A great weekend.  Friday night we snuck onto a boat-shed for beers at sunset, the best spot on the harbour, it felt like we were in Greece again, just needed the ouzo. On Saturday I spent the day at pottery, practicing at the wheel, bowl after bowl after bowl listening to strange gypsy baroque music on a radio station with no talking, no ad's. Saturday night  we had friends over, built a fire in the jungle-yard and stayed up til 4am talking about why we do the things we do, about the addictive state of grace that can happen when you create or when things just get perfectly right for a moment. The combination of beer, cicada's, Will Oldham and the hot, lush, peat-y smell made me conscious and happy.

And today we went looking at open homes, nosiness more than actually ready to buy. Fell for a little 2 bed cottage with a big separate recording studio.  Andy is desperate for it and I see his calculations trying to twist and squeeze blood out of a stone.

But this life is good enough for now.

What moves me #1:  Historical photo-portraiture. Collecting portraits of people (and a few dogs!) who pose for someone who loves them.  I have dozens I've picked up from markets all over the place.  Or just wondering about people in pictures from the past, like these 'Portraits de criminels Australiens dans les annees 1920'.  What did they do?  I love the guy who 'refuses to open his eyes'!  They all look like people I'd like to know.





More here.

And here is an incredible story about the 'undiscovered' photographer Vivian Maier.

There's so many blogs out there.  So many with beautiful photography, cute fashion, sweet illustrations & jewellery & craft.  All this lovely stuff.  I'm falling for it in one way and tiring of it in another, and I've only been looking for a few months.  I don't know, it makes me happy and inspired but sometimes it makes me feel hollow and saturated.  What does it all mean?  These little pictures, these windows of pretty things, pretty lives?

It makes me question what really gets me.  From all this stuff, what is it that moves me, resonates, galvanises me?  I'm questioning that.  I'll let you know what I come up with.

Day off tomorrow and I feel like closing off the world and hiding away with books and music and wine and plotting what I'm going to make at my first pottery class on Monday.  I've decided to be a famous potter.  Can't be that hard.

Thanks to my first two commenters (both bloggers I follow keenly). I feel like such a blogging virgin.  Does it get less awkward?

Walking home from work on Thursday I was stopped in my tracks by the reflection on the Civic of the building opposite.  I was so mesmerised by the light I didn't even notice the beautifully dressed women crossing until I looked at the image on my computer.

Andy's napping, wrapped in white cotton sheets and pillows.  An afternoon nap before we head out to watch the Auckland anniversary fireworks and hopefully, a few ciders down by the water.  We spent the morning at the markets where I picked up a strange painting for $5 which I'll photograph soon, bought a watermelon and plums and headed off to the beach, Murawai this time to see the ganet colony.  Ganets are romantics. They perform the most graceful dance to attract their mate then once mated they stay together forever, travelling each year to Australia then returning to Murawai and their same nest to breed again.

Nesting.  We stopped and looked at this sweet relocation home in Kumeu. I loved it.  We are thinking Birkenhead might be affordable, went for a drive and there are some beautiful lush sections.  Just have to avoid the suburbia blocks.  Weird, never thought I'd think of moving away from the city but starting to feel excited about the prospect of our own place...anywhere... with trees and grass and decking. Andy is determined to plant fruit trees as soon as we get a place. Mmmm. Feijoas.

Btw, I know we look like twats with the same fake RayBans but it's ok because fortunately, we are twats.

We made it.

Then Rio.  If you do go to Rio, we can give the name and number for Maria's Rooms in Cocacobana - lovely, airy room in her house - she's lovely and the house is in a very safe part of Rio. xxx

It was the first time I'd made lipbalm and it turned out beautifully.

Beeswax - about 2 tbsps or a chunk about 3cm long by 2cm
Rosehip oil (or any other oil) about 5 drops
Vanilla essential oil about a drop or two
Coconut oil (cold pressed) - about 2 tbsps

I just put the beeswax in a glass jar and melted it in a pot of hot water.  Added the coconut oil and melted that in the same way.  Then mixed in the other oils, filled a 50g container and a smaller one.  Allow to cool.

'I haven't posted in such a long time...what shall I post about baby?' 'Post about me'.  Ok.

So sickly sweet it'll make your tummy hurt.  But obviously, I'm kind of proud of them.  They're my presents for the Coombes handmade mid-winter-actually-now-more-like-spring Christmas this weekend.  Jars of peanut butter brownies for the boys.  Jesus, call me Martha Stewart, what's happened to me...where's my cigarettes and beer?

I brought back an Inca God-of-the-Home from Peru.  Actually I bought back two, one for my mum and dad and one for us.  Putting this little god in the home would keep the home-place safe, happy and free from evil.  When I unpacked them from the newspaper after four months of travel, one of them was broken.  I gave my parents the unharmed god.  Mine, I just propped up in the kitchen, in two halves.  We were infested with cockroaches first off.  Then a water-pipe burst, flooding our downstairs room.  We later found out the pipe was actually chewed through by rats who then took over the roof above our bed for two months.  Later on we were burgled (I lost my camera and kit).  The dryer caught fire, the mildew in the house spread to our bedrooms.  It was sometime between the rats and the burglary that I glued the god back together and I've glued him back together three times now.  Even when I put him away; in a drawer; at the top of the kitchen shelves; in a suitcase he gets dropped, caught on something or swept off.  What will happen if I bury him?  The inca's don't seem to have a forum on the internet.  Can I put throw him away?  Give him to the Sallies?  He is fixed at the moment, sitting on my bookshelf.