Winter mornings

It is dark when I wake up, and Harry and I spend our winter mornings together on the rug of the lounge room floor in the gentle quiet of the predawn. I draw the curtains to let the day in but outside, the stars are still bright. Harry wiggles and squeals. "Dad dad dad dad dad," he says. I kiss his impossibly soft cheeks. "Say Mummy!" I tell him. "Dad dad dad." The door is closed to keep the heat from escaping. Through it I can just hear the soft click that means the kettle has boiled and I ease my way off the floor, feeling ancient, and shuffle into the kitchen to make tea. "DAD DAD DAD DAD" Harry yells cheerfully at my retreating form.

I love these early mornings and guard them jealously. Sometimes on a weekend, Mr B will offer to get up with Harry to give me some more sleep. It is tempting. I am sorely tired, and I haven't had a true, decent night's sleep in more than two years. Not one night. But these mornings are worth even more than sleep. So I drag my body out of bed and hold Harry's chubby little hot-water-bottle-body close as we climb down the stairs. Flip the kettle on. Ease Harry onto his mat on the floor. Tickle his ribs. "Dad dad dad dad." "Say Mummy!" And so another day begins.

It is so rare that I am still, in life, ever. Still of body or of mind. I multitask obsessively. I can't even relax doing one thing: I'll draw or craft or write while watching TV. I've never been good at meditating, I'm one of those people guilty of composing shopping lists and having imaginary conversations with people at work while supposedly entering a guided meditatively-zen state at the end of a yoga class.

But these winter mornings teach me to be present in a way that meditation never has. I sit on the floor and smile at Harry. There are books and magazines and my phone and my computer nearby and they call to me, but I have learned that the best mornings happen when I leave all those distractions closed. It's just me and Harry and that cup of tea.

I know I'm not the only one finding the pace of life almost insane these days. It's such a cliche to talk about the progress of time but have you realised that this year is already more than half over? Wasn't it just New Years? Just last month? Life tilts in a dizzying chaos, and any tasks I put off can languish neglected for months that feel like mere days. It's as though the rush and roar of our planet and its moon hurtling around the sun can actually be heard and felt, and in the cacophony of that cosmic journey we all have to yell and scream and jump up and down just to be heard. Even to hear ourselves.

But in the still, dark morning, the planets pause. The world hovers. Venus hangs like a jewel outside my window while the dawn waits to happen. My legs are crossed on the rug beside Harry ("Dad dad dad dad"), my fingers are laced around the Pantone colour mug I have chosen to match the mood of my waking (orange or yellow for energy, blue for creativity, sage green for calm), and it is perfect peace. Dawn can wait.

{All photographs licensed for unrestricted use under Creative Commons}

Girly is as girly does

Did you play with dolls as a child? I was never all that much interested. My best friend Sam and I preferred instead to wrap bandages around the limbs of our soft-toy animal collections, and Sam's ET doll, as practice for becoming vets.* But already I can see Madeleine taking more pleasure in dolls than I ever did. She uses them for role-play, mimicking the mother-like actions that she sees in me, as she cares for her own little "Baby Suzy." Madeleine and her Daddy Pig doll go to work together. "Busy Mummy, very busy," she informs me with weighty authority. Then later she'll put Daddy Pig in the little toy pram and announce that they are off to the tea house together.

When you are the mother of a girl, dolls can be a fraught subject. Once considered a simple and innocent pastime, it seems dolls these days are loaded with gender stereotypes and social politics, and carry the weight of a girl's future profession and confidence and self-worth on their often all-too-bony shoulders. But what can you do about it? The fact remains that a lot of girls (and a good number of boys) simply like playing with dolls.

That's why I love the ideas behind emerging company Girly Girl Doll Company so much. They recognise that children like to play with dolls, and that some little girls want to be princesses. There's nothing wrong with that, they say. Let a girl dream. BUT let's show her how to dream even bigger! Give her options, broaden her horizons, encourage her to explore and play and innovate, and teach her empathy and compassion for others.

I can see this being fantastic for Madeleine. Because I really don't want Barbie to be her role model. But at least right now, Madeleine has zero interest in super heroes. If I tried to interest her in a superhero doll, male or female, she'd be unlikely to go for it. She's just not a lycra-lovin' two-year-old. The girl likes pink, and the girl likes tutus, what are you gonna do? Show her that pink-tutu-wearing girls can do great things and have great adventures too, that's what!

The concept behind Girly Girl Dolls is that children can customise a doll of their own, choosing hair and eye and skin colour etc, letting their natural creativity take the lead. A portion of proceeds from every doll sold is donated to girleffect.org, an international movement working to include adolescent girls in education, health and economic investment. In addition, any accessories purchased for the doll will have a corresponding social mission. So clothes purchased for a doll will also be used to fund donations to international orphanages. A medical kit for a doll will help fund medical care in at-risk areas around the world.

Girly Girl Dolls are part physical product and part interactive experience. After the child customises the physical doll to make it their own, a series of interactive apps and accessories guide them through a labyrinth of experiences, meeting other characters from other cultures along the way.

Don't you think this is a lovely concept? It takes the focus away from looks and turns it, instead, onto adventure and imagination and empathy. Because tomboys are not the antidote to princesses. Little girls (and little boys) should be allowed to be either, or both, or anything in between. But let's bring up tomboys and princesses who are globally aware, creative, bold, adventurous and compassionate.

If you'd like to get behind this idea, Girly Girls is running a crowd-funding campaign right now in which you can reserve a limited edition (one of 500) doll for just $1. Ultimately the cost will be $125. Take a look around their website to learn more.

* In case you're thinking play has no relationship to a child's future choices, Sam actually did become a vet.

Favourite things - loving lately

Happy Friday, friends. Oh and an extra big welcome if you're visiting for the first time from Pip Lincolne's blog Meet Me at Mikes. How awesome is Pip! Sending big love and thanks her way for sending YOU my way. I'm a Melbourne-dwelling mother of two, a journalist, an author, and a big fan of snail mail. If you want to say hi, be sure to leave a link to your own blog if you have one so I can come visit you in turn... You know what's really great about the weather being so cold you can see your breath in the air in front of you? Heaters and knee-rugs and ugg-boots and the kettle on the boil, that's what! So from the warmth and comfort of my couch, hands periodically cradled around a hot cup of tea, I bring you five things I'm loving lately.

1. For my home: hanging plants

Lately I find I'm really hankering for plants inside my home. I long for the sense of calm they create, and the suggestion of health, clean air, and generally being a little more grounded (even when you live in an inner-city terrace house). Right now we only have one plant in the house, a beautiful terrarium that a friend gave me at Easter. And it's dying. How do you kill terrarium plants? I thought they were almost indestructible. Maybe I over-watered it, I have been known to kill plants with kindness...

Anyway, I think this mid century hanging planter seen on Justina Blakeney (via Chantelle Grady) is gorgeous in its simplicity and clean lines. Plus I love the interest and variety that hanging plants generate in a home. AND hanging planters keep soil and potentially-toxic leaves out of reach of curious little hands.

2. For my rainy afternoon: home-made crumpets

This icy, wet and blustery weather calls for hot crumpets, dripping in butter and honey, wouldn't you agree? And tea, of course. On particularly cold days, Madeleine and Harry and I love to treat ourselves to crumpets for morning or afternoon tea. It feels all very proper and British, don't you know? One of these days, I'd really like to try making crumpets from scratch. If for no other reason than that I like the idea of eating crumpets any darn time I like, rather than only when I've remembered to buy them from the supermarket (which is not very often). I think I'll give this recipe a try some time soon.

3. For giggles: NYC survival guide

These illustrations on how to survive life in New York have been doing the rounds of the Internet for a little while, and every time they cross my radar they make me laugh. During my time living in NYC I quickly learned that New Yorkers were short on time and space, so respecting those two things in others was paramount.

In New York, it doesn't matter how unusual or seemingly absurd your dream is: there are people who will know people, and they will want to help you. But I had to learn to make the most of every opportunity, because while New Yorkers might be generous with their knowledge and connections, they don't have time to hold your hand and cajole and convince you to go ahead. The rest is up to you.

That's the serious side. On the lighter side, you can buy the very cute and funny NYC Basic Tips and Etiquette book by Nathan W. Pyle on Amazon, or take a look at some animated GIFs of the same illustrations (click on each image to see the animation).

4. For my children: a balloon wall

I bookmarked this fantastic balloon wall idea in the lead-up to Madeleine's second birthday earlier this month. She LOVES balloons (pronounced "baboons") and in the month leading up to her birthday party we discussed balloons at least every day. In the end I didn't create the balloon wall because I just had too much else to do for her TWO parties, and by the day of her actual birthday I think she had reached the point of celebration fatigue. Still, I am dying to do this. Maybe on another birthday. Or maybe one day, just for kicks. I can imagine the two children coming downstairs of a morning and finding a balloon wall to tear down. That could be a lot of fun, don't you think?

5. For my ride: handwoven bike baskets

Do you ride a bike? I miss mine! It was a 1970s yellow Speedwell with back-pedal brakes and no gears, and it was precisely my speed. During the few months that we lived in Adelaide it really came into its own, because Adelaide was so flat and linked by so much green. I loved exploring the city on my little bike! I gave the bike away while I was pregnant because it wasn't the type that could be converted to safely transport little ones, and it was (and will be) a long time before I'll be riding solo again.

But the day I step across two wheels again, I definitely want one of these handwoven Asungtaba bike baskets on the front. They are made for House of Talents, an organisation connecting talented artisans in developing countries to consumers worldwide. (Also available from Anthropologie)

That's it for Friday folks. I hope your weekend is shiny and happy!

ps. Some posts you might have missed if you're new here...

* Melbourne: have you been to Kinfolk Cafe? * Snail mail: here are 19 fab pen pals, and here is some decorated mail I'm sending * Mothering: I won the lottery * Making: these woodland picnic party invitations are quick, easy and leave a great impression * Nesting: the story of the snow globe * Art: Aussie artist Emma Lipscombe reveals where she looks for inspiration * More favourite things

A surfeit of lemons (and 16 mostly-savoury things to do with them)

Outside as I write this the wind is howling - true Brontë-sisters-story-style howling - around the house. Rain is whipping sideways into the windows, the dog inside is shifting on his chair and can't seem to relax.

Yesterday the beautiful old rose vine that had been clambouring over our front verandah for more decades than I could guess fell down, tumbling loosely over the little front garden and spilling over onto the pavement outside. I tried to pick it up and tie it back but all the tendrils have latched on to our front fence and it is impossible to shift that heavy, thorny mass. So I guess I know what we will be doing on the weekend. Also yesterday the little green patch of synthetic grass I put down out the back for Madeleine to play on lifted right up off the ground and flew onto my little veggie box.

And so it goes. While I sit and type in ugg boots and an old jumper and heating and sip a warm cup of tea, outside, you will find Winter. Deserving of the capital W.

But in one small spot in our back yard, no matter what the weather throws at it, you will also find a joyful patch of sunshine. Our lemon tree, once intended to be espaliered along the courtyard wall but long since left to branch out and flop over and do any darned thing it wants, is positively dripping with fruit. There is so much fruit we can't pick it fast enough, and it is starting to rot on the tree. Does anyone want any lemons? Hit me up! And I'm not trying to boast or anything (ok I am a bit) but these are the BEST lemons you'll ever taste. I'm not even kidding. They are sweet and juicy and not at all pithy. The skin is an almost luminous yellow, it doesn't quite look real. Except it is.

But what am I going to do with them all? Mr B has put a spanner into the works by not liking lemon-flavoured sweets. Crazy right? I know! So no lemon meringue pie or lemon butter or lemon slice... because I can't make it all for me, can I. (Can I?) Last night I cooked this recipe for our dinner, mainly because it used the zest of a lemon. I thought it was delicious but Mr B gave it a "Meh," so it won't stay on rotation. What would you do? Here are some (mostly savoury) lemon ideas I've gathered so far:

* Home-made lemonade (we love this recipe), although it's more of a summer drink

* Have you ever tried this handy tip for freezing lemons?

* Charred broccoli & tofu stuffed avocados with sweet lemon curry sauce

* Roasted lemon potatoes sound pretty delicious

* 5 natural beauty remedies using lemons

* Lots of great ideas in this Lemon Love  post, not all of them sweet

* Grilled lemon chicken

* Preserved lemons, to be used in dishes like these

* This one pan spicy lemon chicken pasta looks tasty and easy

* How about a lemon garlic vinaigrette?

* I think this lemon flatbread looks interesting

* Spaghetti with lemon, ricotta and spinach

* One of these days (!) I might try this detoxing lemon water, to be taken with whole foods

* Cheese ravioli with lemon basil butter sauce

* This creamy lemon poppyseed salad dressing looks tasty

* The next time I cook a roast, I may try this oven-roasted lemon parmesan broccoli

How about you? Do you know any tried and true non-dessert uses for lemon you think I should try?

Snail mail: the Madeleine edition

A short while ago I sat across the table from Madeleine, painting brown-paper-wrapped parcels to send to blog subscribers. I had out the water-colours and was applying some tint to the pictures I'd outlined in black pen (always with the art-liner). For her part, Madeleine was up to her elbows in craft paint and was smearing her hands with joyous abandon across a big sheet of butchers' paper.

Then I left the room to make a cup of tea. When I returned, Madeleine had gotten her paint-covered little hands onto one of my wrapped parcels, and was covering it with her own brand of mail art. That parcel was intended for Michelle, and you can see the finished product below. I think she is pretty lucky to be receiving a one-of-a-kind work of art by Madeleine in the mail, don't you?

After the clean-up, I had a little try at wrapping some of the parcels with Madeleine's butchers' paper and went for a minimal, line-drawing feel instead. I also had a play with some collages, just to mix things up.

I hope everyone likes their mail! More coming soon...

Artist Emma Lipscombe on where to find inspiration

These gorgeous geometric colour explosions are the works of Western Australian artist and landscape artist Emma Lipscombe. It's hard to tell from the photographs but they are actually made with oil-paint on individually-cut pieces of wood, fitted together into intricate and beautifully tactile patterns.

I love finding out how artists and other creative people come up with their ideas. I almost always find I have something to learn from them.

"Inspiration comes from all over the place and before I start working I'll pour over my books, magazines, blogs and imagery on Instagram," Emma told me, when I asked her how she came up with her ideas. "I also think of people that I find inspiring and interesting, ones that I know first hand and some I don't, like the creatives you find on the likes of FVF. I am drawn to a certain aesthetic more and more these days, one that is clean and simple and not too much fuss.

"Creative Block (and the Doubt Monsters) are regular visitors of mine and they come knocking at least once a week! I think they can be fended away with some good immersion in these three things; books, internet and discussing your work with a ready listener (over a glass of wine)."

When it comes to finding that elusive balance between our home, social, work and creative lives, it seems Emma struggles just as much as the rest of us. "I do projects as a Landscape Architect, have a family, and a bit of a life," she says, "but most evenings I will paint. If I don't manage to find the time, I'll be feeling a bit miffed!"

All images here are used with Emma Lipscombe's kind permission. If you'd like to see more of her work, or stay in touch to find out when and where she might be exhibiting, Emma's website is www.emmalipscombe.com, and you can follow her on Instagram at @emmalipscombe_.

Why do you write?

The following four questions about writing are part of a "blog-hop" that's doing the rounds at the moment. If you've never heard of this term, a blog-hop is like a never-ending relay (if the baton could be divided an infinite number of times). I received the baton from straight-talking fellow Melbournian Annette of I Give You the Verbs. Annette is one of the friendliest, most encouraging, most connected bloggers I've met, and you can read about her own writing process here. Leave Annette a comment because she always responds, and she's wonderfully chatty and supportive across social media.

1. What are you working on right now?

This blog! I'm always trying to improve it because I want it to be more useful, more interesting, and more reliable for you*. Straight after this I'm going to write you a post on an amazing Australian artist, who was kind enough to answer some questions for us about where she finds inspiration (and time) to create. That'll go live tomorrow so stay tuned!

And also...

* An e-book - possibly a series of e-books - about Melbourne and parenting and parenting in Melbourne, and stuff like that

* Letters - lots and lots of snail mail letters to you guys. And on the back of that, I'm thinking perhaps I'll form a mail-art pen-pal network, and/or a stationery swap. Would anyone be interested if I did that?

* A novel - it's about a sommelier who does dastardly things to get hold of the ultimate wine. I have been working on this novel FOREVER (or so it seems), because it's hard to get and keep your head inside a novel with little distractions running around the house

* My job! - part time, I write feature articles for magazines, and write copy and communications strategies for companies and charities

Phew that's a lot of writing. No wonder the carpal tunnel has been acting up.

2. How does your writing differ from others in your genre?

One of the great things about personal blogs is that they are free from the constraints of house styles, or any formulaic kinds of writing. So really this question is moot. What you read here differs from others because it is my voice, writing about my life and my ideas and the things that I love and the things that I think (I hope) will bring you joy.

3. Why do you write what you do?

Being born into a literate culture brings with it many advantages. But one of the disadvantages is that many of us have lost the ability to retain things - facts, stories, ideas - without writing them down. I definitely fall into this category. In fact the way I'm not sleeping these days, I'd be in danger of forgetting my own name if it wasn't in my blog title! So I write this blog to document the things that are important. Precious moments, shared with those I love. Places I've visited that I really want to visit again. The process of building a home. At the same time, I keep discovering wonderful things that I want to share with you. Creative projects that I admire (and sometimes try). Food stories. Food trucks! Snail mail! Documenting and discovering. That's why I write this blog.

4. How does your writing process work?

My top tip - as an author, a journalist, a blogger, a copywriter and an all-round storyteller - is to break everything down into manageable portions. If you don't know where to start, just write one paragraph. Then another, and another. When I was at university I'd break a standard 3000 word essay down into portions: 200-300 word introduction, 200 word conclusion. Three key arguments, of 800 words each. Four core elements / points to each argument, of 200 words each. That's not much. Just start writing! Before I knew it I'd have my 3000-word essay written, and all I needed then was to give it a "big picture" finesse. That is still my writing process today, in everything I do. Just break it down and anything - even a novel - becomes achievable.

Another trick that my first editor taught me was this: you don't have to be the expert, you just have to find the expert and ask them the right questions. Whether I'm sharing craft or recipes on this blog, writing a feature story about business, writing a novel about wine or anything else, that advice has come in handy almost every day of my writing life.

Now, what about the other writers?

Passing the baton, I want you to first meet Belgium-based Turkish blogger Gulin Senol-Dreesen. Her blog Hyper Real Details is a beautiful reflection of the fleeting moments that make life so precious. Gulin reached out to me when I had just given birth to Madeleine, and she was pregnant with her own beautiful daughter. She is such a lovely, artistic soul. Sometimes she lets her images tell the story, in others, her words shine (despite English not being her first language - can you imagine how hard that must be?). I can't wait to read what she has to share about why she writes.

Next, I want to introduce you to Katherine Mackenzie-Smith of The Beauty of Life. Katherine is one of those people who acts on her dreams. You know how when the rest of us are sitting around thinking "I wish I had that" or "I wish I did that for a job" or "I wish that was my life"...? When Katherine thinks those things, she makes them happen. Recently Katherine switched careers from TV production to life coaching, and I can't think of anyone more qualified to help people make their own dreams come true. I met her through her personal blog, and have followed her progress with pleasure.

Take it away ladies!

And in the meantime, tell me in the comments. Why do YOU write?

* (On that, is there anything you'd like to see more of on here? Anything you're not so keen on? Anything you'd like to hear from me that I haven't covered?)

Little things - snow globe

Little things in my home… Inside this snow globe is a sculpture of my old house. If you look closely, you can see the No. 10 number-plate gleaming proudly beside the door.

This was the first home that I ever owned and lived in, and it was glorious. Old carved-oak staircases winding up and dividing in two and winding some more. Hallways with stairs that go up two and down two again for no apparent reason. A Harry Potter-esque cupboard under the stairs. French doors, stained glass windows and a rickety upstairs balcony. There were tatty Persian carpets over the floorboards, left behind by the previous owner, and a truly hideous Medieval-style painting in vomit-tinted hues hanging over the fireplace in the dining room, that we kept up because it made us laugh.

The house was also icy and draughty in winter, and oppressively hot and prone to letting bugs inside in summer. It was dusty all the time, no matter how often you cleaned and vacuumed. The downstairs bathroom was too frightening to use (unless you were really desperate), and whenever planes took off or landed in nearby Sydney Airport, all the windows rattled and all conversations had to be put on pause.

Outside, we turned the little back courtyard into a garden with winding pathways and vegetables and flowering plants and vines. There was space for a table and chairs, and we would sit out there together on warm summer nights with a glass of wine to hand, and listen to the live music wafting across from the Warren View pub, just down the road. Until a plane flew over, blocking out all other sounds. Then, we would wave because, seriously, those planes were so close we were sure the passengers could see us.

Before we moved into this house, I lived out of our car for three months. Which is to say I didn't sleep in the car (there wasn't room - after a while I couldn't even drive the car because there was so much stuff in it), I just kept my things (and Mr B's things, and Emily's and Meg's things) in it while moving from place to place: hotels, hostels, short-term accommodations, while working every day an hour away in Sydney's west, and waiting. Waiting to buy a house, waiting for settlement so we could move into the house, waiting for Mr B to finally move down from Queensland, where he was still working. Waiting because I had crossed the world - again - and moved from New York to Australia to start a proper life with the man I loved and here I was with all my belongings in plastic bags (suitcases had long since stopped fitting in the car), alone, treading emotional water, and searching for home.

We only lived in that house for nine months. But in that time we hosted birthday parties and BBQs, my book was published, we got engaged, we planted vegetables (we harvested the vegetables, we ate the vegetables), we got married (in the back yard, witnessed by 40 of our closest friends and about 400 air passengers en route to some holiday or another), the house overflowed with summer house-guests, we rescued a cat. We loved we argued we laughed we planned we painted we explored we wove stories of us. I started to learn how to cook.

So much has changed since we lived at No. 10 (three more interstate moves! two babies!), and often I feel like the me that lived inside that house was somebody else, somebody I read about inside a book. Could all this really have happened only three years ago?

Just before we moved, I had this snow globe made so that we could take it with us. It sits on the bookshelf of our family room now, where more often than not mess and chaos and all things children reign. And that seems fitting, because No. 10 was the first house I lived in that felt like a family home, since leaving the one I grew up in. It was while living in this house and spending so much time with Emily that I first began to think that maybe, just maybe, I might like to be a mother after all...

“Little Things” is an occasional series about the stories behind some of the little things you’ll find around my home. Are there stories behind the little things in your home? I’d love you to tell me about them! Or if you’d like to join in and write a post like this of your own, don’t forget to share a link to it so I can read it.

19 pen pals you wish you had

As you probably know, I like to draw pictures on my mail to make them pretty. But did you know there was a whole movement called "mail art"? I only just discovered this! It's when people take the time to decorate the envelopes, so you get a wonderful treat before you even open the letter (and the postie gets something lovely to look at, too).

I've taken a wander around the Internet and collated 19 lovely letterly folk who - surely - make the posties and pen-pals of the world very happy indeed!

1 // Sender: Kaitlyn Patience from isavirtue. Last Christmas, Kaitlyn came up with the idea of a snail-mail advent: she posted one beautiful letter a day to various friends, in the lead-up to Christmas

2 // Sender: Dean Grey from Exploding Doughnut, who sent this 'leaf mail' to cheer up a friend who was going through tough times

3 // Sender: Katherine from Wishbone Blog. Katherine has two younger sisters who are the "golden threads" in her life, but they live far away. So she sent this lovely mail to them for their birthdays

4 // Sender: Fabrizia from Wreck this Girl. Fab is a pen pal extraordinaire, although she's put new pen pals on hiatus while she focuses on uni. Take a look through her blog for some beautiful mail

5 // Sender: Marian from That's the Way the Cookie Crumbles. I love the way she makes collages on her mail from pop culture clippings

6 // Sender: Giova from One Bunting Away. There are lovely themes to these mail packages. Take a look at the Alice in Wonderland-themed package. I must do that for a friend one day!

7 // Sender: Illustrator Axel Sheffler, to children's book publisher Klaus Flugge. Take a look through this gallery in The Guardian to see some amazing snail mail Flugge received from other illustrators

8 //Sender: Bianca from Good Night Little Spoon. Bianca is so generous she not only made this beautiful envelope for a mail-swap, she created a free printable so we can make our own letters look this pretty too!

9 // Sender: Magdalena from The Craft Revival. I love these envelopes: they are like a colour explosion! Magdalena gives the rest of us five tips to make our mail look this great

10 // Sender: Rin from Papered Thoughts. Rin sends and receives all kinds of beautiful mail. Take a look through some of the incoming and outgoing mail on her blog

11 // Sender: Meghan from And Here We Are. Meghan must truly be the typography queen. You don't need to draw pictures or use colours to create stunningly beautiful letters

12 // Sender: Rin from Papered Thoughts. Again. Because, how adorable are those washi tape flags!

13 // Sender: Paper pastries. This blog is full of hand-crafted and designed mail, and lovely calligraphy, as well as stories of personal mail shared between pen pals

14 // Sender: Le Blog de Liberty. So my French isn't great, but as far as I can tell, this post title says "Spring mail-art." And those colours are tres jolie, oui?

15 // Sender: London illustrator Chetan, who goes by the name Cheism. How amazing is the line-drawn city behind the address on this mail!!

16 //  Sender: Emily from Thimble Cat. Do you know any fans of the Grand Budapest Hotel? If you do, how about sending them a little letter that looks like this?

17 // Sender: Lindsay Ostrom. Lindsay heard a story about a post-mistress who was trying to save her little post office, one postcard at a time. So she sent her this stunning record postcard

18// Sender: Moi! I'm not exactly in the league of these other guys but I do love to send mail, and if you subscribe to this blog, I'd be happy to send you a free copy of my book Airmail to say thank you. I'll try to make the mail look pretty, too. Here's some other mail I've sent. (Fair warning: I put the snail in snail mail, but I will write!) Just go here to send me your details.

19 // And finally, anyone who contributes to the Mail Me Art project. About eight years ago, smarty pants Darren Di Lieto came up with the genius idea of inviting artists and illustrators from all over the world to send him decorated mail. They didn't even have to include anything inside the mail: "the medium is the message," he said. You can buy the books from this project here and, if you're feeling creative, you can contribute to the latest project (and book) here.

Now it's over to you. Who would you add to this list? Do you like to send pretty mail? Share a link to your mail project in the comments if you do so we can all admire it!

UPDATE 5 July 2014: as of today I have run out of copies of Airmail to send you. However I would still love to send you something nice by snail-mail to say thank you for reading this blog, and I will still do my best to make it look pretty. If you have subscribed to this blog (or you want to), simply fill in your postal details on this page. And if you're still keen to read Airmail, there's a list of stockists here.

Inside the floral rainbow - Rebecca Louise Law

I know a bank where the wild thyme blows, Where oxlips and the nodding violet grows, Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine, With sweet musk-roses and with eglantine: There sleeps Titania sometime of the night, Lull'd in these flowers with dances and delight. ~ William Shakespeare, A Midsummer Night's Dream (2.1.255-60)

Have you ever wondered what the inside of a rainbow smells like? Me neither, until recently.

A few weeks ago I saw some photographs of Rebecca Louise Law's floral installations online, and they took my breath away. The extravagance and generosity of these canopies of flowers are just extraordinary! I can barely fathom the vision, and the attention to detail, that it must make to create these all-too-fleeting interactive works of art.

Rebecca is a London-based installation artist who mainly works with natural elements, like wood, fruit and flowers. Her work is exhibited in galleries and museums, but she has also been commissioned to create high-end fashion displays. It always makes me happy when artists give me a "why didn't I think of that?" moment. Like, WHY do we always display flowers facing up? Because JUST LOOK at how beautiful they are when seen from underneath! To my mind, it's this kind of creative, out-of-the-box thinking - alongside talent and hard-won skill, of course - that sets a true artist apart from a clever copy-cat.

I am trying to imagine what it must be like to stand inside one of her amazing works. The best I can come up with is that it would be a sensory overload of the most beautiful, colourful kind. And perhaps provide the answer to what it smells like inside a rainbow.

All images and permissions generously provided by Rebecca Louise Law