Thursday, 28 February 2008
All change
You may notice I've got a new look. I would like to say it's because I fancied a change or was inspired by something different but no . . . . it's purely because my old format had a glitch where one post ran straight into another. I tried everything I could think of to put space in - nothing worked so I picked a new template! I guess technology is beyond me. Hope you like it though.
Tuesday, 19 February 2008
Inspired doodle
I love the work of Antonio Gaudi the Spanish architect and was recently given a set of books with beautiful photos of his work. They inspired me to do this doodle.
Monday, 18 February 2008
Thursday, 14 February 2008
Guest Blog
It's My Jack Russell's birthday, he's 9 years old so I've decided he can choose the subject matter for this blog today. He's very sad as he cannot see his true love on Valentine's Day - she's just had an operation to remove some lumps. Luckily she's ok although it took 4 hours and she's very sore.
So he wants to say "Get well soon Elle - I love you!"
So he wants to say "Get well soon Elle - I love you!"
Monday, 11 February 2008
Elegance
I love tulips. Even when dying they're elegant and beautiful. The way their stems droop over the vase always makes me happy to see.
Friday, 8 February 2008
Wild Crocus
What a beautiful day, sun shining and some heat in it too. As I walked through the cemetery in the late afternoon sunshine it seemed Spring was here at last or at least coming soon. I've been meaning to take a picture of these wild crocus for years and only got round to it today, they are in the old part amongst the angels, tombs and crosses. Every year they give my spirits a lift as they appear from the earth, this year even earlier than usual in January.
First Crocus
This morning, flowers cracked open
the earth’s brown shell. Spring
leaves spilled everywhere
though winter’s stern hand
could come down again at any moment
to break the delicate yolk
of a new bloom.
The crocus don’t see this as they chatter
beneath a cheerful petal of spring sky.
They ignore the air’s brisk arm
as they peer at their fresh stems, step
on the leftover fragments
of old leaves.
When the night wind twists them to pieces,
they will die like this: laughing,
tossing their brilliant heads
in the bitter air.
©2007, Christine Klocek-Lim
Sunday, 3 February 2008
Stop and stare 5
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