Monday, 9 February 2015

Hearts. And cups.

There is a day in the middle of February that is set aside for hearts. Though, if we choose, every day can be a day for hearts. Little hearts, big hearts. An elderly man who I often pass on my walk (we only ever nod and smile at each other as we meet), stopped me this morning, laughing how we always pass each other at some point on the walk. He told me I always had a smile for him (I didn't know that!) and it made him happy. Him telling me that cheered my day. He told me his name so that the next time we pass each other on our walks we would know each other.
For Valentine's Day, my A4 print, "We're Always Connected by Underground Wires," available in my small on-line shop.

And, speaking of connections, I had a lovely cup-of-tea-interview with A Butterfly in my hair blog. This is how many cups of tea I drank while being interviewed! It is nice to be connected with so many tea drinkers :)

PS. Did you know St. Valentine is buried in Dublin?

Monday, 2 February 2015

Take a seat

Take a seat. Or pull up a chair.
Just show up. Every morning. Or every evening. Or in the afternoon.
Do you have a chair to sit? To be. A seat for a few moments of meditation, a few minutes of reflection. Or reverie. A seat to watch the sunrise or sunset.

February has blown in with the North wind. I heard a weather forecaster describe the north wind as a "clean" wind. Clean and fresh and cold she has ushered February in.

Friday, 30 January 2015

Paint the sky

End-of-January-evenings are painting the skies with  pink and orange sunsets. And end-of-January-evenings' light is touching further into my room and longer into the days. Birds going delirious every evening this week between 4.30-5pm, making my last half hour of the day painting go very happily.  Their sounds seeming to touch simultaneously on both old memories and future hopes of Spring. How is it that every year Spring feels both old and new?

Tuesday, 13 January 2015

Early Birds and Night Owls

 Early birds

Night owls

Are you an early bird or a night owl?
Me? I am trying to be an early bird these days;)

For the early birds, some early blooming flowers (the purple-pink Morning Glory) and the chirps of robin, wren and blackbird - usually the first to sing. Also a cup of morning tea to revive and why not some candlelight for the quiet time.

For the night owls, some flowers that begin to bloom in the evening (Four o'clocks, Evening Primrose and Moon Flower), the presence of candlelight. Hot chocolate with marshmallow helps too.

Thursday, 8 January 2015

2015, the gate is open.

You have been here a week already with us 2015. Seven days so far and no two the same; one day windy and stormy, next day clear and bright. 358 more days, to smile, to paint, to enjoy cups of tea, to be kind, to take time. To open gates and see where they will lead.

Tuesday, 23 December 2014

Nollaig Shona. Happy Christmas.

White winter berries, red berries, holly, scents of pine, rustling sounds, and Christmas roses (the white flower, I never knew there was such a thing!), cosy cups of warm and sweet, in-between last-minute things, ribbons, envelopes, twinkling lights brightening up the darkest nights. Wishing all these and warm winter wishes to all who have visited here in the past year. Thank you. See you soon.
And ♥️'s to those who might be lonely, alone or cold at this time of year.

A merry Christmas gift-away: if you would like a chance to win my print "We're Always Connected By Underground Wires",  A butterfly in my hair blog is spreading some Christmas joy along with some other beautiful handmade gifts by some talented and lovely ladies. Good luck!

Monday, 15 December 2014

Near and Far

Thinking of someone faraway? A friend on the other side of the world? A loved one ten thousand or just 10 kilometres away? My illustration, "We're Always Connected By Underground Wires" now available as an A4 print in my little on-line shop.  

Early evening very near - sunset at 4.07pm. Summer and sunlight a faraway memory, the closeness now of a candle and some twinkly lights.

Addressing envelopes with faraway addresses, a moment of nearness.