The Last Unicorn
June 4, 2009
This is my Bible. Whenever I am feeling sad or lost or lonely I open it up to a page, any page, and read the first paragraph my eyes fall upon. Within I find some solace or beauty or truth that I had forgotton. Today I read this;
Effortlessly proud, graceful as giraffes (even the tallest among them, a kind-eyed Blunderbore), the bowmen moved across the clearing. Last, hand in hand, came a man and a woman. Their faces were as beautiful as if they had never known fear. The woman’s heavy hair shone with a secret, like a cloud that hides the moon.My Bible was written by a Man, but that gives me a chance to hope that someday, I too, could create something that speaks to the heart within.
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Cloud Watching
June 3, 2009
We have had the most wonderful cloud shows lately. I am falling behind on my reading because all I want to do is gaze out of my window, or lie on my back in the middle of the football field where the brazillian soccer teams play and the willie-wag-tails catch things I can not see, lie there and imagine castles in the sky.
I think this one looks like a Sailing Ship beneath a storm.
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Autumn’s Ending
June 2, 2009
I like chasing sunsets. I followed this one through the empty streets and down down a steep hill, along a little forsaken alley where someone was sweeping up autumn leaves like molten gold. Autumn is the time of afternoons, of endings. I don’t really like them, they make me sleepy and wistful and a little bit sad. I must try very hard to remember that another dawn is not far away, just on the other side of winter.
I chased the Sunset all the way to my bench in the park, where I like to sit and write. There I lost it behind the trees and the clouds, so I gave up and walked home in the purple twilight.
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Still Water
May 29, 2009
You might think a swamp is an ugly place, but actually I’m rather fond of the one in my kingdom. It has an eerie dark beauty and I love the way the light filters through the trees onto the water.
This place I call the Sea of Violets. There is a little wooden bridge built so that you can cross it. The frogs croak here sometimes.
The Sign of the Seahorse
May 23, 2009
Beyond the ken of mortal men
Beneath the wind and waves
There lies a land of shells and sand
Of chasms, crags and caves
Where coral castles climb and soar
Where swaying seaweeds grow
And all around without a sound
The ocean currents flow
Graeme Base
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The City of Ember
May 18, 2009
The city of Ember is the only light in the dark world. Beyond Ember, the darkness goes on in all directions.
Both the girl and the boy were making urgent wishes. Doon’s wish was very specific. He repeated it over and over again, his lips moving slightly, as if he could make it come true by saying it a thousand times. Lina was making her wish in pictures rather than in words. In her mind’s eye, she saw herself running through the streets of the city in a red jacket. She made this picture as bright and real as she could. Jeanne DuPrau, The City of EmberThis film makes me imagine what it would be like to live in a world where the stars are just lamps strung across the sky.
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Blueberry Buttermilk Pancakes
May 17, 2009
1 1/2 cups self raising flour3 comments
375 ml buttermilk
1 egg, lightly beaten
1 tbsp butter, melted
1 cup blueberries
1. sift flour into bowl, add milk, egg, butter and stir until smooth, add blueberries
2. pour 1/4 cup of batter on to a heated, oiled frying pan
3. cook on one side until bubbles appear
4. flip
5. cook on the other side until golden brown
6. eat with lots of maple syrup
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Lost and Found
May 15, 2009
This is something fresh and new I’m trying. New things are scary, but sometimes scary is good. I am going to try writing my own story, in little parts. What I think, what I do, what I see. Like an old scrapbook, with pictures and quotes and movie tickets pasted in. There shall be recipes and stories for rainy days. Sketches and scribbles and sewing.
I want this to be simple. Simple, pure and heartwarming things make me smile. A spider’s web of memories and magic and fairy tales. A treasured keepsake journal for anyone to stumble upon. It won’t all be sunshine and butterflies, because life isn’t, sometimes its greyclouds and beestings, there will be a little of that too.
Most of all I want it to be real. Even if half of it is make-believe, it will be real to me.
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The Lost Princess
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