{From the garden.}
The early afternoon was one of those bright and quiet sunny afternoons, one where all feels right. Before I walked into scene, it was as though it had been tipped up, shuffled and in the upside-down tumble of it all, placed back down, ready and waiting for me. And seemingly glazed in honey.
I had walked home for the main and by chance stopped by a bookstore to purchase a second-hand copy of Stevie Smith’s collected poems and prose. As I passed by the store window, its yellow cover and the name on the cover had drawn me to it. A second glance over the shoulder and yes! There she has found gold. Once inside, I spied on the wall hanging behind the counter a beautifully framed copy of Louise and my collaborative piece made especially for Amy’s Baker’s Dozen. It is always gladdening to see where one’s work ends up, to know it is being enjoyed. The unexpected thrill of the find added to the sensation all the more.
Book tucked safely inside my bag with its receipt, I had set stride for home. Home, that is, via the ever-tempting Clara Fox, a jewellery box life-size if ever there was. Inside, amidst the display of hatpins and gold filigree earrings and silvered brooches in the shape of leaves I spotted a charming white bracelet. French enamel, it is dotted with tiny red and blue flowers and it is still now on my wrist and meant to be.
Home I seemed to skip with two surprise purchases, one on my person and one in my grey satchel. A shopper’s high. Yes, I think that is what the call it. Rightly so, too.
+ It could be..., a new collaborative piece.
+ It could be..., a new collaborative piece.
