Saturday, 14 February 2015

Love of course


Here are a few cards I made for a friends pop up art fair a few weeks ago. We had a stall and made loads of crappy (and some good) cards to earn little pennies, and quench our thirst for ginger beer on tap! These folded valentines were inspired by that which John Keats gave Fanny Brawne in Bright Star (and possibly in real life, I just never delved deeper). I like them.

But the card is was fondest of I made last minute and was sold first so I didn't take a photograph. A curvy lady with the words LOVE YOU FOR WHO YOU ARE, I SURE DO.

Ladies, gentlemen, lets give a little more love this valentine, to lovers, family, friends, and to yourself! Put on your favourite dress, try a fancy hair do, make the most wonderful indulgent chocolate pudding, and do it to make yourself feel a little brighter*. Because you're bloody brilliant.

*maybe doing it because you want to spoil the one(s) you love is pretty swell too.

Wednesday, 11 February 2015

A change

11 . 2 . 15

This morning.
We are incredibly languid for the state we are in. Hardly packed and moving in just over a week. The cold makes us lie in late, pouring over books and cuddling. We procrastinate,  holding no confidence in ourselves, how are we ever going to do it, get everything ready in time to move?

I eventually crawl out of bed and pull on as many clothes as I can bear. While Liam reads the babies stories, I decide to tackle the unusual paraphernalia found on our bedroom windowsill. Football trophies, wooden pots of jewellery I detest but can't bear to part with JUST incase Queenie wants them to adorn future costumes. Then perched among the dusty books, I find this old friend. A bird I most likely illegally acquired while in college, he's travelled with us from house to house. It breaks my heart to say he won't join us on our move onto the next one. His eyes have shrivelled, his beaks yellowed, foot broken, the tail is hanging on by a thread, and his feathers are laying about the windowsill. He is irrefutably disgusting, and Liam has decided its time for goodbye. Bitterly, I agree.

When we do finally get round to packing, the children unpack as we turn our backs. We stop far too often for coffee and food breaks. We run out of boxes and realise the packing tape has also gone. We really are the worst at moving house. As we 'work', my thoughts go back to this funny old bird, I persuade myself to delve him out of the rubbish, I could do this or that to restore him, or work this and he would remain the current state, no longer slipping into disrepair (ok, lets face it, he's reached that, but my mind won't stop battling).

A little later into the afternoon, as if wound up by little keys slotting into gaps in our spines, we have a flurry of energy, of activity, finally it feels like we are making progress. We wrap and pack, tidy and let go, boxes pile up in the hallway. The rooms feel bare. Queenie's a caged animal, turned stir crazy among cardboard, her singing echoes in the empty spaces we have previously called home. Jarvis sleeps unbelievably long into the early evening and I begin to cook soup, distracted with more purging I could do to unused, dusty cooking items.

Chanted loudly in our every being is a new phrase, 'We can do it.'

Friday, 6 February 2015


Snippets of the year so far: A white shelf, reflecting a brief snowfall this week / He cheers me up while I fold endless washing / Capturing this home before we begin packing / Little boxes packed with her favourite things

It's early January
We write promises, plans and dreams, talk about our hopes for the following year. Little things, big things, things that are scary and a few treats for good measure.

Within a few weeks our biggest came to fruition. God planted the beautiful town of Falmouth as a seed in our hearts years ago, before our marriage had begun. He's been watering it, the love for that place growing, and with it so had we. The wait has been tough, our hearts have ached and we have wept but we see now, as always Gods timing was perfect. And finally, our time is now. With a big sigh of relief we smile, and feel as if we are going home. In just over two weeks we will be loading up cars and a van with boxes, bags, (and at this rate) pillow cases stuffed with our possessions to embark on the next adventure our little family will share.
Last month flew by and then the first six days of this have also. Its been exhausting and tough and all we've wanted to do is take a long trip to a warmer place! But to have this on our horizon is a joy, a weight is lifted from our shoulders, a hope at the end of the exhuastion of day to day jobs and the cold weather and everything else that leaves us feeling sour and blue at this time of year. 

This post on the ever inspiring blog, the Ma Books hit me and encouraged me at a day I couldn't have needed it more.

Sunday, 28 December 2014

More sunlight

Finally, we have a computer again (a christmas present to ourselves). I have big dreams for this space next year, but for now some lazy photographs from Christmas. Family portraits. Forever lounging around, basking in the glow of sunny spots.

Sunday, 23 November 2014

Evening light

My true loves playing, lit in the evening sun.

What a joy to have Liam home early from work on Tuesday.
We sit and play, talking about our day, Queenie providing us with plates of pancakes, soup and plenty of tea. She sure loves this kitchen and uses it much more than any other toy. We are taking note of what she actually spends time playing with and being mindful of that when buying her and Jarvis their christmas presents this year.

Saturday, 15 November 2014

I forgot where we were

A print by Eilidh Gordon, bought at Indias degree show in August. / An unfinished drawing of the all-encasing night sky.

An Ode to Ben Howard's second album.

We drive through the dark, all is still and the music plays, those deep and mystical tones of 'I Forgot Where We Were'.

We stop so I can feed the boy who stirs with a mix of hunger and teething pains. The music plays on and outside is crisp and as black as pitch. And in the blackness, scattered so densely, are the stars. Never have there felt so many. Liam hears queenie wake and wraps her up tight in a duvet before pulling her out to share this moment with him. Together they are lit by a passing car, looking up at this low incasing sky.
"Let me show you something. Look up, see the sky. Look at all those beautiful stars."
"We go to sleep on those stars."
The music still plays on and she holds him tighter.
"We go home now."
"Yeah" he replies and slips her back into her seat.

Back on the road we restart the track, soothing Jarvis' tears into slumber.
This beautiful drive where few words are spoken but after a long and draining week we are drawn back together in the silence. By music, nature and the shared love of two babies, our babies, so perfect and content in their unconscious state.

"Found sorrow 
in my mind most times 
gave it all back to the life i led
but since times changed
it all rolls away
I've got a woman at home
she treats me well"

Emotions are heavy, we are greiving and have just left a week of loving family. This music enchants, soothes and relinquishes us from discussion, so we can rest our weary brains.

I slip into slumber, praying to be a woman that treats him well.

A journey between the stars, October 2014.

Thursday, 6 November 2014


Yesterday we were inspired to make something special. I pulled out age old collections of stamps, sequins and unearthed the deepest layers of my flower press. Together we found some real treasures and made these jars. 2-dimensional wonders can be trapped between two layers of PVA.  The first two jars are mine but the others are Queenie's, and quite frankly hers are fantastic, a class above mine.
She's a true wonder that girl of ours.

Friday, 17 October 2014

Josh and India

Setting up the wedding reception and picking the flowers
 The few pictures I remembered to take during my sisters wedding day.

Oh blimey. We made it through the long, busy-yet-beautiful summer and hit hard into autumn. This cooler season has come at a perfect time. Our bodies and brains are exhausted and we are crashing into hibernation mode, surrendering to our aching bones. I've spent a few days rejigging bedrooms to be more comfortable and spacious, as these are the spaces we tend to all be in on a chilled afternoon at home. All snuggled into our bed with piles of books, or building blanket forts with Queenie in her room, before collapsing underneath them with stickers, pens and paper.
Thick socks and multiple layers are a must as well as the hearty meals cooking on the stove. Root vegetables and pulses are soaked in rich spices and piled high on brown rice. Food is voluptuous and helpings are generous. Every last morsel soaked up with bread, we are like wild things, famished. But why so weary, why so utterly spent?

I'm not completely sure. I know the change of any season takes it's toll, and perhaps that from summer to autumn the worst of all. Our summer months were hectic and flew by like a blink, then September was fit to burst. We celebrated three of the best couples coming together in love, in Saturday after Saturday after Saturday. The weddings were all so unique and special. The second was my sister India marrying one of our closest friends, Josh. Liam was best man and Queenie and I bridesmaids. It was an incredible wedding that we'd all worked so hard for and it was absolutely perfect. We ate fantastic food and we danced to a band of old boys playing jazz until the bride and groom waved goodbye and drove away to the hazy world of marital bliss. Liam and I looked upon the love birds and wept with genuine love, happiness and excitement.

And the next day we crashed and wept again with exhaustion. 

Thursday, 14 August 2014

that darn 52 project

I got to a point where I had to set a reminder on my phone every Sunday, to do the 52 project blog post. Then I set it on snooze, over and over. It was a weight and I felt as though all I did on the blog was try and catch up.
I enjoyed the outcome of the first year, having a beautiful book with 52 photos of Queenie printed at Artifact Uprising. But there was no reason that we can't continue that without boring you all to death with pictures of my babies.

And so with that, I decided to call it a day, and boy, it feels good! So I am back, sans 52!


Towards the end of July, we spent a week with Liam's family camping on the Jurassic coast. One day we walked through an abandoned village, a sweet little woodland, a tank training area, and got to two incredibly beautiful, quiet beaches.

The soft greys, blues and whites of this place calmed me. Liam and Jarvis fell asleep so Queenie and I explored, gathered and built.

At some point of every day since I've wanted to go back here.