It’s been a while since I’ve written on here; years in fact. But something happened recently that I wanted to write about. Something that has had me musing about the power of a single moment, the legacy of photography, and how in this over-documented life, we should still choose to document it.
Read MoreLast week I was reminded about the emotional pull that a picture can have. On a trip to London’s National Gallery, my dashing date and tour guide reacquainted me with Piero della Francesca’s Baptism of Christ. As we entered the room with the painting front and centre, a wave of … well, I don’t know what it was, nostalgia I guess … whomped me.
Read MoreA few years ago, I found this quote in a magazine somewhere, and took a photo to keep it with me. In just a few lines it reflects the tug that we feel, us wandering children, who choose to live so from home.
It's blindingly simple.
You never fully understand or appreciate where you're from until you leave it.
Until you have to explain and defend it to others, to whom it is foreign.
Only then can you see why it is the way it is and why you love it. Nay, how intensely you love it.
If travel does one thing, it shows your roots in a way that nothing else can.
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Going home is always special, but now that my friends have started introducing cute little podgy people into the world, it's even better. This time I got to meet little baby Hunter, owner of the biggest eyes in history, and take some snaps. Meanwhile, I continue to be the proudest godmother ever of Ruby, who is a heart-breaker in the making.
Read MoreIt's been a busy couple of months. I've had a bucket load of freelance work which has consumed my every waking moment, as well as a trip back home to New Zealand. I've had weddings, birthdays, family occasions, and I kind of, sort of, bought a house(!). I've not had any days where time could wander and I could do as I choose.
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Through a comedy of errors involving an absent passport and a surprise birthday trip, I found myself on a weekend jaunt to Brussels a couple of weeks ago. My only previous visit to the city was a sad, grey tale of a group of rugby fanatics having their hopes dashed as the Les Bleus demolished Les All Blacks in 2007. I was looking forward to updating my Belgium anecdotes with something a little more positive.
Read MoreOn the very last day of 2014, baby Hunter arrived in a spectacular fashion - two weeks ahead of schedule in the early hours of the morning on Waiheke Island. The ferries weren't running, so no trip to the hospital as planned, instead he made his entrance after a mere four and a half hours in the spare room at his grandparents house.
Read MoreIn early 2014 I flew home for a couple of weddings and to visit my family, but also to meet my goddaughter Ruby for the very first time. Wandering around Hamley's one afternoon in search of a present, I saw Paddington Bear. With his little suitcase, his red boots, anorak and hat, he was perfect.
Read MoreWe've started using our lightbox as a lamp, which adds a warm little glow to the room. This evening I noticed the nice silhouette the lamp was casting from the glass of irises in front of it. The light was heavy, and the flowers colours subtle. I snapped a few experimental shots with some handy props.
Read MoreOne of my oldest friends is having her first baby. While she's a million miles away in New Zealand, I got to be there for the baby shower in a small way by making some baby prediction and wishes cards for the parents-to-be. They were printed onto Laid textured paper, so they had that nice tactile feel, and filled out at the shower by friends and family.
Read MoreMy mum just turned 65. You wouldn't know it though, she rushes around like a mad woman and has a better social life than I do. She's still going to keep working for now, but she'll cut down on her days a bit, and play a bit more golf. And despite never needing to take it, she's quite excited about the prospect of free public transport.
Read MoreIt's been 17 years since I first learned In Flanders Fields by heart. A chorus of 13 year old girls dutifully reciting; children who had never known war or conflict, who were far more concerned with gossiping about boys than the stories of a war long past. But here I am so many years later, on a different continent, at the place it all happened.
And unexpectedly, I am in tears. It starts with Atatürk's message.
Göreme at 6am is still. There's a slight chill, but no wind. The light filters through the sky, inky black softening around us as we stand on the roof of our hotel. At first you can just make out a few of the little clusters, black rounded shadows, dotted around the the outskirts of the town. But then as your eyes adjust to the light, you see more groups surrounding the town and out into the distance. Now and then, you see a burst of colour, a glow in the darkness as one of them is filled with burning gas.
Read MoreI saw an image on Pinterest a few weeks back, and liked the shadows as type effect so today I had a bash at making a few of my own. It was a bit of a brain exercise to get the text orientation right, more than I can really be dealing with while slightly hungover. Cutting in a straight line was difficult enough.
Read MoreI've recently moved out of cacophony that is Brixton, and to the leafy suburbs of Surrey. I've swapped the 24 access to dubious fried chicken and easy of the Victoria line commute for a quiet flat nestled on a lake that is home to some friendly and inquisitive ducks.
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