Exquisite, she is.

What a privilege to celebrate your birthday, my beautiful friend.

In The Mirror

Its almost dinner time & I had the intense need to just quickly draw.... I didnt think, I just drew 'her'. She is not finished but a draft. She is more a 'thought'.

Well, I invite you now to my world of unfinished doodles.... they nest away in my computer, in my note books, in my journals. They are everywhere.

I sketched her little freckles & I felt a time-warp... of when I detested my freckles & longed for the pure, clean canvas of facial skin that I saw on magazine covers. Neither was I fond of the gap in my front teeth & would wrap a rubber band around my teeth in the hope of closing the whole!

How strange that now it is those things that I love about me. They are part of making me, me.

Miss Peacock

Serene Sally

What is it about winter approaching that makes me think of patience? Possibly it is just the current lesson in life I am learning & therefore I see it in every window. Today has again been rainy with occasional sunshine peeking through, like an unreliable friend. But my washing still hangs under the pergola, damp & threatening to perfume itself with odour of wet dog. I am trying to be patient.

Perhaps this is my problem with dressmaking... following a pattern seems so time consuming.  Halfway into the project & I desperately want to see the finished product!  So I rush it... I work without the pattern... I use pure guess-work & find myself with unwearable clothes.  

As for the comfort food of carrot cake... after a timely baking process, I must then further wait for it to cool before layering it with cream-cheese icing! It will be no surprise that most times our cakes are eaten without the indulgence of icing.

I know that I am learning patience.... I am so very slowly learning patience. But it is worth it, an investment in my life, in my marriage, in all my relationships. I try to look for it's lessons in every step I take & often watch myself fail. But failure doesn't show that I am weak... it shows that I have tried. 

The thought of patience growing gives me a great sense of both 
strength & 
peace. 

Hello winter.... I know you are not far away... I am ready for you.

(Thank you to 'Love Dare'... a must read)The Love Dare

(Thank you to Renee who walks an amazing journey. Love you)

Yellow Submarine

Is this what if feels like to have an addiction? Ha!... Possibly too strong a word. But, it would seem that every op-shop I drive past has various old wooden chairs out front... enticing me, teasing me, calling out in their little wooden voices. I want them. I want them all.  

For the moment, only one $5 chair has made it into my home. But I know there are more to come. What's more... I want to paint them all glossy yellow & glossy lemon & any other glossy shade of yellow I can find. But the paint must be thick & of course, glossy.   Oh.... I feel my heart warm just imagining them.... half a dozen odd, yellow, wooden chairs, gathered around on my deck waiting to entertain visitors. 

Today, while treating myself to an op-shopping afternoon I bumped into a gorgeous friend who kindly told me her favourite op-shop location. I was so impressed.... I know many who do not want to divulge their secret shops for fear you will buy all the 'good' stuff! But I sit here tonight ever so grateful for my friend's advice, as I am now the owner of a new pre-loved jacket. It was just sitting there waiting for me as I entered the shop... a perfect fit... a perfect price... like a gift just for me. So, to my beautiful friend I say 'thank you' because although it was my own money spent, it feels like a gift from you!

(love you Shannon)

Crayola Artista II Washable Tempera Paint 16oz Yellow

Pretty as a Pencil

Ever just feel the need to do a bit of cross-hatching? I couldn't resist.



Yedi Houseware Classic Coffee and Tea Butterfly Espresso Cups and Saucers, Gold, Set of 6

Walk a Mile

A friend was wearing the most delightful shoes the other day. I was compelled to drool over them. Yes... they were an op-shop find! Sadly, I am one of those people who never seems to find cool op-shop shoes in my size.

I'm not opposed to it but I think it's kind of a strange thing wearing second-hand shoes... Someone else, a complete stranger has worn those shoes... Someone that possibly leads a very different life to your own... Someone that possibly has different beliefs... different ideals... different dreams...

Its probably no surprise that travelling down this thought path brought a song to mind (Elvis was close behind!)....

"If I could be you, if you could be me
For just one hour, if we could find a way
To get inside each other's mind
If you could see you through my eyes
Instead your own ego I believe you'd be
I believe you'd be surprised to see
That you've been blind

Walk a mile in my shoes
just walk a mile in my shoes
Before you abuse, criticize and accuse
Then walk a mile in my shoes..."

(Thanks to Lisa for her inspiring shoes.)

Brown Paper Packages

Vintage wallpaper.

Crumpets with real butter & honey.

The sound of a vinyl record playing.

Hot cross buns with fruit.

The Scarfs at Grace Emily.... wow.

Bumping into old friends.

Being inspired after bumping into old friends.

Visual art diaries.

Ribbons & lace.

Finding postcards in your letterbox.

Finding real limes on our little lime tree.

Kind neighbours that randomly give Easter treats.

Helping an elderly man who has lost his way home.

Tea cups... real tea cups.

The wonderous transformation of applying paint.

Op shopping.

Family.

Sunshine.

Easter... the real story.

These are a few of my favourite things.

Flamenco Free

We were told it was the place to be... a small spanish restaurant in Brunswick. Even now I salivate at the thought of their food & of course, the sangria. But it was the stage at the front that excited me - a wooden platform so much smaller than I expected.

I eagerly awaited the flamenco dancer to take the floor with her fabric-laiden costume, slicked back dark hair adorned with a large flower, red lipstick... always red lipstick. There is something so romantic & passionate & strong about flamenco.

I sat, wide-eyed, waiting.

Oh.

A flash of disappointment as 'he' appeared. This was not what I had been expecting. Just a male flamenco dancer? Yet..... he had such presence. His heels began hit the floor & I was captivated. The room seemed mesmerised by his movements.... but he danced as if he didnt even know we were there... drawing every emotion, every desire, every ounce of strength into his limbs... effortlessly. A confident vulnerability.

I can still see his feet moving at a speed that I didnt know possible. At so many times I was torn between watching in amazement & also wanting to close my eyes... to soak in the sound, the atmosphere, the experience. The whole night was an unexpected treat. (Thanks Jaq)

Recently, I found myself overwhelmed with a rollercoaster of emotions & no real outlet. It was then that I had a flashback to my Spanish night in Melbourne. I stood in my kitchen looking at the floorboards beneath me.... if only I had 'the' shoes, I would be dancing it all out right now; my poor bruised pine floorboards would be echoing throughout the house. But I dont have the shoes & I'm sure Dave would prefer our floorboards stayed in one piece. So, instead I just danced, completely uncoordinated, completely uninhibited...

I danced because I am glad that I live feeling emotions...

I danced because I dont want to be ruled by emotions...

I danced cause I love to live.