Happiness

This morning I woke up thinking about my last post. The sky was cloudy, it was going to be another cold, possibly rainy day. But somehow, I felt so happy inside, it almost scared me. And it got me thinking about the essence of this blog, about the real box of inspiration. There actually is a real box of inspiration, made of cardboard and covered in pictures and newspaper cuttings, filled with dreams, ideas. And brimming with my own happiness.

So I spent the morning finding more quotes to put on that box, filling it with more inspiration. And smiling the whole time. It's strange how a single day can sometimes change everything in the way you look at the world. It doesn't really matter what happens to you, it only matters how you look at what has happened. And even if everything goes wrong, if your heart gets broken, you open your own box of inspiration or just look into your happiest memories, and tears will spring to your eyes as you realise how truly lucky you are. There will always be people who love you and care about you.

No matter what happens, that box of inspiraion will stay untouched, because no one can take away the happiness that I once felt and the dreams that I have. And re-reading my last, rather gloomy post, I realised that the end of something is equally the beginning of something new. And whatever happens, good or bad, it makes me who I am. But it takes only a look inside my box of inspiration to see who I am again, and that I am made of more than just pain. Love. Friendship. And - despite all the tears - laughter.

Which brings me to my list of three great things about yesterday:
1. Laughing with complete strangers on the train.
2. Laughing and crying while watching New Year's Eve (very cute movie by the way!)
3. Weirdly enough, trying on jumpers at Tommy Hilfiger (which was so much fun, especially the way the shop assistants were very helpful AND cute)

Enjoy your day!
Love, x

The last days of a year

For many people, the last days of a year are a time of reflection, resolution and absolution. It's one of those in-between times, long, cold nights spent pondering the very depths of your existence. To me, these last few days before New Year's Eve, after the buzz and excitement of Christmas is wearing off, seem like the last days of real relaxation to enjoy before a long stretch of hard work. With graduation approaching, a million future-related fears on my mind, it's difficult to enjoy the here and now. Somehow, by July next year, I will have reached the end. At least, that's what it feels like. Two years of hard work and a final grade in my hand and it's all over.

Then again, this looming black line on the horizon that feels like an expiration date is also the mark of freedom. Between July and October, there will be a space, a gap, a time of transition between my life now and the future. And then the next chapter, that common metaphor, will unfold before my eyes. And like my favourite authors, it will manage to scare me, exhaust me and yet always exhilarate me.

But the questions that sneaks up behind your back while you are working so hard on a goal is: What is the point? What is the greater purpose?

And each time it is shocking how answerless I feel. It seems as though, all our life, we are working hard to work even harder in the future. So that sneaky question really has a point, doesn't it?

I recently read an article about downshifting, slowing down your life and finding meaning in small things. It's a goal that seems to have taken a hold of many people in recent times. With the world shrinking and spinning faster and faster, we are slowly losing contol of it all. We are all losing the real meaning of why we are here, te meaning of our lives.

Some people seem to seek freedom and inspiration on travels, by delving into foreign cultures and communities. Others close their eyes and plod blindly on through their daily lives, trying hard not to hear the sneaky question that is always a few steps behind them.

A person very dear to me once said that one shouldn't ponder "deep, philosophical questions" when it's dark. So this is me stopping. Or at least finishing the deep, philosophical thought with a happy once.

Personally, I feel lucky to have this box of inspiration. It reminds me everyday of what I'm working for, of why I love my life and the people in it. Seeing and recording the beauties of your day to day life is a great reminder of the meaning of life. No need for journies abroad for the present. They can wait for that In-between time.

One way to remind yourself daily of the little beauties is writing down three of them. Here I go, off the top of my head:
1. Taking a brisk walk in stormy weather.
2. Making a ham-and-cheese-bake with my mum.
3. Having milk and warm bread for dinner.

(two of todays beauties are food-related! Proof of a what a food-addict and lover I am! ;) )

Enjoy post-Christmas laziness! 
Love, x 

The most wonderful time of the year

One of my favourite Christmas songs starts out with the words "It's the most wonderful time of the year". Well, I couldn't agree more. To me, Christmas time is a time of family, friends, of giving gifts and enjoying the splendours of life. At the end of the year, everyone is a little and Christmas just perks everyone up in time for the New Year to start. Apart from being the most wonderful time of year, it is also my favourite time of year.

Christmas is a time of year that gives me the chance to give thanks for all the love and success I was given throughout the year. Weeks are spent baking, preparing Christmas presents and writing cards. Around Christmas, we get the chance to tell the people we love just how much we love them. This is the reason I will be walking through the crisp cold air tomorrow morning with two bags bursting with gifts swinging at my side. It is simply something I enjoy to do. Sitting at my desk, thinking of the millions of little ways I can surprise a person ... such as making Christmas cards myself!

It's only a few days to Christmas now, time to put up the Christmas tree and wrap the last presents. There will be Christmas music in the background and the smell of German "Honigkuchen", cinnamon stars and hot chocolate in the air. Christmas is one of those times of year that are really all about enjoyment. The only thing missing around here is snow. But I hope that part will come in eventually.

And then it's only another week to New Year's Eve ... I couldn't be more excited to take this blog into the new year. It has truly inspired me to write more and to be creative!

Finally, I want to share a "not so Christmassy" song with you. It's a medley of "Viva la Vida" by Coldplay and "Love Story" by Taylor Swift, by two amazing musicians. Check out their channels for more amazing classic-meets-pop videos! This medley truly brings a smile to my face and perfectly captures my mounting sense of excitement as Christmas approaches.

Back to wrapping gifts then,
Love x

Lucky leaves

Somebody once told me that for every leave you catch in autumn, you get a lucky month in the new year. A few days ago, I remembered this conversation with a jolt. The ground was covered in frost and the trees were almost bare. For weeks, I'd been going for long, crunchy autumn walks under trees laden down with leaves, completely forgetting about the luck I might be able to catch. How could I have gone for my entire childhood without ever hearing about the lucky leaves?

Last year, after said conversation - I now remember it quite vividly - I spent an entire afternoon under the bows of the old oak trees in our village, no doubt oberserved by amused neighbours. It must have looked ridiculous - leaping to and fro, frantically trying to snatch the twirling leaves out of the sky. I didn't manage 12 leaves, I gave up at 7. Somehow, catching all 12 months of good luck seemed overkill to me.

Now here I am, more than a year later, looking back. I don't even remember where I put those lucky leaves. You're supposed to keep them somewhere safe or you won't get your luck after all. I wonder if you could describe the past year as lucky. Then again, what is luck anyway?

The dictionary defines luck as 'The chance happening of fortunate or adverse events' or 'prosperity, success'. Now that I've typed it out, I realise I wasn't really looking for the dictionary's answer to my question, but rather a more philosophical approach. Every person I've met so far in my life defines luck a little differently. Most link luck directly to happiness. I am no exception.

So, in retrospect, I must say that the past year has been lucky in many ways. I know this is not really the best time to reflect, with the New Year still more than two months away, but it's never too early to start, right?
My year has been lucky in so many ways: discovering true friendship, having some of the best times over the summer and of course realising that all this will always stay a part of me in my box of inspiration. So writing this blog is part of that too.

And I must say that catching luck no longer appeals to me now. If you really think about it, luck is only exciting if it happens by chance, something you didn't expect. Just like happiness. Trying to catch luck is an amusing game, exciting for children, and trying to convince yourself you can control it.

There are always ways in which we surprise ourselves, discover there are things to say that we never thought about before. It means that I can walk under the trees in autumn, under all those snowing leaves, without reaching for those spinning brown spirits of luck. But if one of them should happen to land gently on my shoulder, I wouldn't brush it away.

Love, x

That Picture callled Life

This is a poem I wrote about happiness and about belonging. All the things that belong in a box of inspiration. 

A thick knitted sweater, splashing through puddles,
riding my bike between morning and night,
when the streets are empty, just me and the moon.
Cookies and milk, old children's books,
autumn leaves, that snow from the trees.
And saying goodybe, but I'll be seeing you soon.
All the colours of joy, in that picture called life,
I wish I could hold them in the palm of my hand.

Crying and laughing, all at once,
making a wish on New Year's Eve,
with the promise of new things, but never quite sure. 
A purring cat, and birthday surprises,
and smelling your favourie meal at the door,
being hugged goodnight, and feeling secure.
All the happiness and love, all the truth in the world,
and a box of inspiration that I find in my heart.

Love, x

Oatmeal Apple Cookies

I can't believe it's already November! Halloween came around so quickly, with pumpkins and sweets piling up in the kitchen from one moment to the next and ghosts and witches knocking on our door. And then, suddenly, I open my eyes to a crisp blue November sky. Quite shocking to think that Christmas is less than two months away and many important birthdays are coming up (inlcuding my own)! November just sounds so much more wintry than 'October' and I felt my sweet tooh nagging me for something nice and chewy ... so after a wonderfully cold November 1st walk, I decided to make myself a bit of a treat for dinner: Oatmeal Apple Cookies!

I only made 8 cookies, though they were about the size of my hand, since this was a new recipe I had found on the internet. The original uses raisins, but I was in the mood for something fruitier, so I used one of our delicious Braeburn apples instead.

Unfortunately they were so delicious, I forgot to take a picture! But this is what you should imagine them to look like: 

 (my cookies were a little spongier than these, with little bits of apple sticking out)

Here's the recipe:
3/4 cup all purpose flour (1 used 1/2 cup white and 1/4 wholewheat flour for more texture)
1 1/2 cups rolled oats
1/2 cup brown sugar
3 tbsp. white sugar
1/2 cup unsalted butter
1 large egg
1/2 tsp. baking soda
1/2 tsp. salt
1 tsp. ground cinnamon
1 cup peeled, cored and diced apples
2 tbsp. apple sauce

First, combine the dry ingredients and the wet ingredients in seperate bowls. Preheat your oven to 180°C. Mix the two, adding a little milk or apple juice if the batter is too dry. Now, make little mounds of dough on your baking sheet, making them higher than they are wide. Make sure to leave plenty of space between your cookies, or they will stick together! Bake them for 12 - 14 minutes or until they are golden brown. Make sure you don't have them in the oven for too long, or they will get too crispy!

These oatmeal cookies were easy, fluffy and just sweet enough to satisfy my cravings. You can exchange 1/2 cup rolled oats for sunflower seeds if you want more crunch, I will definitely try that next time! The apples gave these cookies just the right edge of tanginess and the rolled oats made them wonderfully chewy. 3 cookies straight out of the oven with some milk while reading Rudyard Kipling "Jungle Book" made my evening highly cosy.

Since we are, so to speak, right on winter's doorsteph, I have started to compile a list of winter must-have clothes. I don't know about you, but every season has a special colour for me. Autumn is definitely green and red and lovely dark plum colours as well as some soft beige tones and earthy browns. Some of the items are already in my closet, but many I still have to find!
Here's the list:

Dark red cardigan (check)
Dark green bulky cardigan (check, it's wonderfully warm, I'm wearing it as I type)
Red scarf
Beige mittens
thick red socks
Dark red or plum-coloured cosy sweater
plum-coloured lipstick
a dark brown skirt
colourful or interestingly patterned tights

Love, x

The Easiest Apple Pie you will ever make!

Today is the lucky day for everyone out there who is annoyed with complicated and time-consuming pie recipes because here is your solution: American One-Crust Pie with spiced apples and raisins. It is incredibly easily made and unfailingly delicious, a real winner!

Originally, I had been planning to make pumpkin pie with a good friend of mine this weekend, but in the end, it turned into an apple pie instead. In fact, it wasn't even a real apple pie, as we simply didn't have enough apples! I can definitely recommend Saturday's version of this pie: mango, apple and banana pie, which was very exotic but lacked none of the warmth and comfort of the original.

This pie is a real favourite of mine, adapted from Delia Smith's winter collection and loved by friends and family. When the weather gets cold outside, there is nothing better than a spicy, warm slice of this delicious apple pie and a nice cup of tea. However, you should know that this apple-pie is somewhat different from other American apple pies. To give you a hint, I like to refer to it by the name of Present Pie. Just put a bow on top and it would be the perfect gift!

For the shortcrust pastry you will need: 225 g plain flour and 100g butter as well as some cold water. I like to add cinnamon to my pastry, but it's up to you.
The filling consists of 675g apples (I like using a mixture of about sour and sweet apples), 1tsp. ground cloves, 1 tsp. ground cinnamon, 75g raisins, 1/2 tsp. ground nutmeg and 50g soft brown sugar.
Lastly, for the glaze you'll need 1 small, separated egg, some more cinnamon and about 30g soft brown sugar.
NOTE: you can use caster sugar for this recipe, but personally, I think the brown sugar gives the pie a much earthier and warmer taste, especially in combination with the cinnamon. 

To start with, warm up the butter in the microwave until it is softened and mix with the butter until the dough reaches the crumb stage. Add cold water to bring the dough together and then give it a thorough knead. Pop it in the fridge for about 30 minutes while you make the filling.

The filling is really just a simple matter of peeling, coring and cubing the apples and then add all the other filling ingredients. Mix it all together and preheat the oven to 200°C. Now take out the dough from the fridge.

Roll out the pastry on a flat surface, trying to make it as round as possible, until it has a diameter of about 35 cm. Lightly grease a solid baking sheet and transfer the pastry to it. Paint the pastry's inner circle (25cm) over with the egg yolk so the pastry won't get soggy from the filling (make sure you really use the egg yolk, I sometimes mix them up - the pie still tastes great, though, even if you do).

Now, simply pile the fruit mixture into the inner center. Finally, fold up the edges of the pastry towards the middle. If any breaks, patch it back together. Quoting Delia: "It's meant to look ragged and interesting!" There, the pie already looks a little like a present made out of dough!

 To finish with, brush the pastry all over with the egg white and sprinkle over the brown sugar. If you wish, dust in over with cinnamon. Pop the pie into the middle of the oven and bake it for 35 minutes, until the crust is a lovely golden brown.

My friend and I ate this off the baking sheet with spoons because it was so delicious, but if you have the willpower to serve it on a plate, it tastes brilliant with vanilla ice cream or a dash of custard.

Unfortunately, I was so busy devouring this fruit explosion of a pie that I forgot to take pictures of the filling but let me assure you, it was like unwrapping and trying out the best Christmas present you have ever received. And it was incredibly easy to make!

That day, we simply could not get enough of baking, so we made some lovely peanut butter chcolate chip cookies from scratch while we were waiting for the dough to cool:

At the beginning of Chapter Twelve in Delia's winter collection, which is called "Back to home baking", Delia remembers her mother and grandmother having a weekly baking day where they made all sorts of biscuits and cakes and pies. My baking day got pretty close to the warmth and comfort she describes in the chapter, something that really makes baking one of the most wonderful pastimes.

Love, x

The joys of autumn

I have made vow to myself to enjoy every single season to its fullest from now on. No more complaining, no more "I wish it was summer", "It's so cold outside", "I hate wearing thick jackets". For some reason, I find myself looking forward to the colder seasons so much this year, I simply could not wait to get into my winter boots and cosy jacket. Isn't it simple glorious to wrap yourself up in a thick, woolly scarf and knitted jumper in colourful patterns? To pull on a pair of extra-thick socks and crunch through the leaves in your winter boots? Picking leaves and acorns and chestnuts off the floor to decorate the house with? And the best part - finally getting home, red-cheeked and frozen to the bone, to a hot cup of tea? I know it sounds almost too cliché to be real, but that is exactly what I have been doing with my past week.

What I love most about autumn is that it's an in-between season. The sun is still bright and almost as warm as in summer, but the wind already has a wintry bite to it. There are days when you can still walk around in a light jacket and enjoy the dazzling contrast of green grass and russet-coloured leaves. And if it rains, just run yourself a bath ...

But the thing I love the most about autumn is pumpkin. I love eating pumpkin in any kind of way: roasted with onions, red chillies and saltry, crumbly cheese. In a curry alongside carrots and peas and green beans, soaking up the creamy coconut milk. And of course, the all-time favourite that I hadn't made in years until a week ago: Pumpkin Pie!

Actually, my idea of making pumpkin pie was inspired by a very good friend of mine who is an amazing cook and baker (she is a whizz at making cupcakes with the creamiest frosting, mhmm!), so I tested our old recipe before we made it together. Cooking the pumpkin, adding all the spices, the cream, the milk ... the smell was incredible. I sat in front of the oven for half an hour just breathing in that warming, buttery perfume.

I cannot begin to describe the agony of having to wait until the pie cools off, I must have resembled a starved wolf. However, that first spoonful of pie, the sweetness of the filling nicely rounded off by a thin, crisp yet still doughy pastry was more than divine. Now I can fully appreciate the term comfort food. A glass of milk alongside it makes it the perfect snack ... or dinner, in my case.

Love, x

Sheep, cows and mountains - Hiking in the Peak District

When I started this blog, I wanted to write about the things that hold my life together, that move me forward. In short, the things that sometimes make a person a person. There are moments in life when you truly realise the beauty of life and the people in it. There are moments when you can still surprise yourself.

Well, I've just returned from an incredible week spent in northern England, hiking in the Peak District and a stint in Manchester. It felt like a month and a day at the same time, over in the blink of an eye but yet jam-packed with amazing experiences. The kind of experiences that belong in a box of inspiration.

We went on several ten to 12-mile hikes in the Dark Peak and the White Peak, walking and climbing for up to seven hours a day. We climbed up Stanage Edge - it was the first time I climbed to the top of a hill. Carrying a nine-kilogram backpack, it was exhausting and there were several moments when I just wanted to lie down and cry or sleep, anything but keep walking. And then, when you get to the top and you feel the instant temperature drop when the wind tugs at your hair and see greyish clouds streaking across the sun, it evaporates. The whole climb up, your screaming muscles, even your sweaty face - they just disappear, to be replaced with a glorious, warm feeling of accomplishment. From that moment on, I just wanted more of it.

That day, we climbed up to more hills that felt like mountains to me. On one particularly steep slope, I felt the limits of my body so clearly, my shaking muscles and quick breath, it was terrrifying. But then, to find someone next to you, pushing you on, making you reach that little bit further, you crawl over that limit. I must admit, it was the people that got me to the top of that hill. I felt nauseated, my vision was blurred, but I'd did it. And that is the single-most wonderful experience ever. Enjoying it with all the others made it that much better.

After a few days of hiking, you feel your body settling into a rhythm. The countryside is calming for the spirit, walking for miles and miles is so natural. One becomes more sensitive to the little things: a river twisting far below in a narrow gorge, glittering in the late-afternoon light. The Peak District is beautiful: the landscape is ever-changing, with rolling hills changing into winding dales and leaf-strewn woods. There are stony bridleways and muddy fields and primeval-looking, moss-covered valleys. One gets used to having a group of sweaty hikers and lots of sheeps and cows for company. It doesn't matter what your room looks like as long as there's a bed, you start appreciating every meal, every drop of water. There is a feeling of going back to the roots, of getting closer to your innermost self, a quiet that spreads over you.

The first part of this trip was truly magical, a real lesson in knowing your own strength and stretching it to breaking-point. I learned a lot about myself, about my willpower and endurance - it was truly inspirational.

Love, x

Poetry - The road not taken

There are few things that can capture the essence of a moment in life better than poetry. You can write a novel about love and loss, you can embellish it with lovable characters and a strong plot, but it's very hard to break a subject down to its core that way. Poems, on the other hand, can be as short as two lines and carry as much meaning as twenty pages of a novel. I love headstrong, passionate poetry. Words are the juice of life.

One of the most beautiful peoms that I have ever read is 'The road not taken' by Robert Frost. This is how it goes:

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kep the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh,
Somewhere ages and ages hence;
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I -
I took the one less traveled by,
and that has made all the difference.

This poem is, in my opinion, about the decisions we make in life. We have to choose between two roads, two destinies if you will, trusting them to lead us on our way through life. Sometimes we take the smooth road, sometimes the thorny one, but as we know life, we will never glimpse the place of their crossing again. It is only in memory that we can go back to that yellow road and wonder whether we have made the right choice.

That's why I have chosen to post this poem: it's a time of decision-making in my life, and the life of many of my friends, and we are all a little afraid of taking that first step. Overwhelmed by possibilities, we are often presented with more three, even four roads to take. And each one twists and turns out of sight after a few steps. It's a leap of faith, and sometimes, especially in times like these, it can make all the difference.

Frost's poem is courageous, the lyrical I chooses one of the paths, however wistfully, and makes his way through life. He does not tell us whether he was truly happy with that choice, but then again, do we really want to know? Would it make our choices easier or more difficult? I think we all need to find our own road through that wood called life, and for everyone, this poem has a different end.

And maybe, even if our lives don't turn out the way we had planned or hoped they would be, we can at least look back at the road we traveled and say that we have enjoyed the journey. Isn't that what makes life the fullest and most beautiful? Wonderful memories of what has been, and looking ahead at the road that is still to be traveled. 

Love, x

My Carrot and Apple End-of-Summer Muffins

I really love those last golden days of summer, quietly slipping into autumn's crisp embrace. The sun is still strong and warm, but there is a breeze telling of things to come ... there are leaves raining down on me wherever I go, but the grass is still as green as in spring. These first few days of September are always the most glorious, so I decided to make End of Summer/Beginning of Autumn muffins.

 

First of all, there is nothing quite as wonderful to me as that wonderful perfume of muffins rising in the oven. You can taste the ingredients on the air: cinnamon ...  vanilla ... thick, golden butter ... When the days get colder, I long for those smells even more. Last night, as I was sitting out on the terrace, enjoying the last rays of sunshine peaking over the treetops, it overcame me.

The recipe I used is really simple, an old family favourite that I've changed again and again. Last time I made Wholewheat Raspberry breakfast muffins, but this time I needed different colours. Red is not the colour of summer, I needed yellow and orange and some golden brown.

So here it is, the recipe for Carrot and Apple End-of-Summer Muffins: 
dry ingredients:
1 cup plain flour
1/2 cup wholemeal flour
1/2 cup oats
2 tbsp. sunflower seeds
1 cup sugar
2 tsp. baking powder
1 tsp. baking soda
1 tsp. salt
cinnamon (liberal amounts for my muffins)
vanilla

wet ingredients:
2 eggs
3/4 cup oil
1/4 cup apple juice (makes it extra-juicy!)
2 cups diced apples (I used Braeburn, I love their tanginess in cakes)*
1 grated carrot

* I like large dices, its so lovely to sink your teeth into a soft, juicy piece of apple, you don't get that with small chunks.

Combine the wet and dry ingredients and then mix them together thoroughly. You can add 1 tbsp. of soda water - I find it makes the muffins a little bit fluffier - but do this at the very end. Fill the muffin tins and sprinkle a little cinnamon and a few oats on each muffin. Now you only need to wait for 20 - 25 minutes, until the muffins are golden brown (oven a 180°C). 

I love sitting in front of the oven and watching the dough rise. As the house fills with their warm smell and I am repeatedly asked when they are finally done, I watch them puff up and turn crispy around the edges. Needless to say I had four muffins for dinner.
The combination of the slightly sour apples with savoury carrots is heavenly and the oats and sunflower seeds added the right crunch to the muffins. They were just as good for breakfast the next day, even more juicy - my perfect end of summer/beginning of autumn muffins.

Love, x

"Like crazy" - a love story

Discovered this trailer today and was struck by the heartfelt beauty of it. Jacob falls in love with Anna, a British exchange student, but when she needs to leave the United States because of her visa, there love is put to the test. Trying to hold their relationship together across an ocean and two continents, they struggle with the pain of being apart. Will their love last?

This is definitely bookmarked, there is such great chemistry between these two leads.


http://trailers.apple.com/trailers/paramount_vantage/likecrazy/

Love, x

NOMAD TWO WORLDS exhibition

Today I had the pleasure of visiting the NOMAD TWO WORLDS exhibition with my friend V-.The photography, film and art exhibition was put together my Russell James, a talented Australian photographer, who has been working with Native American and Australian artists since the 1990s. It is meant as an attempt to bridge and understand the cultural divide in today's society, especially in Australia.

I arrived at the exhibition with my friend without high expectations, having only quickly looked at its website the night before. Situated in an old factory, the high ceilings and dim lighting leant an air of magic to the venue. The pictures, in contrast, were alive with bright colours of blue, red and orange. James and his fellow artists seem to share a love for photographing water, since there were several pictures shot from beneath the sea's surface, capturing a model swimming with dolphins. Every photograph had its own story and their themes were closely linked to the Aborgines' spiritual beliefs of spirits and the Dreaming.

The second part of the exhibition showed behind-the-scenes footage of James  photographing in Australia and the way the Aboriginal culture impacted his life. I remember him describing being ill throughout the journey, as he wasn't used to the calm and open way of life in Australia any more, since he had gotten used to New York's hectic ways.

This, I think, was also what moved us most about the exhibition. Working on the photographs, James had experienced a different way of life and a different way of seeing the cultural differences in his native country. The way he captures these feelings in his his photographs isnuniquely touching. There is such power and depth to his pictures that tugs at the heart.

It does not ofteh happen that a photograph has the power to truly flip the way one looks at life to the other side, but NOMAD TWO WORLDS made it happen for me.


Love, x

Why I started this blog

Now that I've stopped to think about it, I haven't actually explained why I'm doing this blog or why it's called My Box of Inspiration. A box is something I associate with treasure, like a chest of gold, something that you keep close to your heart. Everyone has a reason to keep moving forward in life, goals they want to achieve on that shadowy road lying ahead. Some wish to travel the world, others for the time to learn an instrument, and yet others for spiritual fulfillment.  Everyone has a different dream, and sometimes we discover different ones on the path that leads us there.

My goal in life is hard to put into words, it is the journey I am most interested in after all. I believe in seeing the beauty in the little things that inspire you to stay on that road. More than anything in the world, I love making things - food, jewellery, stories, poems, decorating, drawing ...
So this blog will be my personal box of inspiration right here.
And the first item I am placing inside it is:

 Have you ever dreamed of adventures in the Amazon Rainforest? I know I definitely have! This is the story of young orphan Maia, who journeys across the ocean from her home England to live with her relatives in Manaus. But her vision of a wonderfully exotic life is turned upside down when Maia meets the Carters and their twin daughters. Instead of greeting her with open arms, the twins are venemous, and Mr. and Mrs. Carter only interested in Maia's inheritance. Suddenly the lush green rainforest and the rushing river turn into a prison that isonly made bearable by Maia's governess Miss Minton and the kind Indian servants.
When Maia meets Finn, a mysterious boy who lives in the jungle, she discovers that life in the Amazon Rainforest, after all, is not a horrible as it may seem ...

I really, really adored this book when we read it for the first time in school. It's full of magic and love and Eva Ibbotson's wit and colourful descriptions really make the Amazon Rainforest come alive. Maia is a courageous and kind-heartedheroine, and the friends she makes throughout the novel are no less likeable.
Couldn't recommend this more! It proves that the greatest journey can also be made on the pages of a book.

Love, x

Strawberry summer moments.

Summer over here is slowly winding down, the rainy days are growing more frequent. Sometimes, walking through the busy streets on a summer night watching the city come alive feels so far away, almost as far as lying on my back in the sun, watching fluffy clouds shooting across the sky. And lifting my head to find that, yes, I am actually in a rowboat in the middle of a lake. And it's one of the best summer ... ever.

So I'll share with you one bit of food that to me encompasses all those summer moments: Devonshire scones with strawberry jam and clotted cream.