tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-368586442012-01-27T15:53:28.047Z* let it shine *lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.comBlogger2571100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-72674531528482846792012-01-06T17:05:00.000Z2012-01-06T17:05:32.450Z

The happiest of new years to you friends! Time to peer through a reflective lens on the year past, yes? Well, I can't reflect adequately this year just gone without remembering where it began. That's always a good lesson isn't it; to fully appreciate where you are, remember where you came from. 2011 began from a relatively dark place, an exhausted position, but one of survival. Summing up the

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-57202712006589160882011-11-27T22:25:00.030Z2011-11-28T08:08:12.504Z

Perhaps you may not believe me at this stage, but it's true; more true now than it ever was. I promise, promise, promise, I am not making this up - everytime I look at my feet. If you don't mind, I'm not going to try saying anything. {Today's Soundtrack: Lanterns on the Lake - Lungs Quicken / Tricks}

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-6673444469105153602011-11-22T09:38:00.004Z2011-11-22T15:44:24.006Z

Okay, look. The point is, I'm as desperate to get back to writing as a Princess fighting through thorn and thicket to get to her Daniel in distress, but these recent weeks have presented way more than just basic events and I must attend to those first. But you must know, not a week goes by when I don't think of you and wonder how life is going. While I've been beavering away on one of The Major

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-13460662033957554482011-09-10T13:39:00.002Z2011-09-10T13:49:34.130Z

There are many worse ways to spend an afternoon than wobbling around the ancient walls of pretty Cusco while the sun lazes along its old cobble roads with you. Inca stonework fits together in perfect patchwork shapes—chunky, thick boulders sculpted precisely to match each other and snuggle together tightly enough to withstand earthquakes. It's amazing how they did it without hard metal tools,

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-51378442634737562902011-09-07T18:45:00.000Z2011-09-07T18:57:26.525Z

Revolving.  It is really helpful to know what it is you revolve around. • What do you revolve around? It is possible to define certain axes – family, friends, people who are at the heart of things; beliefs which move you to action in the first place; dreams that stretch your heart out to horizon places. Revolve around the thoughts that you always have when you walk in a certain

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-82734589781778611152011-08-31T16:25:00.003Z2011-08-31T16:37:02.407Z

Another heart, at my feet when I get home to England. A mark at point A, and a mark at point B. Another heart-shaped mark, connecting to a long line of others. Point A exists, implicitly different from its counterpoint; B as it is, imbued with the fragrances of everything growing on the path towards it. The journey takes time, and in time things grow and flower. Many things are expressed,

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-83750052539244666642011-08-18T23:21:00.002Z2011-08-18T23:36:39.585Z

So, some days of living in the mountians - what shall I tell you? Maybe I could tell you about these Inca roads and their relentless steep ascents to 4000m through wilderness trails and gurgling jungle streams; subtle colour spectrum which seems simple but in fact leaves out no hue and changes with every cloud or gust. I could muse over reflected light from snow-capped mountains, rivers

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-38409851545805115382011-08-07T03:29:00.005Z2011-08-07T03:46:40.622Z

We have spent almost as much time on this bus as off it in the last few days. The american team arrived on Sunday and we came to a town called Anduhuaylas to work with Paz y Esperanza there. They chose this machine as our chariot. (August 5th) 5am call. Bus for 5 hours to who knows where. We pass through a town, and headlights reveal men pissing openly in the streets and rats strung up from

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-17934530981210841292011-08-02T14:13:00.004Z2011-08-02T14:16:20.665Z

Living life in bubbles. We all live in our bubbles, to an extent. I've been a little outside mine on this trip, but its an adventure, and my choice. Most of us create some kind of space around us where the edges are very defined and familiar. We make patterns in home and work and relationships which are cyclicle - routines we like, that mostly we have chosen and developed. Even when a thing

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-8193384589181096032011-07-31T23:05:00.001Z2011-07-31T23:05:05.586Z

[Later that evening, a walk with Fiorella and Neri] Turns out Megaphone Man was not harking independence after all, but revving up for 'Festival de Danzas' in the huge yet empty town square. Panpipes a-go go! We stood in a tight, jigsaw fit of bodies around a makeshift arena while kids of all shapes, sizes and rhythm contributed traditional, regional peruvian equivalents of jazz

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-34139683156095311622011-07-31T23:04:00.001Z2011-07-31T23:04:31.593Z

[Pisco, 4 hrs drive S of Lima, in a garden] Cacophony of birdsong in late afternoon, quick fluttering of their little beating wings - like an overly surprised heart - as they fly back and forth over this garden. A soft rustle - plastic bag caught in pale pink geraniums, then a cockerel experimenting with unusual (for him) times of day. Loud radio amplified off bare brick and plaster,

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-52438885450477414342011-07-26T21:30:00.003Z2011-07-26T21:42:22.747Z

[Yesterday - In Transit] Here in New York it is around 3pm, though my body thinks it nearly 8. I've so far eaten two very bad meals, watched a terrible film (Paul) and an amazing film (Jane Eyre), sat next to a sweet helpful person, a weird self-help person, a french couple joined at the tongue, and several cute peruvians. Waiting on tarmac to take off for Lima, a baby two rows back is

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-16669452971929680472011-07-15T17:22:00.002Z2011-07-15T17:26:39.528Z

A friend asked me last week, which do you prefer, melody, harmony or rhythm? Thinking, a few seconds, worried he might be judging my answer, realising he was not trying to catch me out, I braved a thought which was not concluded and suggested 'harmony'. I'm a singer and sometimes feel overwhelmed in the middle of powerful harmonies. He is a drummer and did a grand job of not taking offence. The

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-75385908960260971972011-06-16T12:43:00.001Z2011-06-16T12:48:48.207Z

Today is a special day. Not that every other day is not special. Perhaps, more, today is about some special people, small people with pure hearts and big hopes. Do we all know little ones like this?  Just yesterday evening I bumped into two I know, full of hugs and excited about their music lessons, curious about "Why?" (their favourite lens). Off they went with special mummy B, home to look

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-62524108474788312502011-06-15T04:29:00.006Z2011-06-15T04:57:08.493Z

May love come and get you. In the secret place, be friendly and kind to whoever you find there, and trust that God has it covered. When you find yourself empty-handed, Know the remaining love of God; Rest take you by one hand, And Peace by the other, And lead you to lie down in those Promised-of green pastures. Let them show you the way to that 'River of delights' So you might

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-59092270505976098102011-06-03T19:25:00.003Z2011-06-03T19:31:18.563Z

This summer, I'm travelling to Peru with US charity Venture Expeditions, to work with vulnerable, poverty-stricken communities all over Peru. The plan is to hook up with a project in Lima called Paz Y Esperanza, and I will work with them to document their fantastic work. I'm also running photography workshops with some local kids so as to give them a voice, and hopefully a small foot up out of

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-47046633680717327902011-05-27T17:17:00.000Z2011-05-27T17:17:25.876Z

I heard this really interesting comment yesterday on the radio, Rob Lowe talking about being an actor, that if you are not competitive about it you may as well get out of the industry. Somehow that seemed at odds with the sensitive world of the actor. And then I watched 'The Apprentice'. As much as I can't bear the bitchy back-stabbing, I do admire the sheer balls of people who do everything

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-23065826883847937182011-05-21T09:46:00.005Z2011-05-21T13:21:53.094Z

While we're on the theme of blossom and snowing trees... {Today's Soundtrack: Raghu Dixit - No Man Will Ever Love You, Like I Do}

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-18421271590347132812011-05-18T17:20:00.001Z2011-05-18T17:25:17.204Z

In a curious twist of creation which keeps us on our toes and staring up, the trees have been snowing. Dry, bare twigs and branches have exploded with life and heavy boughs fell over our pathways with the weight of their surprising blossom, until they had their drunken fill and the petals let go so as to mimic the best winter could offer and sprinkle small, pale shapes all over the ground.

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-8735692512833462482011-05-06T23:29:00.004Z2011-05-07T10:44:18.091Z

There's a feeling, isn't there, when you're going for something that takes a bit of work, that it is important to settle in to a steady, long haul pace, head bowed and eyes to the path. Nose down, vision pure. Do not, at any cost, deviate from this path, rhythm or posture. Surely this is like strapping blinkers on yourself though? A paradox, a grand vision sacrificed in order to realise a

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-25284321853731400962011-04-30T22:57:00.004Z2011-04-30T23:07:07.082Z

Look what I made! So here I am floating around on water messing about with ropes. When my friend's father offered to take us out on his boat today in characteristically English celebration of a Royal Wedding bank holiday weekend, I was already excited. When he asked me if I'd like to splice a new bow rope I was beside myself. Yeah, yeah, yeah, you'll be thinking I should get out more, but

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-37214429407765530452011-04-28T09:33:00.000Z2011-04-28T09:33:17.847Z

Taking the usual route to my desk this morning, it appeared again so big, bright and green, fluttering and flipping in the breeze as I ducked in-between foot commuters to make a picture of it. Some of these folk marched, some trudged, others sauntered, scuffed or pottered. All moving somewhere, soles of their feet covering ground and creating some distance between them and something behind.  If

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-20839171421621826542011-04-28T00:37:00.001Z2011-04-28T00:37:04.782Z

...here's the frog. Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.7

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-91497958001299300742011-04-28T00:25:00.004Z2011-04-28T08:19:42.392Z

Remember this? Well, it's not even technically flowering season yet, and the sweet peas are just a third of their grown up size and still only frilly green shoots, but I thought you'd like to know in the last few weeks this has happened: And yes, I did find a frog under the sweet peas on Monday. Sorry I'm not writing much. I'm too busy trying to shut my mouth. {Today's Soundtrack:

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-31231860678409869932011-04-24T20:27:00.002Z2011-04-24T20:30:19.756Z

Birds flying high you know how I feel, Sun in the sky, you know how I feel, Breeze drifting on by, you know how I feel. It's a new dawn, It's a new day, It's a new life... {Today's Soundtrack: Nina Simone - Feeling Good}

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-15227954049398468252011-04-22T07:00:00.009Z2011-04-22T07:00:06.541Z

What's that tiny, red, glinting thing, down there on the ground while the blossom trees are in full explosive flourish, and just as I catch myself feeling ever so thankful for spring? Ah, it's one of those again! Is someone following me while I trundle up to this, the last day of Lent, checking that I get all the way without cheating? It's day number forty, Friday, and we decide to call it '

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-84370396908841224162011-04-20T04:21:00.004Z2011-04-21T17:30:05.518Z

As the Jesus thing teaches us not to value a person's standing before we decide to love them, shaking hands with Pastor Rob Bell - a true advocate of this - last night as he signed my copy of his 'Love Wins' book felt a bit phony. Actually, I just wanted to ask a question about why I think many so-called christians get hung up on their need to be right about who's in, who's out. It was to do

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-62583805306511025292011-04-18T08:30:00.002Z2011-04-18T14:30:17.791Z

There comes a point in a person's life and adventures when the question of resources comes along. Each of us have resources–skills and gifts, inspirations, competence, strength and wisdom gathered from experience–and it's only right to ask how these things might combine for a bigger and better use. It's good to consider responsible use of our resources, and certainly if we can learn to do this

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-5019254631049498332011-04-15T08:30:00.000Z2011-04-15T08:30:00.579Z

 Reposted from December 04, 2009 Passport booths are a good metaphor for life – at least the old fashioned ones were. You get to have another go if you stuff up. What a relief. Who do we thank? {Today's soundtrack: Elbow - The Seldom Seen Kid}

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-81156086759986370242011-04-13T08:30:00.000Z2011-04-13T08:30:00.985Z

August 12, 2008 Remember the Circles of Confusion last May? This view has the same effect, always to arrest those thoughts for a moment and mention that it's worth letting go of your hang-ups and control mechanisms because–no matter now much you try to avoid it–we all overlap, are all connected, and all drink from the same cup. Look at them all, the fragile little leaves. Yep, they're like us

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-33184461384311667682011-04-11T08:30:00.004Z2011-04-11T08:30:01.861Z

Reposted from May 18, 2007Ok, I know I said I was off the lightbox for a few days but that is overturned as of 6am, when this happened: A tree outside my bedroom window stands between me and the sun, and its leaves layer up to form thousands of tiny pinholes through which the sun presses. By the time these exact pinhole beams reach the wall next to me they have defracted and grown into soft

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-6101404988969969142011-04-08T08:30:00.001Z2011-04-08T08:30:03.168Z

Reposted from June 07, 2007"Ladies and gentlemen we are floating in space."  Is anyone else feeling like a bit of an alien today? I keep feeling as though I'm in orbit, just watching things from a distance and not sure how what I'm doing fits with the rest of the planet. hmmm...that feeling of wanting to sort everything out and not being able to quite reach. Anyone? Having been to see the 

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-398121834230673032011-04-06T08:30:00.000Z2011-04-06T08:30:00.308Z

Reposted from May 01, 2007 Come a bit closer... the rock and the wave again. Pulling certain sections of this image into isolation, it's hard to tell which is which. Rock and wave. Something about each gives the other its purpose, but I've often wondered–when feeling like a breaker that crashes against the cliff, or alternatively feeling the breaker thundering over my being–how this

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-83256623311032650262011-04-04T08:30:00.000Z2011-04-04T08:30:00.956Z

Reposted from April 29, 2007 ... I have a maxim, that unless you can do it for yourself you can't do it for other people (discuss - is this true?). Therefore, I've been taking care and taking stock, emerging from what has felt like a gruelling wintertime. A rock to sit on, just inches above the permanently shifting ocean surface. A rock to watch, to reassure me that there are presences in life

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-5805520854015674862011-04-01T07:42:00.004Z2011-04-02T01:52:03.795Z

Reposted August 07, 2008 1.4.11 postscript > Dedicating this to my wonderful godson JJ jr who is a true joy! Happy April folks, and remember that we are all fools unless we remember that the truth looks different depending on where you stand to look at it.  {Today's soundtrack: Lamb - Fear of Fours}

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-18325848865554041172011-03-30T08:30:00.001Z2011-03-30T08:30:00.652Z

Reposted from May 07, 2009Unfolding"I would love to live like a river flows, carried by the surprise of its own unfolding." * Chatting today with a new friend, we mused about different seasons in life, mourning the loss of those past while grasping the purpose in those current. He asked me what season I was in now, and without too much hesitation I answered, "Spring". I was trying to remember

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-86895228038664787642011-03-28T08:30:00.003Z2011-03-28T08:30:00.683Z

First posted October 28, 2008Light : 03 The 'stinky back alley' I referred to in last post. I thought this photograph was lost in the robbery (almost two years ago now*) but holding my nose and diving in to a cluttered inbox for some long overdue filing under 'b', there it was, thank goodness, as if to prove a point that in the midst of rubbish out shines beauty. In tandem to this post, the

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-80453130290813236102011-03-25T14:56:00.000Z2011-03-25T14:56:27.892Z

Today's re-post is about light. Last night a friend of mine, aged 40, suffered a stroke and he was rushed to hospital, where he is in the care of the best neuro-surgeons in the country. He is 40. Lots of us are 40, or nearly, and this is not when we have strokes. He is well enough to be making jokes about this, but still very, very ill. Amazingly, there is a fantastic community around him and

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-73049647154618968342011-03-23T16:15:00.000Z2011-03-23T16:15:43.939Z

Friends, as things are really rather stacked at the moment I shall take this chance to revisit some of my favourite posts from over the last four years to share with you. Those of you who have been with me for a while do feel free to suggest your favourites too - it would be interesting to know which you particularly loved! To begin, this one about faith, the essence of which I was chatting with

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-42207125047080651122011-03-21T08:56:00.007Z2011-03-21T19:39:49.521Z

My friend Jackie posted yesterday, 'a small change can make a big difference'. I am here testifying to this being true. For the last few months I have made a number of small changes - first actionable steps on the way to a chosen goal. Trouble is, I forgot, or maybe didn't believe, that actions have consequences. The point of committing to the first step is that the journey begins whether you

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-75045331235545557262011-03-15T23:28:00.009Z2011-03-18T13:09:27.494Z

So, I know lots of you who read these posts look at the world through a certain 'faith' lens, like me, and lots of you don't. Either way, I have a simple question which struck me after leaving the patience and stillness thoughts last week quite vague. My question is this: What exactly are you looking at? In relation to prayerful stillness, I think this is about naming your principle, but

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-27918917773387491572011-03-15T01:22:00.001Z2011-03-15T01:22:53.714Z

Right then. So to begin the week, I am not showering you with any fancy type of photography. And neither must you expect great insights from me. No, this is just to prove that: a/ what I said about my dead containers in the smallest-garden-known-to-man is true. See? They really are not an advert for fruitfulness, are they? b/ this is actually the state of things. It is important to mark

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-68743305751909049722011-03-11T08:30:00.002Z2011-03-11T08:30:02.329Z

Getting to the core of what lent is really about, some more thoughts. There's another reason we strip away, pare back and refine leading up to Easter, something about the humble in spirit inheriting the earth.  When Jesus was in the desert for forty days and nights, there were temptations coming at him from all angles that would appeal to the striving, insecure soul - command respect in this,

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-23731613325157787102011-03-10T08:30:00.004Z2011-03-10T11:54:21.837Z

There is so much I could say about patience. Sometimes I talk about patience to fill in exactly the space that requires it, perversely to help me be patient! As these are just serious distraction tactics because faffing doing something is easier than contemplatively doing nothing, burn out may well occur. In fact, it occasionally has done. Have you ever had to be really, really patient for

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-75195259657519328292011-03-09T16:53:00.000Z2011-03-09T16:53:26.797Z

What is a time of giving things up really all about? Purging, losing a few guilty pleasures? Do we look at this as forty days of self-imposed punishment for gluttony, or do we look at this as forty days to be purified and made stronger, more whole? Do you inhibit yourself and your choices for true health, or does it turn out to be rather a false virtue? In a new year flourish the last couple of

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-13207461426882284232011-03-09T11:39:00.001Z2011-03-09T15:07:52.055Z

{This morning's foley edit: Native birdsong, soft footsteps; sharp intake of breath, then a scuffle.}

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-4302953505456930462011-03-04T18:14:00.001Z2011-03-04T18:18:42.420Z

'It is easy to acknowledge, but almost impossible to realise for long, that we are mirrors whose brightness, if we are bright, is wholly derived from the sun that shines upon us.' So says C.S.Lewis writing in The Four Loves. Among forests of thought about our loves, he describes here a selfless love that has to come from beyond us, he argues, because our own needs are so bound up in our

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-64490486267167885022011-03-02T17:51:00.002Z2011-03-02T17:53:26.769Z

Someone appears to have snuck into to my home while I was out and left this on the chair! Did you see anyone? {Today's Soundtrack: Henry Mancini - Pink Panther theme}

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-43393602748516792322011-02-27T02:13:00.004Z2011-02-27T02:21:03.137Z

I'm thinking about opposites again. Right now, in this part of the northern hemisphere, it has been about as cold, and about as wet, for about as long as we will need to endure it. Give or take a week or so as we push clocks forward and bag those lighter evenings again, it will start to change, equinoxally (made up word, no really) speaking. I am still wearing layers - gloves, scarf, hat,

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-58961020489790296202011-02-25T18:36:00.001Z2011-02-25T18:39:37.455Z

Here they all are, from Spitalfields, Bristol, Hope Chapel, locations remembered, but all from the last two weeks. Alright, so I concede that a heart in the froth of my coffee is not a scuffed sequin, and neither did I nearly step on it. Yet it arriving with me is still an accidental, timely gesture on a theme. The man who made it for me drew my attention to it as his gift to me, and while he

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-45228462003195800612011-02-25T01:25:00.002Z2011-02-25T01:27:37.400Z

Okay, picture this. I'm sitting looking up, ceiling 50ft above my head. This ceiling is pock-marked with halogen lights, many of which are blown out and blackened amongst 1950s glass lamps. However, there are hot spots of light which distract me from the brokenness. Lightness and little slices of colour, and looking along there's a scaff lattice bearing big lights, colours and industry. A flash

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-12629966072774876702011-02-23T00:32:00.002Z2011-02-23T00:33:59.709Z

I did't show these before because I thought you'd roll your eyes. Sunday's. {ST: a stuck record}

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-65154988984898351912011-02-23T00:13:00.002Z2011-02-23T00:19:44.774Z

What bright treasure is this I find on the way home from a pub quiz? And is it any mistake that the alias my team mates & I collectively rally under is 'Come Shine With Me'? I promise you, I am not making this up. It is the third sequin-heart-on-floor this week, and it's only Tuesday. Sixth in a fortnight. Don't believe me? I'll put the other ones up tomorrow. {Today's Soundtrack: music round

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-50968744330316636252011-02-20T12:56:00.003Z2011-02-20T13:26:31.823Z

Right now, as I type, this little lump of dough is rising in a warm place. In a rare break with Sunday morning convention, I too am tucked into a soft, warm place, with my slippers on and enjoying a hush. My ribcage rises gently with air again. It has been a while. Many of us have landed at the half term break absolutely shattered, feeling like a lump of dough kneaded and pummelled and

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-6216553014042985632011-02-18T11:02:00.001Z2011-02-18T11:03:51.651Z

I'm going to make myself vulnerable here and share with the group. Today I am sending a manuscript off to a literary agent, so begin a significant journey which may or may not take me where I want to go! Furthermore, I have started telling you a story before I know the ending – this is lunacy! With the bare minimum research into the book scene, the picture that builds quickly is one of agents

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-36050019810325448442011-02-16T12:17:00.002Z2011-02-16T12:23:49.215Z

  A few years ago, I became slightly obsessed with growing things from seed. I have not lost the obsession, but having moved house I have lost the wide, sunny windowsills on which to line up little cardboard pots and germinate.  Growing delicate stuff outside is hard when you have a good old soggy west country winter to contend with, so although I have an outside space I am watching quite

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-18244122684594523532011-02-15T09:47:00.001Z2011-02-15T10:00:46.786Z

I love you, a little bit more today than yesterday. * In the interests of honouring 'hearts on floor' phenomena you can read about this heart in the Nov '09 archive - three posts but read them in order (ie. backwards). And don't get cross about my terrible French. And it's a bit heavy, so maybe save it for another day. But it is a good story. {Today's Soundtrack: stet}

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-2639597498193382342011-02-14T18:42:00.001Z2011-02-14T21:15:20.548Z

You are my world – blessed, meek. Fragile hands stitch a heart For you. Because you are unlike the rest, I made this one for you. * {Today's Soundtrack: James Blake - A Case Of You (Joni Mitchell) }

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-38757074313109711162011-02-11T14:17:00.002Z2011-02-11T15:14:32.544Z

You know something? Actually, a few things? 1. Love is. Just the very fact you have picked up that pencil today means there is love in your veins. 2. You are on track. Keep going. Here and now, everything you carry has tremendous value. Believe it, and be thankful. 3. You can be strong, and brave. If there is something you have been dreading doing, just stand up, take a deep breath and do it

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-57061652307674009452011-02-09T10:16:00.002Z2011-02-09T11:31:13.487Z

Tell me the truth about love. Surprised by myself that this year, unlike others, the approach of St. Valentine's Day comes with a gloom about it. Usually it passes fairly unnoticed, as it is after all a commercial invention and — as my newly married friend puts it — a false idea about romance as if to make an excuse for not being loving every other day of the year. He says, "Everyday should be

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-92227333305508288892011-02-04T18:15:00.003Z2011-03-18T13:09:00.209Z

"I do not run aimlessly; I do not fight like a boxer beating the air." 1 Corinthians 9:26 • Whether or not you know where you see yourself in five years time (a question that seems to have cropped up a few times this week), it is still possible to be focused in your life. Do you find that the people who ask that question are very tidy people? Yes, me too, and good for them. It must be lovely

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-17058677652619522172011-02-02T12:13:00.000Z2011-02-02T12:13:46.012Z

There is a restaurant in Pittsburgh, which is trying out something radical in order to create conversation, according to a report on BBC Radio 4's Today programme this morning. This restaurant serves just one dish from a specific country for one month, then changes to another dish from a different country for another month. Each dish is wrapped in paper printed with facts and quotes about that

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-34315509363552789582011-01-31T18:54:00.000Z2011-01-31T18:54:02.499Z

Animals, the lot of us. All this hypothesising about mature and dignified ways to communicate and be nice to each other, actually sometimes don't you just want to growl? Loudly? This one particular little person and I have been roaring at each other for a few years now. It started when I realised at about 8 months she was quite good at primal scream therapy. I'm not sure her parents were glad

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-6303393245833532942011-01-28T16:10:00.000Z2011-01-28T16:10:05.031Z

What kind of impression do you make on people? And if someone makes an impression on you, good or bad, do you pass that on? The other day I had an essay returned in the course of my post-grad studies, and had been given a truly terrible grade. It was so bad I almost believed it was a joke. After exclaiming a few things other than 'Excellent!', I questioned my tutor's rationale for—as I saw

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-33937549362427203362011-01-27T08:30:00.005Z2011-01-27T08:30:01.266Z

What's this about stones then? Whether you are into bible stories or not, this one is a neat illustration of how to handle deviations in an otherwise darned fine plan. There's an ancient story about Joshua leading the Israelites across the Jordan into the promised land. God stacked up the water in a heap so they could all cross to the other side by simply walking right across the riverbed; the

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-743852886212356642011-01-26T12:18:00.002Z2011-01-26T12:18:35.396Z

Today's is a tricky idea, so I'm going to pull it apart and discuss it in two pieces.  Waking this morning there was a shadow hovering nearby, like a cloud of junk that was stopping me feeling excited about the day ahead. I work part-time with young folk as a photography lecturer and have chosen to preserve a couple of days in the week for my own freelance projects, of which I feel terribly

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-74942585308441857542011-01-21T12:11:00.001Z2011-01-21T12:14:13.201Z

Just before Christmas, I went to have a chat with my Pastor about a few things. Not sure I wanted resolution on my musings so much as a wise soul to share them with. There are some ideas about life and what's brewing which are very interesting but to be really honest, I wanted those ideas to go away. I want things to change, but I don't want things to change.  Get me? No? Let's try again.

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-41466267015411141882011-01-19T14:50:00.003Z2011-01-19T14:54:47.168Z

One thousand pinpricks in a cloud that hovered too low over a garden of roses and forgot about the thorns. (Il pleu.) If you are an encourager, verve occasionally meets its nemesis too large and natural vigour drains from you like rain from a cloud. Why might this happen? You are built and equipped to encourage, surely in all things? The encourager naturally sees possibility where others do

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-62681909395376802572011-01-14T16:26:00.000Z2011-01-14T16:26:28.253Z

People are quite good at grouping together based on what is the same about them, but when we say 'opposites attract', I think it might be because of this thought that duality actually does work to set things in motion. When dual elements unite around a central goal, their movement can be powerful even in tension. In diverse communities where we live alongside radically different views to our

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-77699063302452331382011-01-13T10:39:00.000Z2011-01-13T10:39:59.872Z

Forests full of words and thoughts; hopes and dreams and ambitions spread out like thick woodland. The distance is hidden by everything today holds. I don't want to find a clearing in this forest, I love the shape of the trees too much. {Today's Soundtrack: Jars of Clay - The Shelter}

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-72157236920815508962011-01-12T13:56:00.000Z2011-01-12T13:56:21.084Z

When the table top becomes too cluttered with rubbish, sometimes the only thing for it is to elbow some space amongst the junk and create a little clearing, so the thing you thought you had lost might creep out to meet you. This is what I did the other night, losing time in a darkroom whilst making some photograms. Beautiful old craft, watching the way light falls around objects, capturing the

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-28103962176392600312011-01-07T12:42:00.000Z2011-01-07T12:42:35.940Z

Right then, what we need now is a little objective setting. There are ways and ways to approach the turn of new year, making battle plans to obtain the life we wish we lived. But really, the only way to obtain it is to do it. The last few years, early in January me and some pals have helped each other set 'objectives' rather than 'resolutions'. Time to get your business lingo bingo cards out,

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-30254745401619422282011-01-05T19:03:00.001Z2011-01-05T19:03:57.004Z

Happy new year everyone! I hope your Christmas time was lush and you are solidly back in the groove – welcome back! This new year I spent a lovely time with close friends as we wrapped up the year and let the promise inherent in Christmas fire us up for a fresh 2011 start. Curled up around the fire, feasting, chatting, we challenged each other to confront face on what was so hard in 2010, and

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-42633716848260595142010-12-22T17:10:00.002Z2010-12-22T17:20:50.991Z

Dear friends, I wanted to take a moment to say thank you for gathering around the Lightbox with me this year, and I hope you have enjoyed the words and pictures over recent months. For me, it is a real joy to post here and I would still do so even if no one was watching, but if it brings you some joy and comfort too then that's a huge bonus. I'm going to take a break for the holiday and will

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-78328847618639055552010-12-16T12:52:00.003Z2010-12-17T16:22:27.788Z

What light are you shining? Is it a short-fused spark where hedonism flints against boredom, or a careful, steady flame that burns constantly through all weathers? Consider what would happen if that light went out. To suffer a gale against your flame is to burn vulnerably amidst the turbulent elements between you and your horizon. In this respect, suffering serves to pull focus on what you

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-59319707722608341422010-12-02T17:40:00.000Z2010-12-02T17:40:15.991Z

Sand sticks. Tiny particles of ground rock and coral cling to the palm of your sweaty, salty hands. Try brushing it off but it won't leave, pressed in to your skin. Go down to the water's edge and hold your hands where a wave is about to wash up the beach, soaking your hands clean whilst more, other, numerous grains swill between your toes and get stuck there. Run backwards and fall back

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-68840116637682081342010-12-02T11:57:00.002Z2010-12-02T12:00:57.157Z

          My love for you is no           cardboard cut-out,           but I'll throw a pin-up           at your feet so           you don't forget me. {Scott Matthews - Eyes Wider That Before}

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-71295119426518181382010-11-26T15:36:00.000Z2010-11-26T15:36:07.497Z

So, staying with this theme of magnitude, it follows that I start remembering something cute that happened on a trip to New Zealand. Cathedral Cove with its eponymous rock is a spectacular and remote part of the world. (The people in this picture show it densely populated, by Kiwi standards.) To find the beach you have to walk 45 minutes through a conservation area, and make a long descent to

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-26882531002604196192010-11-24T14:19:00.000Z2010-11-24T14:19:26.086Z

Sometimes, the big picture is just too big. It becomes impossible to know what to do with the wealth of everything you know, dream of, or consider possible. The magnitude of the world's triumphs and challenges was never meant to live entirely in your small hands, but even so how many of us try to pick it all up at once, and then start to buckle under the weight? It is not wrong to have dreams,

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-24663963017258241002010-11-19T15:49:00.002Z2010-11-26T12:16:08.255Z

What are you cultivating, and where do you go to nurture it? • Plot 48B is my friend Russell's allotment, and a few weeks ago was the setting for a small redemption story. For a while I had been hitting obstacles. Various projects, various feelings, various directions I thought were all mapped out, derailing, probably my own sabotage for fear of success, perversely. Let's not forget that when

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-69029244717725891432010-11-16T11:02:00.002Z2010-11-16T23:00:04.392Z

Once in a while, something that has always been there catches your eye as if you are seeing it for the first time. In some ways, you probably are, in the sense that everything (most things) are growing and shaping and being renewed constantly, whether of the body or of the soul. So you see everything afresh, whether you know it or not. They say that a particularly hard winter and a wet and sunny

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-36199793370432612222010-11-13T17:06:00.001Z2010-11-13T17:10:27.946Z

It is a huge, flat stretch of sand, Bude, Cornwall. This particular day there was an onshore wind and the sizeable swell was all blown out and crashing around. There are few therapies better than to stand in front of this and yell. Guitar slung across my back, I took my leave of holiday pals for a little while. At first, the plan was to find a quiet rock pool somewhere and hum ballads to

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-36901111498278075712010-11-12T13:25:00.001Z2010-11-12T13:26:53.423Z

What—or who—are your mirrors? If your sense of identity relies too much on reflections from other people, it is possible you will be controlled by fear of their judgement. Friends, this is no good. We are all mirrors to each other. It is good and right that we bear each other up and be generous with ourselves as we provide helpful reflections. But sometimes if we become slightly tinted, or

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-25074491070993256322010-11-11T11:16:00.008Z2010-11-11T11:22:10.744Z

This life is therefore not righteousness,but growth in righteousness;not health, but healing;not being, but becoming;not rest, but exercise.We are not yet what we shall be,but we are growing toward it;the process is not yet finishedbut it is going on;this is not the end,but it is the road.All does not yet gleam in glory,but all is being purified.                               - Martin Luther,

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-11550068920860446352010-10-15T19:33:00.000Z2010-10-15T19:33:42.408Z

Today, Esther and I decided to have a portrait session. The last time she and I did this, she was modelling as an Angel for the benefit of a certain public art project, and for a couple of years now has been standing on the walls of our city, in a praying pose. We walked down to see the mosaics together soon after they were installed, and I asked her how she felt seeing herself on the wall.  "

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-23644272742737430852010-10-15T15:55:00.001Z2010-10-15T15:57:00.649Z

For the sake of transparency, let's just get one thing straight. Sorry if banging on about projects I'm doing is ever annoying and comes across as self-righteous. It's not meant to, and if it does it's only because it's taken a lot of years to stop being lazy and apathetic about things outside my own navel and get involved. It will always seems like a miracle if anything good ever happens, so

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-9595457168176095042010-10-13T13:46:00.004Z2010-10-15T13:43:27.956Z

Guiji Li—thanks to ActionAid—knows where I live. Guiji Li lives somewhere in the Tiandeng province of China, with her parents, who farm for a living, although to call it a living is generous. Her father often has to migrate to find work, so she and her mother, or grandparents (I'm not quite sure yet) farm the land at home without him. Sometimes the crops fail because the land is so rocky, but

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-91605478433699840992010-10-09T22:40:00.003Z2010-10-09T22:47:35.487Z

"Arf!" *Are you happy now,Can you breathe again?Did you toss away your demonsAnd lighten up?Did you close your eyes, Did you see my face?Did you walk along that beach You've been dreaming of?{Today's soundtrack: Dylan LeBlanc - Emma Hartley}

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-17899820129488522352010-10-09T19:57:00.009Z2010-10-09T22:38:28.074Z

{Today's Soundtrack: Voice Of The Beehive - I Say Nothing}

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-13222540286342598642010-10-02T17:22:00.005Z2010-10-02T19:06:29.975Z

How do you find anchor when your words have become a sea?Pondering these images helps me think on this as they show the place where my current writing project began. Here, some words came, and were recorded with a pencil on paper, by oil lamp. There was a simplicity here which allowed something to start happening, and particular words came into sharp focus. Place seems important.Today, listening

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-73821639768468380452010-10-01T21:52:00.008Z2010-10-01T23:33:39.589Z

"SPL honey, the girls have been talking. You need to get out of that garden. Those frogs ain't been treatin' you right, and your pretty little head's a mess. We know it's fun to go staring into space at big ol' rockstar lizards to take your mind off things, but so long as you know that those fancy lookin' boys don't solve all your problems. Sure as anything they may create a few! That handsome

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-59320360206269283822010-09-30T10:56:00.009Z2010-10-01T23:35:36.858Z

- this is a story for all the friends of #frogwatchThere once was a creature known to her friends as Small Plastic Lizard. She lived in a hidden garden, full of beautiful flowers and interesting little corners, and occasional visitors and plenty of big dreams.One summer, out of nowhere, another figure appeared hiding under the busy lizzies in SPL's garden. He had bulging, golden eyes, and a shiny

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-62567865910406821382010-09-24T17:25:00.005Z2010-09-24T18:10:53.891Z

Standing at the edge of a waterfall, it is quite hard not to feel drawn over into its flow, in the same way as when you watch film of a roller coaster. Compelling, relentless, physical. It can be the same whenever you stand near people who have this sort of life force running through them. They just draw you along with them, because their colour stands out from grey crowds, and you just want to

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-55730242017680375952010-09-17T16:42:00.009Z2010-09-24T16:22:22.518Z

I'm writing a book. At times all I can think is 'what on earth am I thinking?' It sometimes feels ridiculous, far-fetched and ambitious, but a grown-up friend this week asserted how brave the project is. She looked me in the eye and said in a way that you don't argue with just one word: 'courage'. I have not been feeling at all courageous lately, so tried to think of times when I've been brave in

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-90233837451065866462010-09-10T12:28:00.005Z2010-09-10T13:52:48.186Z

This young man is continually staring me out. His portrait is pinned onto the wall in front of my desk, pulled from the front page of a synopsis for my South Africa street kids project, 'I Am, Because You Are'. Amos Trust—who facilitated my visit to South Africa—celebrate their 25th anniversary this weekend, and various friends from around the globe will be getting together in London to tell

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-71182250033119234692010-09-07T12:11:00.008Z2010-09-07T13:04:10.303Z

The creative process is not really a process. As John O'Donohue observed when talking about the mind and thought, to describe the way we go as a process reduces our journey and its destination to something very cold and mechanical. Process requires a nuts and bolts approach, a kit of parts utilised for a desired outcome. Creativity by definition is never sure what its outcome is going to be, and

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-895937376170570582010-09-01T15:40:00.005Z2010-09-01T17:26:46.442Z

Wrought wires ringing with signals of life. Barred windows and crumbling, white-noise walls. Bricks, brackets and fuses – old weathered things. I got to thinking about these surface compositions, how the outside works even better if it bears some reflection of the inside – meaning, simply, content is important. It reminds me of a question that Eugene (Street Kids father figure in Durban, South

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-23960258873523017942010-08-25T09:48:00.003Z2010-08-25T10:37:21.532Z

Reflections on this ocean of thought: twisted vines and curling shadows, the tangle stops me going under. Surface patterns have a buoyancy of their own. {Today's Soundtrack: PJ Harvey - We Float}

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-30641152920833446392010-08-24T14:41:00.008Z2010-08-25T09:48:45.664Z

Something got me thinking, that between the surface of things and the sound of things and the way they are both noted, maybe there's a correlation. I've been thinking this for ages. During supporting studies for the Angels project (click on 'galleries'), I lost myself in these thoughts without realising that's what they were. Life superceded, and conclusion decided to hold off for a while. The

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36858644.post-33019657878756278602010-08-18T15:11:00.018Z2010-08-19T15:07:35.682Z

Getting a big, bad blue door feeling again today, and although it seems far too hot for anything in life to be acting like winter, there seems to be some discrepancy between dreams and reality at the moment - dreams one side of the door (the other), and reality this side. On a good day, narrowing this gap is our joy. On a tired day, not so.This morning I woke too early from a dream where I was

lizziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11869946215666289616noreply@blogger.com0