I went to the most beautiful party last night. I lay on the floor on a cushion beside a kind man I didn't know, looking up at a grapevine-covered conservatory ceiling wound through with tiny lights, while listening to another man with a fairytale hat and a beautiful voice singing the kind of sad songs that make you feel lit up inside.
Read MoreDecember 2017
you me the sea tidal, 2017
You me the sea
in December 2017, Artwork
I'm posting this image for my dear friend, M, who is having a tough time, and has been having a tough time for years now. I almost want to laugh when I think of the pressure she's under in her life. Because otherwise I'll cry.
M, her heart is so big. Being in her company you feel her kindness and generosity wrap right round you. She is also fiercely creative, with something strong and important to say. This woman she knows how to love, she knows how to be there for those she loves, no matter the cost to her self. She ain't rich. She ain't famous. But damn, she is fine.
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My kitchen sink, 17 December 2017
My favourite kind of day
Sun shining hot.
Making good work.
Doing the washing.
Cleaning the sink.
This is
my favourite
kind of day.
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It's beautiful here at the edge, on the workroom wall, 14 December 2017
Counterpoint
in Artwork, 2017, December 2017
it's beautiful here
in this small room
in this small town
in this small country
at the edge
of the world
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Red string in a bow, December 2017
Gaps and distance
I've got a Xmas market coming up on Saturday and I've made some artwork for it which is quite good and, according to the schedule in my own head, I'm supposed to be spending this morning writing a cheery post so you'll come to the market and buy some stuff. But you know what I'm not feeling it.
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A note I wrote about red thread, 11 December 2017
These red threads they tie us so beautifully
in Artwork, December 2017
These red threads they tie us so beautifully
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It's a dog's life
I walked into the lounge and there he was, asleep in the warm and yellow light.
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What I wrote on the beam in my kitchen in 2002, rephotographed from the magazine 2017
This too will pass
in Archive, December 2017
I came across an old magazine while shifting Dad yesterday, an old New Zealand House and Garden with an eight page story about me in it. Mum had kept for 15 years. She always was proud of me.
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Boy with his bubble on my parent's wall, December 2017
Taking it all down
It will be strange though, to no longer have a place to go back to which is full of my mother's things. She loved her things. My parents have moved around a lot in their lives, so we as a family don't have a family home as such. What I didn't realise until now is that my mother's things were our family home. She was like a turtle and carried what mattered to her with her wherever she went. But as I said to one of my sisters, she no longer needs them now.
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Tie a yellow ribbon, 6 December 2017
Tie a yellow ribbon
I was getting my morning coffee from the excellent the village snob down by the riverside yesterday, and came across these two ribbons. One yellow, one black.
I wondered who put them there and why. A memory of a kiss? Some kind of grieving?
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