death by a thousand paper cuts

palm beach, waiheke island seascape

oh february,

you have kicked my ass. this was not at all how i imagined you’d be. hot on the heels of a january that passed by like a whirlwind, you fill my days with one test after another. nothing major of course, just small things that have all added up to feel like death by a thousand paper cuts.

still, you haven’t been all bad. there’s been loads of visitors and a strange compulsion to take up trail running. we’ve got most of our studio space done, and had some kick-ass sunshine to laze about in when we’re not re-staining the house or cutting up dead trees for firewood.

i’ve finally made time to go back to my morning walks by the sea, milo seems settled and i’ve got my first local commission.

still, if you could slow down a little bit and let me catch my breath before i turn around and go “whoa! what happened to 2015?!” that would be great.

kthx

a random selection of objects

morning-walk

watching  | michael kenna’s hokkaido. i love, love, love his work + cig harvey’s amazing (AMAZING) talk at the school for visual arts (thanks to my new friend andy for the introduction)

planning  |  for a long weekend away at the end of the month for nic’s 40th birthday. the logistics of travel by tiny plane to a remote island, needing to take food & clothing with a 15kg weight limit is a fun puzzle to solve.

reading  | bowndling journal – stoked to have an article published there recently + small giants: 100+ makers and mavericks by Hiut Denim Co. on Medium + how to quit amazon and shop in an actual bookstore over at esquire +

considering  |  words Erin Loechner wrote a few months ago: “Remember that it’s part of you now, a small part, like the yellows and reds of a stained glass window. And that you have other colors now – blues and greens and oranges – and that your years shaped you into a segment of hue; a symphony of shade.” and feeling thankful for so many things, including lapsed friendships, new friendships, lost songs, good times, bad haircuts and even worse decisions, feeling lost and being loved.

asking  |  what could i do with 100 days of making? what could you do?

listening  |  Ben Hammersley –  Pantomime + Ansel Adams on Tape (via The DO Lectures newsletter)

missing  |  my people. the friends i made in the UK who inspired me creatively. who i could hangout and do photowalks with. who i could visit for the day for a walk in the countryside, picnics, heart conversations. it’s the thing that i miss the most about our UK life. it’s something i talked to my new friend Andy about when in hokkaido – how important it is to spend time in conversation about our creative life.

loving  |  we never met. an instagram account started by Ogilvy London’s Alex Mendes and Hugo Catraio. stories they’ve made up about strangers whose faces you can’t see. genius

anything you’ve found recently that you’d like to share?