Saturday, 28 February 2009

Leaps and Bounds

Aren't Februarys curious months? Fast and fleeting. Last year was a leap year and this year it's odd to think that there's a day that simply isn't there. A lost anniversary. It's like the hole in your smile after you lose a tooth, the empty bed of tender flesh that you can't help but probe with your tongue, the dull pain a reminder of what was there. Like Tom's Midnight Garden when the clock strikes thirteen, or when you miss a step on the stairs. It's as if somewhere out there, there are all these lost days that exist beyond our calendar...days and days of wind and rain, bird song and snowdrops and mild February sun, just out of reach.

The Lady's Song in Leap Year
Roses are red, diddle diddle, lavender's blue,
If you will have me, diddle diddle, I will have you.
Lillies are white, diddle diddle, rosemary's green,
When you are king, diddle diddle, I will be queen.
Call up your men, diddle diddle, set them to work,
Some to the plough, diddle diddle, some to the cart,
Some to make hay, diddle diddle, some to cut corn,
While you and I, diddle diddle, keep the bed warm.
- Faber Book of Verse

Thursday, 26 February 2009


New t-shirt from Venus in Furs. One day, I'll sport a moustache to match it.

The art college has an installation of turf where students sometimes go and sit.

I went on an adventure! More about that soon, there's a Little Boots concert or something on tonight around the corner.

Monday, 23 February 2009

To Someone;

Thank you. These amazing specimens of being you throw in my path - I am nothing but grateful to receive them with open arms and mind and heart, nothing but hopeful for laughter and love and coming happinesses.

Saturday, 21 February 2009

Spoiling Bruschetta

Take over-ripe tomatoes and onions on the brink of going off and dice into cubes but not too uniform because different sized chunks are always exciting.
Chop away the dried up bits of your cheese - cheddar or similar. Cut into cubes and put into a bowl with the vegetables. Pour over balsamic vinegar, but not too much.
Mix around, leave to soak for a bit if you've got more important things to do.
Spread stale bread with the remnants of a jar of pesto (to make it yourself, just blend basil leaves and olive oil and a chopped clove of garlic and parmesan and toasted pine nuts and salt and pepper and lemon juice).
Dole out the cubes onto your bread and put under the grill for a while, until the cheese starts melting and the pesto bubbles and the tomatoes are going a bit brown and soft.
Share with starving flatmates or enjoy yourself in a blind food binge.

Saturday, 14 February 2009


"For one human being to love another; that is perhaps the most difficult of all our tasks, the ultimate, the last test and proof, the work for which all other work is but preparation."

- Rainer Maria Rilke

Friday, 13 February 2009


denim dress - H&M
four-strand necklace, leggings - handmedowns
shoes - Topshop
knitted headband - selfmade
thistle brooch - grandmother's

"This is an old song,
these are old blues.
This is not my tune,
but it's mine to use.
And the seabirds
where the fear once grew
will flock with a fury,
and they will bury what'd come for you.
(Sadie - J.N.)

Ever hear the expression "you've got a head full of cottonwool"?
Last Friday 13th seems so long ago, as does Valentine's Day. Happy anniversary Sophie, and Laura Marling...

Thursday, 12 February 2009

The Milk-Eyed Mender

Just having a moment, sat in the cupboard. My flatmates didn't really understand.

The jumper is H&M Menswear and the boots are secondhand from Barnardo's Vintage, and slightly too small but too good to part with. After today's archaeology tutorial and talk about fieldwork this summer, I felt like wearing this.

This week is a little unspeakable. Joanna Newsom has been good company today.

What is it

about train journeys

that's so relaxing?

I feel a bit like I'm in pieces. It isn't necessarily a calamity or a call for therapy. Maybe having parts in pieces lets them make more sense than when jumbled up with everything else. I see mosaics and jigsaws and sand and shattered mirrors. Beautifully broken into bits. Perhaps being in pieces would give me an opportunity to look a little closer, understand better what falls between the cracks.

When I went home, my mother made me tea from the leaves my sister brought back from Paris (for the packaging more than anything).

Ella was wearing a wolf (and one day, I'll have one, and seven cats, and chickens), and now she's on the other side of the world for quite some time.

These are the crocuses I planted for my mum last time I was home. They're shooting upwards into the light and soon I'll feel better, and I will be too.

Monday, 9 February 2009

Friday, 6 February 2009

Homeward Bound

Just for the weekend.

Meet the bunnies; Noelle the grey and Bobby the brown.

Thursday, 5 February 2009

Wednesday, 4 February 2009

Happy Hour

Earl Grey and an antique watch; Alex's vintage Chanel; being a vagabond; Burns Night;
writing letters; Rosie's face paint; the Princes Street mural; snow!

And Pride and Prejudice.

Tuesday, 3 February 2009


I stare off into space a lot and wander on the inside.
Did you know we are predetermined to find faces, even where there are none?
This is one of my favourite faces.