A few more photos from my time in NZ.
While visiting my dear dear friend, and her beautiful family.
So many shells along the beaches. Brought up many memories of childhood walks along beaches collecting shells. Alas, it seems the sand shores I visit here, in Aust, don't seem to have as many shells as they used to. {sand dredging in the area has led to many many coastal changes over the past years}.


you know when sometimes,
something happens
things stop
for a moment and
then they just slip
into place.

sometimes just for one moment.
your heart stops
things just
sort of

actually, pretty darn

the simple quiet of working with fabric
under your fingers
and not
just any fabric.
but the real warmth and rawness of a natural fabric
woven simply and finely and amazingly.

and not just any everyday plain fabric
but a fabric that
have made a design for
and printed
with ink
with your hands
and your heart
and your friends.

sometimes things just slip
into place and feel
just sorta right.

sometimes the quiet of the house
combined with the
background sounds
of the street and the music on the
music machine.
and the quiet in your head
helps things slip and fall

suburban afternoon

This afternoon, while I was sitting at my sewing table. In the quiet of a kid-free house. Sewing some little pencil cases for some long overdue parcels that needed to be posted off.
Listening to the sounds of the street around me. The soft dull murmur of a city street, a suburban city street.
Our next door neighbours' visitor. A regular visitor who has the most everyday stories, told at loudest volume, with emphatic punchlines. Stories I think I should tape, so that if I ever wrote one of those everyday life novels, I would have some 'real life' fodder. After he leaves, the next door house is quiet. It seems still, as if our neighbours have to regain their energy from such an over-the-top exuberant guest.
At building site down the street, I hear a man call out "want to bring another wheel barrow". Such a mundane aspect of the work they are doing near the train tracks.
Only a moment after that a mother "right now", in the total irritated tone of talking to a disobedient child, yet in the hushed tones of being out in the street. And having the feeling that everyone is watching you reprimand your child. (Come on, you all know that feeling!).
I continue on, unpicking and then resewing. Changing thread colour, and zipper foot back to regular machine foot. Purse after purse after purse. With the still silence - a dull hum of distant traffic and life - of the street and the city.
And then everyone home again, and the noise back in my house. Shattering through the thickness of the silence I've been settled into. Back to regular life.

Plus more images of my inspiration board above my sewing table. This desk is in the front (entrance) room of our house, and I'm really enjoying having these snippets for myself, yet still having to be conscience that it's what people see when they walk in (hmmm... possibly a bit nicer than the regular mess we have from front to back of the whole house!).

still life :: tea party

These are a few little still lives of our tea party. With the obligatory Lego, of course!
Beautifully styled by my sister, Sylve. She should be a stylish, don't you think. I love her home (when it's tidy!). The little pieces that she has, the collections, the displays. I think one day I need to show you around her house, so you can see what I mean.
I want to say thank you so so so much to all of you who have been reading and commenting. I enjoy receiving your sweet comments, and your encouragement. I am sorry that I have been replying to comments lately; it seems that my days keep running away from me. I am trying to spend less time on the computer, yet still am scurrying to get everything done. I think we are all feeling the same at this time of year.
I hope you all enjoy and relax and rest and remember that Christmas is about family, and love and friendship and warmth and laughter. Lots of laughter and memory making. And not at all about the best wrapped present or best set table, or tastiest food. It's about the people who give the present to, the people you share the meal with, the people you clink your glasses with. (Though having pretty presents sure is fun isn't it!).
Take care. xxx

sometimes life looks better in b/w

We went out today for a couple of hours, and I came home feeling hot and tired, with a hot body and a heavy head. I felt like cutting all my hair off, it was weighing me down.
Sam let me sleep for a little while, until the afternoon sun came into the room, waking me up. He took the kids for a walk, a little later on, and I looked at these beautiful photos. They surely helped to cool me down a little bit.

Then I put my own camera onto the black & white setting. Looking at our house without the colour changes the way you see things. The background noise (mess) wasn't so obvious. The dominos left over from the games played wasn't annoying, the bowl and fork from a late snack of pasta looked more interesting in b/w than in real daylight heat and colour.
I'm sure I'll switch back to the colour mode of the camera tomorrow (we are going to my dad's for the weekend, a bit of a relax and some walking in the forest, and photo taking. Refresh and inspiration), but for now I'm enjoying what the arty, grainy b&w is making me feel.
See the rest here, including some beautiful images of my two little precious ones.

Poppy Rabbit

This weekend past we went to an open-day at the Steiner School my nephew attends. A lovely day seeing family members we don't get to visit with very often. Listening to fantastic music, and watching some great Latin dancing on the dance floor.
Afterwards we went to Brunswick Heads, where we had chips and cool Summer drinks, with my brother, nephew and my Grandma. A play in the park, watching kids walking on the low-tide mud in the river mouth. What a perfect afternoon; with warm and sunny weather and family friendships.While at the Steiner Fair I bought some little wooden creatures for the kids. Of course, a turtle for Ari - who seems to know a lot about turtles, and innately really like them (or at least talk about them a lot). For Mishi I couldn't help but choose this friendly little Rabbit.
I had to keep reminding myself to not call it Bunny, but rather Rabbit - so I named her Poppy Rabbit. For no reason other than I'm quite sick of all those animal humanised stories where the animals have alliteration names; Penny Pig, Henry Horse, Clara Cow... you know what I mean.
I took this little photo shoot this afternoon, of Poppy Rabbit and some macros of stones, seedpods and shells. With small children clambering on my back and whinging in my ears (and that was a constant today).