging and frustrating twelve months. Pleasures and achievements have been small but intense... some of them are illustrated here.

My wish for us all this new year is light, laughter, peace, happy memories, creativity, fun, health, good times, lovely surprises, warm weather, and friendship. All the way through to the end.

here there is peace, and a short while for dreaming...

The snow has wrought a silence and a stillness which at first seems to sit uneasily with this busy time of preparation and creativity. There are cards and gifts to be delivered, supplies to be bought, errands to run, yet the ground outside is as uncompromisingly hard as iron and cold as ice. The freezing weather is its own master, and now ours too. Jobs must wait. Excess is stripped away. Everything is pared down to an essential skeleton. I rather like this, but then again, I am not spending my nights on an airport trolley, or waiting anxiously for the return of loved ones.

The weather brings a surprising mix of the necessary and the unexpected. For me, this afternoon, an unplanned but very welcome time of peace and quiet alone with the scent of the Christmas tree and a log fire, full of thankfulness for a mended boiler and for the hot water and warmth that it brings. Lemon-and-orange curd cooling in the kitchen, and jobs done, as far as I am able. Time to think and reflect and to wait expectantly for the winter solstice: deep in the freezing darkness of tomorrow night, when at last the earth will begin to turn and move towards the sun once more, and every day will be a few minutes longer than the last.

The craft market on Saturday was echoingly quiet, the snow keeping everyone at home. It was disappointing, but I have made sufficient sales this winter to fund my art materials for next year, which was my goal, and it is too easy to become greedy. I have a few items left over, however, so if anybody wants to buy a box of the paper and stitch bunting or a string of little linen birds, let me know, although I won't be able to get them to you for Christmas. The bunting is £8 and the birds are £14 which includes P&P to the UK.