Sunday, July 24

The things you don't see

At every door there stands
A weeping sentinel.
At most, they are not seen
At some, their tears don't shine
But there stands, at every door
A weeping sentinel.

Mostly happy to hide,
into shade and shadows
amongst the leaves of exotic
trees, which despite
their roots, have travelled
lands and homes, have seen
that every door there stands
A weeping sentinel.

There are sights the Weeping
Sentinel sees, details -
Glimpses often missed by
those who pass their frontiers
For fleeting moments that exist
Solely on the thresholds
Of the Weeping sentinel.

Saturday, July 23

Looking forward to going back

... to work and being a florist, that is.

Notes on sleeplessness

Tonight I watched the pools
of Heliotrope bleed
my cheeks, as the hours
spreading, seeping
downwards, outwards
from blurring eyes.

Friday, July 22

More Parisian jewels

Still living on the memories!

Thursday, July 21


Thinking, I do lots of it. I'm sure you do too. 
I've been thinking lately; how much is too much thinking? There are different types of thinking; how many can you think of, etc. etc. 
Actually, I have been pondering, that is thinking, without being particularly attached to those thoughts. Mostly I ponder possibilities: what if ..? and maybe one day ..? or what about if tomorrow I ...?  etc. etc.
In my current state of in-between-ness, I have plenty of time for such musings. And I am starting to get that exciting, tingling feeling that soon the pondering will be over and things are actually going to start happening ...
In the meantime, I'm just being, trying to ponder rather than think. I'm visiting friends and playing with paint, just because I can. I start writing things but don't finish them because I'm not in that spot right now. I'm taking in information and letting it slowly catalogue itself. 
A dear friend of mine sent me this program to the 2011 Stroud Textile Festival's "Textile Trail" and I have been drooling with jealousy over the images of hand-weavers set  up in their cute little Costwald studios; weaving away. 
Patience, Lindsey, patience ... hmmm, ponder ...

The beauty of synchronicity

 The most fantastic web of wonderful imagery was created for me while I was overseas. I'm trying to keep it going now that I am home but really, all I have left is memories and photos; inspiration wanes already! 
The unifying factor was this most divine book, entitled "The Children's Book". I think it totally appropriate - in this instance - to judge a book by it's cover. The cover illustration is mesmerizing and the tale even more so. Set in England during the Edwardian era, the tale evokes the spirit of the Arts and Crafts movement and of Ruskinian ideals. There are sumptuous descriptions of artworks and clothing. There is insight into the very first days of the Victoria and Albert Museum and a detailed illustration of the Parisian Exposition Universelle. There are fairytales and theatrics; really, what more could one ask of a book? 
With this web of imagery and tales already installed in my little mind, I travelled. Everything I saw, matching up like pieces of a fantastical puzzle. I journeyed through picturesque Cornwall, took long train rides, went to the V&A, saw "The Cult of Beauty" exhibition, went to Paris, visited the Musee des Arts Decoratifs, saw Le Petit Palais and Le Grand Palais, which were built for L'Exposition Universelle mentioned above. Everything twined together like Morris' very own "Honeysuckle". 
Makes me want to be a textile designer, again!