saint valentines

i haven't had even a moment to think about tomorrow.

d's birthday also falls on valentine's day so we always celebrate with cake and champagne. as it so happens my parents planned to have a valentine's baby as well, i just wasn't ready to come out yet when the day arrived. with my birthday just a few days after d's, we almost always take a trip together instead of exchanging big gifts. 

last year finland, this year will be budapest.

we're taking off on friday for a week of thermal spas, museums, ruin bars and catching up with friends.

post-siberian syndrome

pss //

the trouble with blog posts after such incredible trips is that i never know where to start.
the beginning? how cliché.
the end? everyone who wants to avoid the beginning does that.

enfin on y se trouve au milieu // saltando por un lado al otro


i can say three things for certain after travelling across siberia, through russia and recuperating in st. petersburg for almost a week.

one - russia is not at all what i expected (duh). what i do expect is that you cannot even get a glimpse at this country unless you've been there. soviet architecture is big enough to make anyone feel small. the enchanting wooden houses of siberia feel like a world away from the dominating concrete blocks of moscow. find your way into a bar and you'll meet (very quickly) some of the most open and kind hearted people in the world. i think the only reason that russians have a cold exterior is because their face is frozen into a frown. get a couple of drinks in them and you'll be hearing life stories in both your ears.

two - i thought canada was big, until i travelled by train all the way across russia. we boarded the first train in vladivostok, a short jump away from north korea on the japanese sea. the last train i took was from moscow to st. petersburg. whichever way you look at it, that's more than 10,000km. while i have travelled across canada by car, it didn't feel nearly as expansive as russia did. endless birch forests, endless fields of snow, mountains, frozen rivers, scattered small villages of wooden houses, chimneys smoking.

three - cognac can keep you alive. this is far different from you can live on cognac. the day we trekked out to lake baikal i was over-exhausted, cold and hadn't eaten much that morning. we were standing outside, many of our group were jumping into the lake. at some point, all i could see where white sparkles in my vision and i totally "blacked" out (more like whited out) and i woke up in a snowbank a second later. a few minutes in a warm bus and a few swigs of cognac did the trick.

petite imprimante

introducing the little printer, from BERG Cloud.

Little Printer lives in your home, bringing you news, puzzles and gossip from friends. Use your smartphone to set up subscriptions and Little Printer will gather them together to create a timely, beautiful mini-newspaper.

who wouldn't want to wake up with their updates ready for them, to pour over with their morning cup of coffee? never a fan of checking my iphone while at the breakfast table, this seems like a nicer way to be my usual anti-social morning self.

see more at BERG Cloud.

siberia

cleaning my pack, choosing my clothes. pulling out my parka from under the bed. stitching up my holy mittens, neglected since last winter. there's not too much need for wintery things in london and some days i almost feel robbed of winter when it's been above 10 degrees consistently for weeks.

[image]


you can take the canadian out of winter, but you can't take the winter out of a canadian. people told me i'm crazy to travel across siberia during winter. i'm thrilled at the chance to see snow, go tobogganing and trek across mountain passes in my head as i watch distances fly by from the comfort of the train. in less than 48 hours, i'll be en route to moscow and then onwards to vladivostok on the eastern coast of russia, looking across at canada from the other side.

for four weeks, i'll jump from train to train, making short stops in cities along the way. catch my breathe in moscow and then finally to st. petersburg. after dreaming about this trip for years, it's hard to believe i have a visa in my passport and my flights are just a couple days away.

the calm before the travel storm.

quote no. 4

the japanese art of furoshiki

four days to go.

if your roll of christmas paper runs out before you intend it to, turn to furoshiki. i'm loving the simpleness of this japanese-styles gift wrap. the best part, it's painstakingly simple. what more could you ask for at this time of the year?

[image: 1.bp.blogspot.com]

what you need:

• a generous supply of silk scarves or squares of pretty fabric
• furoshiki instructions

the word furoshiki refers to the actual cloth used to wrap gifts and parcels, more traditionally bento boxes. you can buy these at most japanese import stores but if you have a wealth of silk scarves or handkerchiefs then these work just as well. 

prepare to be amazed.

[image: weheartit.com]

neighbours

only a few times have i ever lived in a flat, with neighbours. i always imagined when i did, i'd know them, invite them over to tea in the afternoons. they'd be young and creative with as much spare time as i have. in budapest, this wasn't exactly possible for me to do, my hungarian is, to put is lightly, brutal. their english was non-existent. neighbour case closed.

here in london i live on a neighbourhood high street in a cosy building with only four flats. perfect i thought, when i moved in. finally i'll have the chance to meet the neighbours. this isn't exactly easy to do. our chance encounters are few and even then, an abrupt hello is all i ever get or have the chance to give.

last winter david and i travelled to turku in finland while the city celebrated being the european capital of culture. while at the library we came across some very nicely designed postcards and our finnish hosts translated them for us.

good neighbour!

you're very welcome for a cup of coffee!

time:
place:
name: 

as a community project, a local artist made up these cards for the locals to invite their neighbours for a coffee. just one cup, a simple gesture, which surely leads to building a community. at the least it leads to a warmer hello when you meet in the hall or staircase. at the most, you could be living next to incredible people and not even know it!

do you know your neighbours? why are we so scared to talk to them? to meet them?

 

nesting // writing

how cosy does this writing space look?

sometimes you just need those days to regroup and recoup your brain. find a cosy spot with a view, sketchbook and notepads, idea boards, pens and paints to record recent inspiration. it's so easy to neglect these simple little pleasures that give so much more space in your mind.

i've been working through michael atavar's how to be an artist book in the last few months (i first wrote about it here) and i wanted to share a few lines that have really inspired me lately. at least i'm drawing more, which is already progress.

- "just do one thing today. it doesn't really matter what it is. just do it." (nike was really on to something when they chose their motto)

- "art is often created through the re-imagining of ordinary things."

- "one of the simplest and most effective techniques is to slow something down."

modern japanese ceramics

everything about this blue and white tableware is beautiful and elegant. simple lines, simple shapes. i am definitely taking some inspiration from these designs for etsy's "pimp my table" workshop on friday night here in london. taking plane jane ceramics and jazzing them up with colour and design. 

[images: Jamie Hayon x KUTANI CHOEMON and dezeen]

haiku on hétfő: amour by the tail

"ne bouge pas amour"
let me catch you by the tail
"attrape!" you're caught, amour

//

hétfő means monday in hungarian. for a long time i've wanted to begin a regular feature here on the blog, alas here is what it is: one haiku a week, on mondays since it's the only day of the week that starts with h. 

other haikus: olives, idealism