I spy.

Floor show.

I spy.

My new favorite old lamp.

The big reveal.

Okay, so I have been a little distracted and kind of completely not doing anything aardvarky for the last wee while.

But with good reason.

I have been quietly beavering away at an entirely different kind of project, namely making my life more like what I would like it to be like.

I have quit my job. Quit, quit, quit. Done, finished, resigned, left the building. And I have applied for PhD candidature on a project that I am absolutely super excited about. I think this is possibly my most creative act of the year so far. Certainly it is the act that has required the most giant leap of faith and reassessment of the shape of my universe.

And all this rearranging of things has made me realise that for me, art art is only one aspect of creativity. Because, you know, life is art, right? So spending time re-shaping your life to be more fulfilling and interesting and engaging and generally more like the kind of gal at the party whom you go home really wishing you had a chance to talk to, that's an art too. 

Also, I have been making gardens. At my house, in the backyard and down the side. Making gardens is good. And now I am like some kooky garden pervert and drive around just staring at other people's gardens and checking out their foliage.

So this year*, I am very optimistically going to attempt to -
1. revive the aardvark
2. write a PhD (ok, some of it)
3. do work that I enjoy
4. walk the dog every day
5. feed my child something vaguely nutritious every once in a while
6. keep the new gardens alive
7. paint the house
8. not get caught in another job that doesn't suit me
9. spend Sundays with my husband
10. start a new business with my friend Bec.

 * Yes, I am aware the the traditional time for new years planning has passed and we are now in March and it is way too late to pull a bunch of bogus resolutions out of my arse. But that's just how I roll.

Bisy backson.

I'm not going to say I'm back. Because that implies some kind of rekindled dedication to regular posting, and I'm just not sure if that is a reality that I can commit to at this very second.

At the moment, there is a great deal of thinking important thoughts going on inside my head. This is quite taxing and requires a relative degree of madness.

For therapy, I have been painting parts of my house.

I have decided, that with it's expansive walls and super high ceilings, painting whole rooms of the house in one go is an overwhelmingly large task. And I suspect such giant tracts of colour would perhaps be overwhelming for the sets of eyeballs that live inside the house. So instead I am painting small parts of rooms and experimenting with the ways in which little moments of passing colour can change the feel of the place. 

I have tried to photograph some of this but there is a giant thunderstorm outside and no natural light except of the extremely gloomy kind and it all just looks a bit blerg. I will wait for a sunny day and then share the joy of the very small painting project with you.

The insane storminess is a bit of a theme around here lately. It has been relentlessly rainy. But because I am a sterling dog owner, I have been taking my dog out in the extreme super wetness. This is what the beach looked like a couple of days ago when I was there with my dog and she made friends with another dog called Rufus who looked scary but was really quite nice. Rufus is a pretty good dog name I think.

Night life.

We get some pretty spectacular views of the steelworks from our new house. At first I thought it might be a bit oppressive, but actually, it's just gorgeous. And it's not even noisy or even one bit stinky. I am becoming quite fond of it.

Bread Winner.

Honey.

Rice.

Milk, yeast, seeds.

 Flour.

Rest.

  Grow (the Godzilla phase).

 Voila!

And for my next trick...

Today I am going to make bread. It is ridiculous that someone as bread dependent and food obsessed as myself cannot produce their own bread. Really. So, I'm going to brave the unpredictability of yeast and attempt to conquer the hitherto unexplored realm of homemade bread. I may even wear an apron and a pair of birkenstock sandals whilst I do so. If only I had enough hair to plait and a goat in my kitchen - then I would feel authentically rustic.

Stay tuned for results.