These unknown things

How to…

How to write and what to write…! 

So much in these last three weeks has changed. In reality it started to change so much further into the distance than that, it is just we hadn’t noticed yet.  Picture of the sunset through brambles

I took this picture on the recently.  I couldn’t help but feel that this is exactly where we are. Wanting to get through the other side, back to where the light is but first we have to scramble, somehow, through the brambles.  But there is an end and that I think is important to remember.  This had a beginning, middle and it will end.  Even if it takes some time.

Spring is here and bringing with it as it always does ~ Hope.  I am distracted by birds outside of my window.  It is purposeful distraction. I put a bird feeder outside with that intention two weeks ago.  I want to see the bubbling of life. These little feathered beings bring me back to the here and now rather than dwelling to much in future unknowns and uncertainties.  I am grateful (and lucky) for this view.   

Today I was reminded of Emily Dickinson.  Interestingly she was a recluse, preferring to write to friends and family rather than seeing them face to face. She wrote this about hope and in the absence of any better words for now I thought I would leave this here. x

“Hope” is the thing with feathers

“Hope” is the thing with feathers –
That perches in the soul –
And sings the tune without the words –
And never stops – at all –
And sweetest – in the Gale – is heard –
And sore must be the storm –
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm –
I’ve heard it in the chillest land –
And on the strangest Sea –
Yet – never – in Extremity,
It asked a crumb – of me.


I am still working in my workshop at home.  I have taken that decision for now, unsure as so many of us are about what is (or if there is) a right way to do things as everything seems to change day by day. I am going out once a week to post pieces as well as picking up supplies.

I hope you all are doing okay out there x


Edited: I stumbled upon this poem this evening as I was writing.  It caught my attention as some warm well ordered words do.  This below is a small excerpt but If you want to listen to the whole poem you can click here.  It is called “The March of Progress” by Henry Normal. The whole programme is great to listen to but this particular poem starts at around 18.50.

“This is what is, not what ought to be,

we stumble, we fall, we fail, and we learn,

Under gravity we adapt to seasons and tides,

Through chance as much as much as design

We illustrate from this juncture

Only what has survived

but in the richness of human culture

we carry the lives of those that falter

As again, we step into the unknown in all directions”







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