Have you read this? You should read it. I mean it, really. now.

In fact, I haven't read Eat, Pray, Love. I lied. To quite a few people. What I did do however, was listen to it on tape - in my car, my house, my studio, for two blissful weeks between school, chores, trips and food shopping. I wanted to read it, so I went to Bath Central Library to pick it up a few weeks ago but all they had was the audio version. The wonderful thing was that the audio version was read by Elizabeth Gilbert and so the voice on the page came to life and the tone, the expressions, the nuances of the written word were exactly as intended. What a treat!

Now, I am not a successful journalist/novelist, and neither have I just left a marriage, and nor do I live in Manhattan (oh, I wish!) but there are some basic similarities in my 'new chapter' to EG's 'new chapter' (the details of which I will spare you). What is plain to me is that I am in a true period of transition and growth, and that this is firstly, hugely exciting but secondly, absolutely terrifying. Reading books like this helps enormously, and creates a perspective within which the challenges and confusion begin to make sense.

What Elizabeth Gilbert manages to do (and my mum and sister can attest to this as they really have read it since) is to be both firmly rooted in what it is to be human, and confused, and making mistakes, and trying to correct those mistakes (both successfully and unsuccessfully) and searching for answers, and yet, also to be clear about what one really needs. There are successes, and moments of absolute clarity, which are inspiring to read (listen to) and through the voice of someone like Gilbert, those successes suddenly feel within reach.

My Sanctuary

I have been so blessed to have found this house. It is an old miner's cottage which was once a dark one-up, one-down, but which is now a two bedroomed cottage with a large living area, french windows and lots and lots of light. The skylights are coming into their own now that the mornings are brighter and the white walls throughout are chameleon like in the way that they change colour with the light.

Because I am not used to having quite so much space, my bedroom has been rather neglected in the planning and nesting process. It really is a blank canvas, and I am beginning to turn my attentions to the room, with its high ceiling and almost barn-like space. It is really similar to the yoga studio that I go to in design and I want to capitalise on the potential for it to be a really positive space. The house being a rental property I am reluctant (forbidden?) to change the colours of the walls, but am looking at ways of enhancing the peace of the room. I want it to be nourishing.

The throw on my bed was a carboot find, as were the two ex-military base bedside tables. I was thrilled a couple of years ago to find an identical set on sale for £90 in an antiques shop in Clapham, when I spent a mere £8 on mine. Similarly, I picked up the white chest at the bottom of the bed for about a fiver at the Gloucester Green market in Oxford - it was a nasty lilac colour, but is now painted in Laura Ashley's Twine.

I have been scouring my scrapbooks and copies of Living Etc to find inspiration, as well as googling various tags such as 'French bedrooms' and 'sanctuaries'...

Whilst I clearly want a little more comfort than this, I love how earthy the room is, and the eaves reminded me of my room. I thought a few natural items - the pebbles I have collected from beaches, snowdrops from the garden and ceramics - would really add to the vibe. If I could combine this earthiness with the glamour of the room below, I might well be striking the balance I am after....

The results of the last, and expectations of the next, project...

A quiet moment has allowed for a bit of a play with my camera as I potter around for a Saturday morning. The weeks are passing so quickly, and work is as chaotic as ever, but it has been wonderful this week to have some bright mornings and cold but very sunny afternoons. A quiet weekend is proving to be the perfect remedy for all that rushing about.

I ended up steering clear of birds, but the results of the printing course were satisfying. The experience lead mum and I to feel that we needed to go back to the Letterpress asap, now that we have got the hang of it. It was with great regret that we realised my grandfather had been a printer, and yet we had not kept any of his wonderful machines... If only we had known the joy of it!

This quote is from a favourite of mine, Gaston Bachelard's Poetics of Space, which considers the vital role that architectural spaces have on our psyche; the lino cut, as ever, has such a naturally primitive look to it that I felt it suited the tone of the quote. I was going for a Farrow and Ball-like tone in the ink, I love their earthy tones, and the printer that we worked with was just so patient with us both, that he helped enormously to make the perfect hue.

Next, I will be working on this battered but beautiful glass-fronted cupboard which needs a proper sand, some edges fixed, three new shelves and lots of pretty things inside. It's got potential, but my big question is whether to sand and leave as stripped wood, or to paint a similarly earthy grey to give a sort of Swedish vibe... decisions, decisions...

Enjoy the spring sunshine.

xxx

Looking for inspiration

I am in a creative mood at the beginning of this February half term, and have been mooching around the blogosphere to find ideas for a printing course that I am going on with my ma tomorrow. I have been, as ever, distracted by the WONDERFUL interiors on sites such as Rabbit and the Duck and This is Glamorous ; so much so that I seem to have lost my focus!

I am aiming for birds and cowparsley - which seems to have been a little overdone in recent months, but which I love due to the stark simplicity of it's structure; you can imagine God just saying 'yeah, ummm - just grow a stalk and then just have some little stalks just stickin' out of it or something' - 'any colour to the flowers God?' - 'Nah. White's good'. It sure is.

Being an Auntie

Things have changed a bit again round here recently. There must be something in the wind or the water that makes the world spin in a strange and eventful way once in a while, as over the last three months there have been major changes, tiny changes, hoped-for changes, unexpected, tricky changes and the planned and excuted change of a pregnancy and birth.

My big sister is a natural mummy, and she has produced the most extraordinary little thing I have ever seen - who looks just like her! I am so excited about getting to know this little girl - the first of many grandchildren for Granny and Grandfather - roll on Christmas hols so I can sit and hold her and know her.

Life in Somerset

I am settling, slowly, in my new neck of the woods. Life around Bath is wet and windy, and work is very nearly all-consuming, but bit by bit I am gathering the necessities for a content life here. I moved at the beginning of September to Bath, where I waited for a month while before moving into my cottage. I have taken the leap of faith and moved into a small village, only 8 miles from the Georgian delights of Bath, but it feels miles from the hustle, the shops, the nightlife... in fact the only night life I have seen thus far involves a pint or two in the local ex-miners pub. It's enough for now.

The move allows a time to contemplate and be still. I am still. When I am not at work at least...I haven't yet decided how long my country life will continue. A year or so at least, but while I feel the pull of city lights once in a while, I know that my heart is here for now. Besides. I have Wilfred now. He is a little bundle of joy, who happened to arrive with me the same week as my niece arrived with my sister, and while I am sure the comparison wouldn't sit favourably with all... it feels as joyful!



There are some wonderful characters to meet round here... I am beginning to get to grips with the local life... no doubt many adventures are to be had.

Just about ready....

...to face the world again.

I have been stuck in a hole of post-PGCE exhaustion, and now two weeks have passed since the end of term, and over two MONTHS since my last post, I feel just about ready to remember my blog and have a proper think about the little creative things in life.

It is no coincidence that I happen to feel in the mood for creativity whilst I am up in the wilds of Northumberland. I am surrounded by the hills, as well as the cast-offs from my (now pregnant) sister's potter's wheel, which are as beautiful as anything that she sells, just by being pale, delicate and hand-crafted. My excuses have run out, and now, despite the packing that needs to be done (oh, yes! I finally have the house that I have been waiting for!) I am finding the time for creativity.

I have missed you, creative spirit, you, who has been slowly ebbing away over the last nine months, as I have been swamped with deadlines and lesson plans, and the paperwork that teaching demands. I have missed the frivolity of playing with paints, and the handiwork involved in stripping paint from furniture and painstakingly restoring neglected objects to a loved possession. I look forward to the move because it will give me a new, blank, optimistic canvas, but now, while I wait, I am warming up again. Finding inspiration wherever I can and looking up with expectation and hope.