I love to develop fascinations in my creativity – through my lens or through my pen. Flowers, selfies, swans, yarn… At the moment I find that I am fascinated by the colours of a sunset casting the unpruned vine stems into silhouettes that, in turn, create abstract patterns of stark line and soft light.  I forget this sometimes. That I develop my creative fascinations through my practice. I think that I have nothing to write, nothing to take photographs of – no subject that calls to me. I sit and wait for inspiration to strike. And then I wait some more. And then a bit longer… before realising that inspiration…

Woke up just before 3.30 am to the sound of my alarm, pulled myself from my warm bed, switched the kettle on, and stared out of the window at the dark-skied morning and the silhouetted chimney tops.  At 5am, I was sitting in a cafe sipping on Chicken Pho while I joke with my son and take selfies. The departures board in the background tells us our gate will be announced soon, and earlier flights take to the skies. At 7am, we are in the sky ourselves, lifting up out of the clouds and into the dawn. At 11am, the French countryside unfolds with every passing mile as we make…

A really short post today, as I have to get up super early in the morning to catch my flight to Bordeaux. Which means that today has been more than a little hectic. Especially as I decided to send everyone who has purchased a 2017 My Word Goddess Reading so far an extra wee gift to support the deepening of their goddess connection. And that, my lovelies, was a *lot* of emails. So, after making up a lovely pdf to send out, and then emailing hundreds of women, and then checking in for my flight, ordering my taxi and packing(!), I made some space to go to knitting group with…

So, I found myself listening to an old interview of Liz Gilbert from last year. I found it by circuitous means. For truly, are there any other kind of means on the internet! One link led me to another, and then another and then to the podcast Ctrl Alt Delete. Scrolling down the list of episodes, I get to the very end and discover that Emma Gannon’s first guest was Liz. So I click play, pick up my knitting, and listen… Now, as with all interesting conversations with interesting people, there were a number of threads that continue to weave their way through my thoughts in the days that have…

I’ve made a mistake in my knitting. It’s not a significant mistake. And honestly, if you didn’t know the pattern, then you probably wouldn’t notice it. Which, I think, is probably the case for almost every single piece I’ve ever knitted. There’s a mistake in every garment. This used to frustrate me terribly. I would rip the rows back down to the place where the mistake was made, fix it, and then promptly make another. Perfection remained elusive. Which is what perfection does, I guess. I once knitted a beautiful poncho in a petrol blue shade of dk yarn. It was a *massive* project. Many many hours were poured into…