The Gathering Storm...

She could stitch in a storm for days and then unpick it when the ground had had enough....

September is almost over, and autumn has truly set in, low sunlight, firey leaves and the sky full of stars... I'm filling my days; as always, with stacks of books, cloud grey scarfs and windblown papers, and my nights; with cups of steaming tea, tangy oranges and music that's oh so blue...

College is making me very happy, the time I can spend just reading; filling my head with tales and theory, poetry and philosophy is so indulgent, and yet I'm itching to make something, turn all that thought into something tangible, sound the narrative out in my own rhythm...

Today I love grey morning light low across the sheets, falling leaves and the smell of coffee drifting down the street. I love books worn and battered, and as always I cannot stand selfishness. Today the woman I am is still barefoot, she has been wandering and eating pears and her sleep is sound and deep...

And the bible didn't mention us...

1. Blue Hue, 2. Clouds were passing by..., 3. fragile things (heart), 4. cake

All images from Flickr.

Take them then; my curls and stay a while, till morning.
Leave me with blue skies and your boots by the door...

Today was a lovely family day; an in-between day of blue skies above apples and leaves turning red and autumn dinners eaten outside in the heat of summer... Tea and cake, and cream scones with jams. A day with that familiar sense of hope; like a blank page or fresh sheets and right now it smells like salt breezes and paint and sounds like a slow tango, the flutter of book pages and waves on the shore...

Today I love, as always, blue skies, steaming tea and bare feet. I love cake and laughter and old friends. I love dappled light and men who wander and as ever I hate words left unsaid...
Today the woman I am has grass stains on her still bare feet, she laughed all day and ate cake for breakfast, she lives where the light is golden and filtered and she is oh so nervous...

The Weather Watcher...

The evening hung in the air like torn lace,
that fragile word left unsaid and the gathering rains washing in...

Oh it's been such a long time since I last wrote here; the summer blossomed months ago and then died suddenly in the night, it has been raining for weeks and the nights fall suddenly now, like a grey curtain drawn on the world... autumn is here, and as usual I'm filing my days with books and coffee, plums eaten in the depths of the night and words sounded out in rhythm once more...

I return to college on Monday to start a masters degree, I'm scared and excited; I let Kerouac make my feet itch and I'm feeling more than a little like a bird in a cadge... but it's only for a little while and then I'll have a shiny new key...
I hope to update more often, once I'm back to college, lots of fresh work; fairy tales and briars, poetry and light, craft and politics all made tangible...

Today I love that thick golden autumn light, I love plums and creamy coffee and the sound of rain beating off the roof, as always I love maps with well worn creases and music that feels like home and, as always, I hate words spoken in anger... Today the woman I want to be wanders, she knows the back roads and will never be cadged, she doesn't need to count the stars to know they're there, she trusts the ones who love her and those ready compliments no longer make her stall... in a little while...

Witch's Thimble...

She could call up a storm with a single tread of her raven hair and draw down the rains with a petal...

I've so many ideas still flitting around my head; I gathered hundreds of superstitions for my degree, all handwritten and stored in an old index cabinet, and I discovered they mostly concern one of three things; love, death or the weather. I've worked with death; drowning sailors and lost souls... and so now begins a new project 13 tales of love and the weather... superstitions made tangible, a weather watcher weaving charms, embroidery and lace, rain on the roses and stormy skies, summer breezes and sheets on the lines; so many ideas so much work to do.

Today the clouds have rolled in and the sky is heavy with heat and rain, the roses tumble over walls and hedges spilling their colour over the green, the bats are back in the fireplaces and flit into the house and the bees wander in dazed from pollen and heat... Today I love crisp linen, cool against my skin. I love well worn books, the sound of laughter through the rooms and the smell of lemons. As always I can't stand disregard for others. Today the woman I want to be is grace, she doesn't doubt and finds all the time she needs... she always bakes cakes from those lemons, dusted off with sugar and summer roses and she always finds light in the rains...

Someday the Waves...

You pick a place and thats where I'll be
-Iron&Wine
All images from Flickr

Oooooh Summer! It's been a long time since my last post; I've been so very busy, degree over, show opened and closed and I graduate on Wednesday; caps and gowns, paper and silk, strawberries and champagne... And yet at this ending place I feel completely lost, set adrift without a map, I'm hoping if I just keep working I'll form my own map, one woven from narratives, love and light... wish me luck!

Today my freckles have returned sprinkled across my face by the sun, my hair is turning red among the black in the summer light and my feet can no longer stand shoes... Today I love foxgloves and swallows high against a blue sky, I love the smell of honeysuckle in the early morning light and the cool cushion of grass under bare feet... As always I loathe falsity. Today the woman I want to be sleeps soundly, those angels on street corners no longer haunt her and she can pull beauty out of nothing but that late summer light...

Salt of the Earth...

The driftwood burning
Learned its jewelled blaze
From the sea's blue splendor
Of colored nights and days.
-Driftwood. Sara Teasdale

The rain has set back in, green days awash with grey. I'm still reading my leaves each morning, and I constantly have blue ink on my fingers and thread in my pockets. I'm putting the stories in order, my mind is full of words; lines sounded out in rhythm and whispers. My hands are full of pebbles, smooth and worn. And my desk and floor are covered in a flurry of paper and images, text and waiting books. I always work this way, finally putting it together during the last weeks, before that it remains fluid; shifting, gathered and windblown until I breathe deep and pin it down...

Today I love soft knits and the drum of rain on the roof, I love blossoms that fall like snow and cups of steaming tea. I love bare feet and loathe words that taste like lies. Today the woman I am has been scanning the sky like a map and eating jam from the jars, she wants to pocket those stars and sprinkle them in her tea leaves and the only person she tells it all to has salt in his hair, a bird on his foot and the ocean in his blood...

Primrose and Pale days...

I know a bank where the wild thyme blows,
Where oxlips and the nodding violet grows,
-W.Shakespeare "A Midsummer Nights Dream."

Oh May is here, blowing in with blue skies, nights filled with stars, tea leaves in the kitchen sink, blackbirds singing from the apple tree, bats back in the fireplaces and frogs in the washroom...

I've been reading my tea leaves daily, counting those stars and I'm still collecting those superstitions; primroses bring love and can open doors between worlds... they'll also help cure depression if made into tea or tossed in a salad. I'm so pale, its been a long winter and a longer spring but in less than three weeks this degree will be over and I can already taste that strawberry and cake taste of summer...

I have a lot still to do; photos to take, trees to pearl, books to fill, words to write, pebbles to tattoo, floors to lay and a thousand other things... wish me luck!

Today I love pale skies, maps and dust rising on a road, I love books waiting to be filled with inky pens, the smell of wood and the sound of a lone guitar... As always I loathe untrue actions. Today the woman I am has a hundred pearls rattling in her pockets, she wears blue silk borrowed from the sky and her hair is still as black as a curse. She can bake that cake without a recipe and has a thousand tales to tell...

North Winds...

That North wind tugged at her hair, it pulled at her clothes and unwound the blue in her hem...

I'm not very happy with this narrative, I'll rewrite in over the next few days... The weather has set back in; grey and green, wind through the trees and rain on the windows. I'm making lists; trying to get a lot done, and I'm still collecting those superstitions; does anyone have any they'd like to share?

Today I love my cream lace scarf, I love spring greens and wild primroses. Today I can't wait for the swallows to come home, I love gritty pears and as always I loathe fair weather people. Today the woman I want to be knows that recipe off by heart, the north wind doesn't tug at her hair or whisper of ill change, she has more time for her camera and never has to guess her friends motives...

spring blues

1. Untitled, 2. Untitled, 3. Love , 4. happy...

All images from Flickr...
Touch blue and your wish will come true...

Oh Spring... finally bare legs and wispy skirts, green leaves and cherry blossom, windblown pale scarfs and more bunting... so far my weekend has been filled with blue; blue skies overhead, blue flowers on the table, blue ink on my fingers, blue cups filled with frothy coffee and a blue shirt as blue as that sky...
What colour is your weekend? Have a wonderful Easter eat lots of chocolate, dark of course with coffee...

Borrowed Blue...

Always use new pins, old letters and borrow blue from the sky...

Last Saturday was my birthday, I had such a light filled weekend; friends, family, bunting and ribbon, cakes and flowers, raspberries and blue skies...

This week I have been making headway on my degree show; days on blustery beaches with my camera back in my hands, late nights spent filling cabinets with superstitions; always use new pins for quilts and dresses, stitch blue thread into your hem and keep a pebble from home shores in your pocket. My tree, an apple tree is on it's way to me, soon it should be on a ship crossing the Irish sea, fitting for a tree I intend to haunt with pearls, sea salt and pebbles. Mature apple trees, it would seem, are difficult to buy in Northern Ireland...

Today I love sky blue thread and my wispy sea grey scarf, I love tea steaming in the early spring air and the sound of pebbles underfoot. As always I loathe injustice. Today the woman I am sleeps soundly, and has somehow managed to leave books and coffee in almost every room in the house, she has been baking and dreaming of the sea and she can almost taste freedom...

Tulips and Daydreams...

1. Untitled, 2. Untitled, 3. usual view. 4. Spring is sooner recognized by plants than by men
All images from Flickr...

Spring is washing in, my days exist in water filled colours and rain, the flowers are here but the world is grey, caught somewhere between the months. I think perhaps I'm caught there too; I have been so tired lately, I feel as if I am in that time between sleep and awake...

My proposal for our end of year show is due tomorrow, it is a sort of to-do/I need list, a basic plan for the degree exhibition. And so my head is full of measurements, light and practicality, again this feels in between, a formal plan which is expected to change, a list for something undecided, an exercise in bureauacy...

Today I love tulips in red, and the sound of rain on an umbrella. I love peat fires and salt air, the smell of pipe smoke, old men whistling and the sound of pebbles on the shore... Today the woman I want to be sleeps soundly, she breathes spring in deep and lives where the daylight is golden or lemon filtering through the rooms...

Ink and Light...

Hummm...... I've just opened an Etsy shop selling prints of my images, it has most of the images I've already posted on here and a few others; we'll see how it goes. Go on over and take a look; there's a link to the right. Thank you all for the encouragement...

I've been so tired recently; constantly exhausted and distracted... I need to get myself together, I hope it gets warmer soon and the sun finds its way through, I am so very ready for spring...

Lace and Loss...

Its been one hundred and eighty three days; time moves now, fragile and grey like broken china.

Cold Soil, Cold Soul.

And those roots grow dark green and deep...

Oh March, that in-between month when the rain bounces off the windows like broken pearls, and the sunlight filters through with false gold... march is not to be trusted, it is as likely to break its promise of spring as it is to keep it; it is a month of frost and fresh greens, of flowers and rain storms... and by the middle of this month I will have handed in my proposal and started work on my final pieces of this degree...

I have a few ideas of what I want to do, but it all needs thought out logically- not my strong point. In the meantime I will keep working, making ideas expanding the narratives... These photographs were taken within two weeks of each other; they are jars with bone, paper and lace buried within them, moss growing on top. I had expected the paper to rot away but not so quickly, it disturbed me how fast it disappeared, in a matter of weeks right before my eyes and suddenly something so simple, something fragile and upsetting becomes the heart of the work...

Salt and Light...

Ohhh I have lovely news... I have the opportunity to show my work, the Salty Superstitions narrative in a public space. It is a beautiful community centre overlooking the sea, location wise it couldn't be more perfect for the narrative; all that salt air and sea light, the sound of waves right outside the door... I just need to get moving, get them printed and framed up and on their walls soon...

I am also looking into opening an Etsy store selling prints of my work soon, I'm a little worried about this; I have no confidence about letting my work lose in the world... I'll start very small and see how it goes...

Tomorrow I have to give a ten minute presentation on my work in college; how I form narratives, my refrences, my inspirations, my materials; photography, writing, documentation along with found and created objects. I plan to serve tea and tell stories but what else I plan to say or do changes by the hour... Confidence here is also an issue, I've put so much of myself into my work that standing with it, revealing my hows and whys makes me feel more than a little exposed...

Today I love every shade of blue and fresh raspberry scones with tea, I love rain on the windows and inky pens. Today I love stacks of well worn books, old friends made of paper and ink and as always I hate dreams that leave me reeling... Today the woman I want to be is comfortable enough with herself that she is grace and light, she is as at home in a crowded room as she is on her own, she walks along the beach each morning and her life is daylight and sea salt...

Poetry, Polaroids and Coffee days...

All images from flickr...

Its been a long time since my last post; its been a long few weeks... but spring is in the air; the days are fresh and the rain less grey, my mornings are filled with light and coffee and my world seems bathed in poetry.

Today I love the heat of a cup in my hands, I love stacks of old photos and treasures hidden in books. Today I love pale blue thread and creamy pearls and as always I loathe falsity. Today the woman I want to be has long dark hair and knows who she is, she can tell Fairy Tales at the drop of a hat and can bake cakes without a recipe, she doesn't have to guess who her friends are and her nights are spent sleeping sound...