Saturday, 4 March 2017


I forced myself to kneel, when I did not wish to kneel.
He had me pray when I did not know the words.
I was crying for a god unknown whom I had slept with in the cradle,
And when I stood to leave red butterflies flew from my skirts, spraying me with earth.

The Outfit
Victorian Silk Satin Ballgown passed down from Granny Kiki
Red Faux Fur Hooded Coat just seen from Hell Bunny

The Music
Arvo Part - My Heart Is In The Highlands

Poem written by me

All photos taken by me, very quickly during naptime on New Year's Day, on my dodgy little camera

Tuesday, 24 May 2016


No one understood the perfume
of the dark magnolia of your womb.
Nobody knew that you tormented
a hummingbird of love between your teeth.

A thousand Persian little horses fell asleep
in the plaza with moon of your forehead,
while through four nights I embraced
your waist, enemy of the snow.

Between plaster and jasmines, your glance
was a pale branch of seeds.
I sought in my heart to give you
the ivory letters that say "siempre",

"siempre", "siempre" : garden of my agony,
your body elusive always,
that blood of your veins in my mouth,
your mouth already lightless for my death.

Gacela of Unseen Love by Federico Garcia Lorca
via here

                                                                         The Outfit
Dress - from a charity shop, originally Oasis
Flower Hair Clip - Accessorize
Vintage Chinese Paper Parasol - from Great Granny Kiki

The Soundtrack
Florence And The Machine - Delilah

I thought it was time to show my face after 2 years of twin parenting. The dark shadows and lines have inevitably worsened, but the desire to dress up like a hippy preraphaelite continues unabated!
ps. I'm finding the formatting of these posts seems to have changed weirdly, so bear with me if there are some big gaps like the one below!

Tuesday, 29 March 2016


“Love is a temporary madness. It erupts like an earthquake and then subsides. And when it subsides you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots have become so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation of promises of eternal passion. That is just being "in love" which any of us can convince ourselves we are. Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident. Your mother and I had it, we had roots that grew towards each other underground, and when all the pretty blossom had fallen from our branches we found that we were one tree and not two.”  
Louis de Bernieres, Captain Corelli's Mandolin

The Outfit
Dress: Charity shop
Skirt: from Granny Penny
Sandals: from Asos
Hat: Charity shop

The Soundtrack
Goldfrapp: Tales Of Us

I've not made a blog post for so long I'd almost forgotten how to do it! My babies are now walking talking toddlers, and most solitary free time is spent doing the laundry.
I did have a 20 minute break from childcare yesterday and the sun was shining so I took these photos as quickly as I could before I went back in to give the girls their bath.

To respect their privacy, I won't be showing my children's faces on this blog, but it feels ok to show you how big they've grown in these photos from our recent Easter egg hunt:

Sunday, 30 November 2014


Colour which, like music, is a matter of vibrations, reaches what is most general and therefore most indefinable in nature: its inner power.”  
Painter Paul Gauguin, via 1

 The Outfit
Maxi Dress: Charity Shop
Floral Head band: made from a floral band from a sunhat, charity shop
Sandals: Toast

The Soundtrack
Kate Bush: Hello Earth

Well here I am updating my blog rather later than planned, all those of you who are parents will have known my plan to blog once a month was laughable! The babies are 6 months old now and I am finally getting the occasional moment of spare time. This photoshoot, totally the wrong season, was taken in August 3 months after the babies were born, when they still took long enough naps for me to take photographs. I shall endeavour to create more posts in the months to come but it'll be a while before I can do so as regularly as I used to. Unfortunately I never get time to comment on your blogs anymore, I rarely have a chance to read them but I so love it when I do.

Tuesday, 1 July 2014

Two For Joy

From this belly....

came these baby girls, a little premature but so healthy and strong...

Introducing Snow White and Rose Red
(not their real names)

I am so happy. So exhausted, so happy!

I won't be showing any more photos of them on this blog until they're old enough to give their consent, but wanted to give you a glimpse.
Do hope you're all well, I'll be back online blogging and visiting you about once a month if I can.

Saturday, 3 May 2014

Under The Bower

Out of this wood do not desire to go:

Thou shalt remain here, whether thou wilt or no.

I am a spirit of no common rate;

The summer still doth tend upon my state;

And I do love thee: therefore, go with me;

I'll give thee fairies to attend on thee,

And they shall fetch thee jewels from the deep,

And sing while thou on pressed flowers dost sleep;

And I will purge thy mortal grossness so

That thou shalt like an airy spirit go.

Peaseblossom! Cobweb! Moth! and Mustardseed!

Extract of Titania's speech to Bottom, A Midsummer Night's Dream by William Shakespeare via  1

The Outfit
Blue Maternity Dress: Asos sale 
Blue Necklace used as Headband: charity shop
Gold Flipflops: free with a magazine years ago
Bracelet: Granny Penny's

Photographs taken last month at 30 weeks pregnant with twins

Sunday, 6 April 2014

The Present Of The Past

That green, green caravan.
Chipped paint and the smell 
of burning sausages.
A carpet of wild grasses and flowers 
spread before me, more majestic than
any red velvet line.
How I love this place.
The placid horses in the adjoining 
field watching in bemusement
as I place my spindly eight year old foot
onto Titania's carpet
and throw myself in the air.
The fauvist ballerina, all arched 
hands and pirouetting limbs,
flying into the sky
and then rolling into the earth,
grasping fistfuls of grass as if
readying myself to consume the
A haze of Beethoven's 
Pastoral Symphony in my
ears, my eyes, my mouth. I can taste
its mellow honey.
My mother claps her hands
 in smiles, beautiful tanned gypsy
woman icon in cheesecloth red.
Perhaps one day, if I laugh enough, 
I will be that woman.
Now is all preparation.
I am singing as I dance,
I am embracing the air as a trainee lover
and it plays waywardly with my 
dark curls, blowing them up high
above my head so that I grow a tall crown of hair.
Queen of the flowers.
I feel beautiful. The boys join in,
moving their bodies like mad 
little warriors fighting against 
an unseen force.
This is my freedom. Great blasts
of joy lift me out of
my insignificance and carry me on the wind,
heady summer carriage of hope.
The bonfire my father builds burns holes into the dusk.

Happiness poem written by me (and published in a national anthology) in 1999.

The Outfit
Vintage 1970s Maxi Dress: bought and worn by my Mum when pregnant with my younger brother

The Soundtrack
Van Morrison: Astral Weeks

Photos taken by me last month using my little digital camera at 26 weeks pregnant 

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