Wednesday, 29 October 2014

A Lover Lay In Her Bed

She thought about all the souls she had loved that day.

She dreamt of all the souls she would one day meet.

She shut her eyes.
And smiled to herself.

Sunday, 26 October 2014

Winter Is For...

Cold nights and crisps mornings. An extra pair of socks so your wellies fit just right. Apple crumble, blackberry crumble, every kind of crumble! Be sure to warm your custard first.

Foggy drives home at midnight, accompanied by two cigarettes and drivers who forget to switch their full beam off.

Winter is for hoping to see a blanket of untouched white on Christmas morning. The sweet smell of pine trees and roasted chestnuts. 

We'll witness those November days. The sun will shine bright and the wind will blow cold, where it's Spring in the sun and Winter in the shade.

Wednesday, 22 October 2014

A Poem For Today | 3

Great Things Have Happened

We were talking about the great things
that have happened in our lifetimes;
and I said, "Oh, I suppose the moon landing
was the greatest thing that has happened
in my time." But, of course, we were all lying.
The truth is the moon landing didn't mean
one-tenth as much to me as one night in 1963
when we lived in a three-room flat in what once had been
the mansion of some Victorian merchant prince
(our kitchen had been a clothes closet, I'm sure),
on a street where by now nobody lived
who could afford to live anywhere else.
That night, the three of us, Claudine, Johnnie and me,
woke up at half-past four in the morning
and ate cinnamon toast together.

"Is that all?" I hear somebody ask.

Oh, but we were silly with sleepiness
and, under our windows, the street-cleaners
were working their machines and conversing in Italian, and
everything was strange without being threatening,
even the tea-kettle whistled differently
than in the daytime: it was like the feeling
you get sometimes in a country you've never visited
before, when the bread doesn't taste quite the same,
the butter is a small adventure, and they put
paprika on the table instead of pepper,
except that there was nobody in this country
except the three of us, half-tipsy with the wonder
of being alive, and wholly enveloped in love.

- Alden Nowlan (1933-1983)

Sunday, 19 October 2014

This Week #12 | How Are You?

Overwhelmed. Overwhelmed that I am here. Writing, self meditating, filling a void that has only been creeping up on the thoughts I assumed were long gone. It’s the good kind of overwhelmed. Quietly overwhelmed. And this is okay. It’s not dramatic and it’s not quite heart wrenching. I can still breathe.

I’m overwhelmed that the people around me are inexplicably tolerant and loving of my flaws and needs, though different to their's they remain justified - simply because I feel them.

And when your dearest friend sits across from you in a small coffee shop and tells you how envious she is of the life you lead, driving, photographing views she only sees from her window, believe her. She’s exploring too, seeing different things and learning. And she is happy. And she lives surrounded by light and love, and she knows it. Yet part of her still longs for what you have, she still believes it to be tangible.
There is a lesson in this. Be open to it.

Perhaps everything that has just happened is an invitation to a new adventure. 
All adventure requires is curiosity. And curiosity, I have in abundance. 

Thursday, 16 October 2014

Links Love #9

// Adventures require curiosity

// All this grey, rainy weather has put me in the mood for a holiday - this is the dream!

// 10 foreign words we need in English!

// "I'm a grown woman, I can do whatever I want."

// Stunning photos of Iceland by Finn Beales.

Monday, 13 October 2014

One Thursday Night In May

Enough light shone through the cracks in the blinds to cast a soft light on your spine. It was gentle and ready, driving me crazy as it danced on your skin.
I mean it’s not as if you weren’t glowing already.
You have this permanent glow about you. And I’m envious, because it’s so effortless.
Up and out. Left and right. Every direction going, you’ve got it.
A glow that would make even the most fearful child fall in love with sleeping against light.

What a wonderful way to burn.

Sunday, 5 October 2014

This Week #11 | Seeking The Positive

It's Sunday. And I'm still here. Beat and a little bruised, but nonetheless I am here.

Long drives with blissful, high views kept me sane and grounded. The kind of seats that give you nosebleeds. I was wrapped in a duvet of thick sky and icy wind, with nothing but my camera to capture it all. 

Sometimes I think of how I’ll describe these moments in my life, when I am fortunate enough to look back.
"It was beautiful."
"You'd have loved it."
"Oh I wish I could have stayed a little longer."
"I was happy in that moment because you were too."

I suppose what gets me most is falling exhausted in to bed dreaming dreams not so different to the days I'm living. 
That has to be a life well-spent, doesn't it?

Wednesday, 1 October 2014

Dear October...

You have a warm feel about you. Summer's said its final goodbyes and the orange glow that lit the sky for so long now litters the ground.

I've missed you, October. The way you allow the darkness to fall a little earlier in the evening. How you grant me the much missed permission to wrap up in big jumpers. How the fog that graces most mornings is nothing but tranquil and the little bit of haze I need to feel grounded.

Change is coming. Change is always coming. I want change. In fact, the more I want it, the more elusive it becomes. We'll synchronise in the right places and battle in the wrong, but it'll work it. And the process, though occasionally brutal, is mostly thrilling.

Three months until the year is up. Three months to kick ass. Three months to go out in a blaze.

October, make 'em dance.