Hello there, from the side of a mountain in North Wales

I count my blessings every day that I have been given the opportunity to travel and meet wonderful people and incredible places across the globe, but I need time to just be at home otherwise I can feel that I am losing myself. Time to sit and stare out of the window, wrapping my fingers around a perfect mug of coffee, accepting that the garden has turned slightly feral in my absence but left to her own devices has actually made some rather beautiful design choices is time well spent.

Flower pickings are slim this time of year. It will be the end of April before I can really go for a waft in the garden again and pick a handful of Tulips for a Spring display. So, I have to be content with a muddy squelch instead. It forces me to look harder though. There is always something to be found. A seedhead glistening in the frost like an uncut diamond. A single rose bloom who got her timings all muddled up, putting on her finery and best frock just as a warm Autumn turned arctic. But it also means I have time to rediscover those flowers I pressed between thick watercolour paper in summer or the Spring flowers that were left to dry out in my studio now like tissue paper, their colour and form held in a diaphanous pause.

Society encourages and tempts us to move at lightning speed. Concentration spans that have been shaped and tempered by AI demand instant gratification. No long introductions are needed. No slow overtures, get to the point within a nanosecond or you’ve lost your audience. I can move fast (usually last call for a flight) but when I’m home I want to pause awhile and gather my thoughts. Take a breath and enjoy a well-told story with a long overture and incredible finale. A story that takes my imagination to another world. Away from the general hullabaloo, my remote soul takes a moment to relive those wonderful but all too transient moments from the year. They reignite my imagination and creative spirit for the next.