This moving film, directed by Jan Vrhovnik and shot on Italy’s Mediterranean coast, is steeped in nostalgia. We meet Giovanni Mancusou, a simple Calabrian man, and travel around in his Fiat Panda as he picks up fresh fish from the local port, and tomatoes off the vegetable truck. He sings and smokes, swats flies and shells beans in his hillside home. “I wish you’d appreciate the small things which we take for granted,” he says. “Because they are small, we may don’t see them. So, if you don’t see them, we are not going to appreciate it.” The film ends with a simple, yet beautiful al fresco dinner –– with five friends eating pasta, tomatoes, sausages and olives at sunset.

What a delicious thought; mounds of plump strawberries, fresh basil and melt-in-your-mouth Burrata. I’m not sure what else one needs out of summer meal. Maybe a crunchy, white baguette to scoop it all up with. Think of it as the savoury version of strawberries and cream.

I came across this painting today by Russian artist, Olga Rozanova and I was drawn to its elegant simplicity. It amazes me that someone can create something so compelling out of a line and two colours. This painting made me think of a plaque on a tree near my children’s school that reads, “where the grey light meets the green air.” Where the grey light meets the green air; coming up for air after a period of challenge. There’s something in this fresh, green line that echoes the hopefulness of those words.

I’m not gonna lie –– I have more than a little envy for people with pools. I’d be swimming lengths daily if I had one. And floating around on a lilo at sundown. Along with my tome on loos, I could happily write one on pools. I’ve studied them enough. My dream is single lane, Olympian in length, and tiled in a Majorelle blue. Salt water, of course.

Of all the elegant trees at the nursery, it was a stout Gingko Dwarf that I came away with. It was Angie‘s idea. Angie has worked at the nursery for 25-years, and her enthusiasm for the little Gingko won me over. “See, I’m covered in goosebumps.” “Me, too.” I responded. Enthusiasm really is contagious. Angie had long acrylic talons, lots of tattoos and her skin was the colour of caramel. “I’m out here every single day. Here, or on my boat.” The tree was a gift for our landlady, who is as passionate about plants as Angie is. Yuen wrote to us last week to say that the tree is happily planted in her garden. With so many good memories of that home, it makes me happy to know that we have a permanent place in it. Good luck, little Gingko –– grow strong.

I find Kurt Arrigo‘s underwater images quite mesmerizing. “From the Mediterranean to the Galapagos, to the Himalayas, remote South Pacific, and icy waters of Norway, Kurt’s majestic images capture the world’s natural beauty from above and below the ocean’s surface,” reads his bio. I love his images of whales and deep sea divers, but it’s the sea horses that took my breath away. There’s something mythical, otherworldly about them.

I came across this illustration today by French artist, George Barbier today and it made me wistful for lake life. On these very hot days, I like to imagine myself swimming like a trout in an ice cold lake. One of our favourite summer day trips is to the bluffs in Prince Edward County. The beach is all rocks and driftwood, and the water is bright blue, and invigoratingly cold. Very often, we’re the only people on the beach. We’ll get there this summer, I’m sure.

One day, I will own a Ronan Bouroullec painting. I don’t care which one, I love them all. They’re Miyake pleats on a canvas. I read that his approach is totally unconscious, and that he creates in the manner of the Surrealists, with his intuition holding the brush/pencil. They’re so simple, and yet breathtaking.

At first glance, I saw sequins, pearls and beads. This Moffat Takadiwa wall hanging is actually created from found bottle caps, foil caps, aerosol tops, and keyboard keys. The Zimbabwe-born artist is known for his intricate wall sculptures made from discarded objects. “He weaves together these small everyday objects to make impressive organic forms evocative of jewel-encrusted excess or a ritualistic kind of minimalism,” reads his biography. “The artist’s choice of materials communicates his concern with issues around consumerism, inequality, post-colonialism and the environment.” Have a closer look at the spiritual garbage man’s (that is how Takadiwa describes himself) work –– it’s kind of astonishing how something so beautiful can spring from everyday discards.