Category Archives: My home
Can’t wait for it to fill out with bountiful crunch
A matter of focus…shadows throw doubt on the matter. These are plume poppies. Their wildly serrated leaf margins, a giddy dance for the eye, contrast with their calm, green-grey openness, like palms being held up for us to read.
For Ulrich who would have been here like a shot and whom I am going to miss forever. Everything’s a story. My life, a myriad of stories trailing behind me: childhood, MA in Fine Art, my husband and two sons, … Continue reading
If you look very carefully at the framed print above Peter’s ship you might spot the sea captain’s ship on his mantelpiece. Thank you Shirley for sending us this from the Edward Ardizzone exhibition in London.
\ An unnamed, unknown piece of green smuggled by my mother from my sister’s garden in Atlanta in her suitcase is later broken off from its resting place in a pot in her garden in Johannesburg and finds a place … Continue reading
Variegated nasturtiums growing in our garden make me dizzy with delight. Inspiration for ink-swirl marbled endpapers for a book both green in content and style? It’s on this note that I wish to say farewell as we venture off on … Continue reading
Rub your hands in glee, Mr Fly. You’ve landed on a yellow bombshell in my garden.
The view from the kitchen into the train room on a spring night. A sweet picture of total immersion. Peter is servicing a loco. He is choofed with life.
Where is my husband when I wake up in the morning? It’s only 5:30am, the light has only just started to seep in through the windows. The scuffle of the bedclothes on his side shows an early rising with purpose. … Continue reading
From what? Simply from the flowers blooming in my garden…