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tyalgum spring fair

oh I do love a good country fair!

stalls heaving with homemade chutneys and jams

colourful cupcakes smelling of lavender and rose

giggling girls painting flowers on their faces

men with cleverly crafted wooden garden planters

lovely hand sewn aprons with matching oven mitts

gentle voices singing your favourite tunes


and of course the petting zoo!

today I give you  nietzsche:


” is not the sea the peacock of peacocks?

even before the ugliest of all buffaloes doth it spread out its tail,

never doth it tire of its lace-fan of silver and silk.

disdainfully doth the buffalo glance thereat, nigh to the sand with its soul,

nigher still to the thicket, nighest, however, to the swamp.

what is beauty and sea and peacock-splendour to it?

this parable I speak unto the poets.

verily, their spirit itself is the peacock of peacocks, and a sea of vanity!

spectators, seeketh the spirit of the poet – should they even be buffaloes!

but of this spirit became I weary; and I see the time coming when it will become weary of itself.

yea, changed have I seen the poets, and their glance turned toward themselves.

penitents of the spirit have I seen appearing; they grew out of the poets.

– thus spake zarathustra.”


spring is …

early morning sunshine softening the memory of the night’s chill on your cheek

crouching down in the long grass as the bees and bugs buzz busily amongst tiny flowers

fuzzy calves staring at you obstinately through the morning’s mist as you walk down to the creek

rain, lots of rain, and then more rain, and then some rain

seeds sprouting vigorously, doubling overnight it seems in the moist, wormy soil in the veggie patch

birds everywhere, singing, nibbling at the star jasmine, bathing in the rainwater filled galvanised bin bird bath, swooping as you ride your bike down to the general store,

a slick of sweet sticky gloss on your lips as you run out the door

throwing your swimmers in the boot just in case its warm enough to jump in next time you drive past the beach

sweet smells in the air night after night that make you breathe just that little bit deeper each time you go outside for a moonlit walk

fresh organic beetroot carrot apple ginger juice for breakfast, big red radishes and tender leaves ripe for the picking

country fairs with heaving stalls, freshly squeezed lemonade and handmade wares

spring … aaah, how I welcome thee!


”don’t torture yourself gomez – that’s my job” [snip, snip]

my favourite scene from the addams family, the gorgeously noir morticia (played superbly by anjelica houston), deadpan face as she calmly cuts heads of roses whilst delivering this line…

originally inspired by the goddess of goth, and sprinkled with a good dash of old world romance and victorian poetry, I offer up the Roses Noir series (I’m sure there’s a bit of nick cave in there, and a touch of ‘how do I love thee’…..)

each individual creation evolves over a period of time… I start with forging strips of copper by hand into the teeny tiny roses, which is a process in itself. then, I begin composing the pieces into rings, earrings, pendants. the ring bands and earring posts are sterling silver (925), and I have oxidised both the silver and the copper to age the metal. I love the depth of colour in the copper …. the beautiful thing about these roses noir is that the colours will continue to change and evolve over time, as the patina matures on the copper – just like life. Pretty exciting huh?

some days I am more in touch

with the sheer vulnerability of life in this place

this feeling

is a hole

in my heart

that hurts

when I breathe


the incredible intensity

of this feeling

it stops me

I stop

I am stopped



life goes on in its mysterious unfolding

but I am no longer moving

I simply observe

each breathe rasping loudly in my chest in this awareness

the breeze through the trees is a crescendo of air to my ears

bells ring and the spirals of sound dance around my head

some talk of gypsies
others of regret
and some, some talk of love

may love flower in your heart today

my wild, wild rose

may it fill your chest

spill out your arms your legs

and into the universe

as infinitely as the sun shining down on all things

I love you



a thousand forests

sometimes I write down in random places

things that touch me

and then I find them some other when

and I remember again the wonder of that moment

when the words first entered my world and changed me

today I came across this one

‘the creation of a thousand forests is in one acorn.’

this line inspired me to spring clean my studio

to allow the current of creativity to spill out onto the walls

and the furniture

I hope you like it as much as puss and I do