Tuesday, 23 August 2016


Time, a muffled sound of footsteps from down below, 
renovation has begun in the building across the street. 
I have lunch with Bo Carpelan
his words about aging are unembellished, 
yet filled with beauty. 
I taste his sentences on the tip of my tongue, 
vaguely sensing something about what’s yet to come 
under his curious but gentle gaze. 
A fly darts around, 
doesn’t seem to find peace for its restless soul, 
its wings carrying an air of midsummer 
in the middle of an August day.
The end of the summer
has a bittersweet tinge. 

"But a chair, sunlight, flowers:
these are not to be dismissed. 
I am alive,
I live,
I breathe,
I put my hand out,
into the sunlight."

- Margaret Atwood

Aikaa, kadun puolelta askeleet kantautuvat vaimeina, 
vastapäisessä talossa tehdään remonttia. 
Lounasseurana Bo Carpelan, 
hän puhuu vanhenemisesta, 
kaunistelematta mutta kauniisti. 
Maistelen lauseita, 
aavistan jotain hamaa tulevaa, 
tunnen uteliaan mutta lempeän katseensa. 
Kärpänen poukkoilee, 
ei löydä sielulleen rauhaa, 
tuo elokuiseen päivään häivähdyksen keskikesää.
Loppukesässä suloista haikeutta.

Tuesday, 16 August 2016


We celebrated our son at the weekend.
Faces dear to us kept showing up at the door,
 filling these rooms
with chatter, light and love,
while the heavens opened outside.
The afterglow still lingers.

On Monday things quietened down,
as both children returned to school,
allowing me to properly 
concentrate on work things again
after all these weeks of boho living.
Familiar patterns, 
yet new beginnings. 

I fancied poking my head here as well
and break the silence.
I still have some posts from France in mind,
but figured why not save some 
for those drizzly & blustery days 
later on in the autumn. 

Viikonloppuna juhlittiin poikaa.
Ovi kävi tiuhaan,
kun ukkospäivän keskellä
meille rakkaat ihmiset
täyttivät huoneet täyteen
 puheensorinaa, valoa ja lämpöä.

Maanantaina hiljeni,
molemmat palasivat kouluun,
minä  boheemin elon jälkeen 
keskittyneempään työn touhuun
hiljaisessa kodissa. 
Tuttuja juttuja,
silti uusia alkuja. 

Teki mieli tunkea nokka taas tännekin
hiljaisuuden jälkeen.
Ranskaakin vielä jäljellä, 
mutta ajattelinkin,
että niihin mielenmaisemiin
onkin houkuttelevaa palata
kun sade vihmoo ja tuuli tuivertaa. 

Wednesday, 3 August 2016


I'll murmur it,
today is one of those days.


Sunday, 31 July 2016


“To hear never-heard sounds, 
To see never-seen colors and shapes, 
To try to understand the imperceptible 
power pervading the world;"

"To fly and find pure ethereal substances 
that are not of matter 
but of that invisible soul pervading reality. 
To hear another soul & to whisper to another soul;"

"To be a lantern in the darkness 
or an umbrella in a stormy day;

To feel much more than know."

"To be the eyes of an eagle, slope of a mountain; 
To be a wave understanding the influence of the moon; 
To be a tree and read the memory of the leaves; 
To be an insignificant pedestrian on the streets 
of crazy cities watching, watching, and watching."

"To be a smile on the face of a woman 
And shine in her memory 
as a moment saved without planning.” 

Friday, 29 July 2016


Some summery inspiration
photographed by Carl Bengtsson

Happy weekend! 


Monday, 25 July 2016


We had a girls' day out on Saturday.
We visited a lovely garden
had some lunch,
then poked our heads
in small boutiques
before finishing off with cake
washed down with coffee for me
strawberry juice for her. 

I cherish times like this with my two.
I love to take them to beautiful places,
where time stands still
for a moment,
as you stare at the way
the light falls through the window,
& the soft, dark corners.
Senses wide open.

On the way back,
a message from a dear friend
lights up in the dimness,
as we pass fields, woods and quiet bays.
It's strange how in the half light
you often see the clearest.
We talk about how we both
want to create more beauty in this world,
and how that feeling has intensified lately
with all that's going on.
A mission to dwell on what's good.
So we make some plans.
Now those plans
tingle a little in the stomach. 

Thursday, 21 July 2016


"White is the presence of all colours."

After all I've seen, 
the mind seems to return to the simplest forms.
To a place where I hear my thoughts.
Like a lump of clay for hopes,
or a canvas for dreams.

Room to paint in any colour,
mold in any shape.
The tickling feeling of,
rather than something concrete,
a vagueness
that also feels like possibilities.

The world around seems to have gone rather mad lately.
Among many other things,
it's made me think about integrity.
I remember someone saying
it's not something you are born with,
but a decision you make each moment
of each day.

A decision to be open and vulnerable.

Courage to be a blank canvas,
even with the risk of it becoming speckled
with dust and dirt.

It has more beauty & character that way anyway,
I think.


Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...