a reluctant black butterfly
leaving for the school halloween party
+ fretting about all the ghosts she might bump into.

(butterfly wings made :: with a little help from martha)



i was 11 + 1/2
you were 0
when they put you in my arms

+ you've been a bundle of joy ever since - happy birthday little sister!



can't you just hear
the quiet splashing of that oar
echoing through deepest childhood?

i love how sometimes in julianna swaney's work something - perhaps even sinister - is about to happen just off the picture.

or then maybe nothing at all.



spent a few hours at ayia thekla beach yesterday
hoping the sea air would clear our colds

and make us forget that we'd rather be
on a train from paris to kortrijk

a young mother sang a lullaby in russian
while we picked the world's tiniest seashells from the sand.



it's always like this      -      overnight      -      a handful of raindrops
and summer scuttles out the back door.

i love the new shadows
but not our first cold.



last monday
K saw dawn break
over the jardin du luxembourg

before flying on to tunis,
where he picked up these pretty cakes.

(the light pink one with gold foil
didn't last long enough to make it into the picture...)



there was very little light in the kitchen this afternoon
but i couldn't resist the studiousness
with which she was writing her shopping list.



and a tea towel fetish (even in honeysuckle pink)?

i plead so guilty. one of these days i'll post the archive . . . not the one in the cupboard (that's barely worth looking at) - the virtual one.



infinite comfort + pleasure in everyday objects:

/ handcrafted kakudo butter case by oji masanori (on the right, in maple) from analogue life
// mass-produced wool-rich blanket by kazuyo nomura for ikea