April 19, 2019

There was a time when a shindig wasn’t a shindig if the guests didn’t dance. I don’t know what your plans are this weekend, but between our seders and egg hunts, let’s try and fit in a foxtrot or two.  Happy Easter! Happy Pesach!

fatta a mano

April 19, 2019

One of the many very wonderful things that has come out of pottery, is the community of people its connected me to. When I meet a fellow potter, there’s an instant draw. Just like when I hear a British accent on the streetcar. Through clay, I’ve met such beautiful, daring, determined and persistent women. It’s thrilling to be inspired, and to feel that I inspire others. This is community. But it’s not just my fellow makers. The supporters, the champions of handmade, some friends, some strangers, are such an important part of this community. They invest in our work, and thus acknowledge the time and thought and joy and frustration that goes into each piece. “This will be perfect for all the Middle Eastern food we’ve been cooking,” one lovely buyer said at a sale yesterday with my platter in hand. “I love that this bowl is a little unstable,” said another buyer of a wobbly castoff. “And I love that you appreciate that imperfection,” I responded. One couple snapped up five pieces. Likely two weeks of work. “I love your ceramics,” she beamed, while throwing her arms around me. These moments are a thrill, for us both. “Buy from humans,” my friend, Katherine Holland says. It’s such a different pleasure to spoon up ice cream from a wonky, handmade bowl or plonk daffodils into a vase that shows the markings of its maker. I am so grateful to all the people who motivate me to make, who celebrate the mistakes, are inspired by them, even, and who choose to bring my heartfelt creations into their homes.

from a far

April 18, 2019

I was dashing along an Annex side street today, when I caught a glimpse of something that brought me to a halt. My daughter, walking home from the playground. There she was, leggings hiked up to her knees, jacket unzipped, moseying down the street arm in arm with her teacher and a little boy half her size. I bellowed her name, “Luma, Luma!” For a smidgen of a second she had no idea who I was, so engrossed was she in her other world. I watched her on her road back to school, blowing kisses from afar, relishing the entire minute that she remained in sight. We know our children so well, their every mood and whim, each and every  freckle on their cheeks. So, to see them out in the world is precious, because it’s a perspective we rarely get.


April 16, 2019

I love how tulips keep growing, even when they’re cut. And that even if you try to tame them, they’ll always move in the direction they want to. Towards the light. Towards each other. They’re not the grandest of flowers, (although there are some fancy varieties) but they’re trusty and true. I just don’t think you can ever go wrong with a bunch of tulips.

rebel rebel

April 16, 2019

There’s a flower shop in London, Rebel Rebel, that designs arrangements that are a big, bold and wild expression of love. The style is mad cap and exuberant. And no bouquet is ever the same. I came across this image today, and it reminded of Rebel Rebel’s approach to blooms. It’s a wild English garden smooshed into a vintage Porche.

needle and thread

April 12, 2019

My great auntie Polyxene was a skilled needlepointer. I have two bottle green velvet cushions of hers, beautifully embroidered with flowers. If she was still alive, I might ask her to monogram me a pair of velvet slippers. Have a look at the work that Hunt & Hope do; cushions, headboards, poufs etc all hand-stitched with gorgeous and colourful needlepoint designs. This little footstool is utterly charming. Auntie P’s cushion would look grand with it.


April 11, 2019

I didn’t go to a prom, or wear a corsage, but at that age, I would have likely worn carnations and baby’s breath on my wrist. Today, I’d opt for a giant peony, or a dhalia the size of a dinner plate. I like this dried option, too. It’s so delicate and whimsical. As for the dress, tiers of glitter are always good on the dance floor.

private eye

April 10, 2019

I love this shot of Jackie Kennedy and Marella Agnelli being photographed by paparazzi while vacationing in Ravello in 1962. Jackie is sporting “futuristic” Renauld of France sunglasses and quoted as saying, “that’s why I always wear my dark glasses. It may be that they’re the public looking at me, but none of them can ever tell which ones I’m looking back at. That way I can have fun with it!” The red dress is fabulous!


April 10, 2019

I was searching for a gift for my niece’s birthday, and I came across these adorable printed rompers. She’s only two, so the gift is more for my sister-in-law and brother. She’d be happy tearing through the paper it’s wrapped in! Truth be told, if I could pull it off, I’d wear one myself. Romper, espadrilles, big old sun hat. Why not?

glass act

April 8, 2019

Over the years, we’ve amassed a collection of coloured glasses — lapis blue tea glasses from Tangier, tumblers in amber, sage and marmalade from a vintage shop in Toronto, and ten ice creams glasses in red, pink and a smokey quartz that were a gift when we got married. A few months ago, I added six jubilantly coloured glasses to the collection, snapped up at Heathrow Airport of all places! This image on the right (from Bohemian Living by Robyn Lea) inspires me to display them on open glass shelves so we can enjoy the kaleidoscopic colour as the light pours through.

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