Posts from May 2022

possibility

May 31, 2022

Possibility –– it’s one of my favourite words. Derived from the Latin, possibilis, “able to be done,” possibility walks hand-in-hand with hope, potential, and the idea that there is always room for something else to emerge, something different, unexpected and exciting. It’s how I feel about sunsets, sandcastles and Spring. It’s how I feel about white walls and lumps of raw clay. It’s how I feel when I come home from a holiday, or when two colours merge to create a new one. I have a ring –– my most treasured ring –– that is a small and brilliant diamond, secured within a bezel and surrounded by a moat of gold. The design is utterly simple, and while I love it as it is, I sometimes imagine tiny diamonds floating in the “moat”, or one day filling it with cerulean enamel. I love that the negative space around the stone leaves room for possibility. Much harder for any of us to accept is that alongside the beauty of possibility comes the terror of it. And that even though we know that possibility as a concept is free and fluid and unwritten, and that we have little to no control over its movement, we still shut ourselves off from the possibility of that which we fear. To embrace possibility is to embrace every facet of a multifaceted thing. Even the surfaces that the light does not touch. And hope that, “able to be done,” means that we will survive –– and maybe even thrive –– for having held it.

around and around

May 30, 2022

Textiles in vivid colours by Harriet Chapman.

Lilacs in green glass.

A pool with Italian tiles.

Scalloped skirts.

Pool party à la Slim Aarons.

Drawings of whales in the log of the ship Indian Chief kept by Thomas R. Bloomfield (1842–1844). Source Public Domain Review.

hairstory

May 26, 2022

Ballerina meets librarian –– such is the small, low bun. It’s where I’ll be for a while until my hair is long enough to wear it in a top knot again. I liked the bob, I really did. It gave me the change I yearned for. I used my hair dryer so much it blew a fuse. I bought mousse. And diamante bobby pins. I considered different necklines. It was fun. Like a sojourn in the French countryside. And now I’m ready to come home.

family drama

May 26, 2022

It’s a strange feeling when a television show you’ve watched for years, that you’ve connected with deeply, and that’s carried you through many highs and lows comes to an end. Dawson’s Creek, Friends, Sex and the City –– all these shows left me with that feeling. It was always Pacey. Of course Rachel got off the plane. And that scene of Miranda bathing Steve’s Mum will forever be printed in my mind. It wasn’t until many years later with Schitt’s Creek that I felt this way about a television show. Its characters are drawn with such beautiful hamanity and nuance, that anyone watching feels absolved of their own foibles and failings. Which brings me to This is Us, a multi-generational family drama that has doubled as a warm blanket, hot water bottle, and cup of honey tea since 2016 when I first started watching. What I realized last night, as I watched the final episode, is that what I’ve clung to, and what has kept me going, (and watching) all these years, is the hope that everything will be okay in the end. Same goes for my friends on the Creek, at the coffee shop, and at the Rosebud Motel. Enter that strange feeling; we’ve been living with them, and through them for so long, and now that we know that everything is ok for them, we have nowhere else to look but to our own realities. And hope that we too get our full circle moments, our second chances, our one true loves. It’s naive, I know, to think this way. After all, it’s just t.v. But done well, the people and stories transcend the four corners of your screen and enter your home like they are your family. They aren’t, we know they aren’t, but the experiences –– the struggles and the triumphs –- they’re universal.

nature nurtures

May 25, 2022

For the first time in years, the Irises in are our front garden are set to bloom. Buried under construction fencing, and deprived of regular watering, it’s a wonder they survived at all. And in the back garden, our once magnificent fringe tree, now in recovery after a transplant, produced its first thin petaled, white flowers this week. Nature’s resilience never seizes to amaze me, and always makes me feel hopeful. I read an essay today on one woman’s passion for bringing unhealthy plants back to life. “The good news is that the solution to a plant problem is rarely complicated –– often the smallest adjustment can make the biggest change.” Human problems are more complicated, although the same applies; one small adjustment leads to another, and then another, and so on. Before we know it, we’re blooming again. I found this photograph of a baby Luma and I in the wisteria and white fringe of our old garden today. With so much change to our home over the last few years, it’s wonderfully reassuring to see that some things are as they were.

tactile

May 24, 2022

I really enjoy watching artists at work, and this behind the scenes of ceramicist, Lisa Allegra shows the many stages of her work from clay slab to architectural lamp. Her work is soft and organic, and the pieces beg to be held. With finishes like carob, almond and licorice it’s hard to tell if her vases are made from chocolate or clay. Her speckled “tot” vases are striking in their utter simplicity. I picture them filled with leafy greens.

outline

May 24, 2022

Ariana Heinzman‘s ceramics are a striking fusion of organic form with colourful surface decoration. It’s the heavy black outlines that accentuate her rich and zany designs. Beautifully playful, her vessels have an air of Marimekko meets Die Brücke meets African mud cloth meets Kazuri beads. That’s what I see, anyway. While I love her colour rich vases and cups, it’s the monochromatic ones that I’m most drawn to. One never tires of the bold, graphic appeal of black and white.

around and around

May 20, 2022

Polish opera singer, Ganna Walska’s California garden.

Gee’s Bend quilter, Annie Mae Young.

My idea of fun.

Bianca Pintan’s primary colours.

Ravneet Gill’s chocolate and vanilla marble cake.

Tulips, photo by Max Baur, 1930s.

the dark room

May 19, 2022

Filed away in the very large folder of things I love the idea of, but would never want to live with, is the jet black bathroom. Charcoal tiles, obsidian walls and a black marble tub fit for King Tut –– it doesn’t get darker and more decadent than that. Smoky mirrors do wonders for one’s self esteem. Keep the lighting dim and moody. Maybe I could live here, after all.

valley girl

May 19, 2022

It’s the Queen’s favourite flower. And it’s my Mum’s favourite flower, as well. I know she had hoped for Lily of the valley on her wedding day, but it was June so she opted for a bunch of Agapanthus instead. Agapanthus are also beautiful. Agapanthus comes from the Greek word for ‘Love.” Some species of Agapanthus are known as lily of the Nile. Back to the valley though. It’s little white bells look like they’re made of fondant. I read today that “Lily of the valley can take a while to establish, and it can be fussy. But when it takes hold, it is one of the hardiest, easiest ground-cover plants, producing a delightful show of May flowers that scent the air.” I felt an immediate kinship; “takes a while to establish… can be fussy. But when it takes hold.”

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