Never Skip a Skip

On Tuesday Buster and I were on one of our neighbourhood watch strolls. We're not official members or anything, but Buster likes to know about everything that's happening in our area. And in great detail. Every hedge is investigated, every lamp post claimed, every single person inspected. Our walks take a while. 

On our Tuesday walk we passed by a full-to-the-brim skip. Now as Buster cannot fight the urge to claim it as his own, so I cannot resist having a peak inside. This skip had Treasure. Serious Treasure in the shape of glass paned doors. I promptly knocked on the door, made friends with the builders, stopped Buster from too serious an inspection of them and promised to return with my car immediately. 

The doors made it home, past my husband's raised eyebrow and have taken up residence in my shed. I'm very pleased to have them here and must now find some worthy handles. 


Car Booty

Somehow this weekend gone, I managed to convince my husband to go to a Car Boot Sale with our friends from Word - a clever quip-filled art shop in Camden. The boot sale was en route to a family gathering, too convenient to miss, and, I promised, we'll only pop in for a little wander.

No chairs, he said, and off we went. 

He was right, no chairs. But, I did find this lovely little backless bench. 

and Buster seems to like it too. 

Roberto and his cloud

This is Roberto. Roberto is named for Roberto Tjon A Meeuw, the amazing Surinamese artist who creates art from found objects. I met Roberto on a film I designed in Curacao and loved his work. When I left, he gifted me this gorgeous sculpture. 

Roberto (the sculpture not the artist) occupies a space on my studio wall with a clear view of my desk. This is where I do most of my procrastinating. I think Roberto looks a little sad so I hung a cloud from the Magis Me Too collection above him. I often imagine that the only way I can stop the cloud from raining on him is by getting on with my work. 


Hello new demijohn

On a recent weekend to Manchester, my friend Laura and myself stopped in at a lovely little second hand furniture store. Cardboard boxes lined the walls and treasures sat on every shelf waiting to be discovered and whipped off to new homes by excited interior adventurists. 

Laura and I shop rather well together, both finding it impossible not to touch every trinket and examine every frame to reveal little doodles and paintings that live within. Nestled up against an old shelving unit and some gorgeous shoe blocks sat a cluster of dusty demijohns. These made their way swiftly into my car, along with a new stool, which though my husband appreciates its beauty, there is, he says with great patience, nowhere for it to go. 

Ah, I sigh, there is always space for a new chair.