fade into green

Spring rain
conveyed under the trees
in drops.

Matsuo Basho (1644-1694)

Spring in the Valley has been wet and slow to unfold, full of a few unseasonably hot days followed by miserable, cold and damp rainy ones. but with the rainfall has come the most incredible lush green. everywhere. first with the spring flush, and then suddenly in full bloom, the fields and woods thick with green and wet with the heavy after scent of rain.

last weekend we explored a local old growth maple/beech/hemlock forest. as we walked in the rain, the entire forest was brimming with life and was saturated with stunning shades of green. we fished for hours in the nearby pond and it too was enveloped by moody greens, mixed with the sobering grey of the sky and water.

and then there is the early morning mist and the mud. Andrew spent the past few weeks tree planting, and this week was particularly miserable, muddy, and wet, exposing a rugged, harsh, and honest landscape that never fails to take my breath away.

handmade harvest

this past weekend i participated in the Spring edition of Handmade Harvest at the Almonte Agricultural Hall in the lovely town of Almonte, not far outside of Ottawa. it was a perfectly rustic, historical venue and a well-curated show, featuring a wonderful range of artisans and crafters. i couldn't imagine a more supportive, down-to-earth environment for my first show. i had an amazing time meeting fellow vendors and handmade enthusiasts, catching up with old friends, and making new connections (and eating a few delectable treats!). i also want to extend a BIG thank you to Emily & Colleen, the wonderful ladies who put on the show—they have some mad organizational skills and are truly invested in what they do, which is a huge part of what made the day so successful. oh, and Almonte? i think i love you. 

Andrew spent most of the day with Scout, our new Chesapeake Bay Retriever puppy, who we brought with us to the show. it was a beautiful, hot, summer-like day, so luckily the venue was on a gorgeous river where Scout could cool down in the water. it was his first time swimming in deep water—a proud moment that i sadly missed, but that Andrew candidly captured in a series of photos. they're so sweet i couldn't resist sharing. he's a little charmer, and expresses the spirit of the day perfectly. 

next month, i will be selling my wares at Urban Craft in Ottawa, so if you're in or around the city you can look for me there. the lineup of vendors is nothing short of AMAZING—i am delighted to be included among them and look forward to the show!

pink moon

late last night, after midnight, i happened upon a perfect view of the full pink moon. first through the budding branches of the trees, and then in the open sky, cloaked by an illuminated veil of clouds. i lost myself in its lyrical beauty for awhile, alone in the sweet fresh air of a quiet spring night. 

spring equinox // double exposure

today is the Spring Equinox, that fateful day filled with equal hours of light and darkness, where day and night are held in perfect balance. more than the "first day of spring," it is a moment of pause followed by what is perhaps the most cherished seasonal shift for those who live in the North; a promise that budding growth and long, sun-filled days will emerge from beneath the frozen landscape—even if not precisely on this seemingly arbitrary day. while it snowed most of the day here, the light seemed almost tireless, uplifting. for me, that's what today signals most: the coming of light, the reassurance that soon the light will outlast the darkness and we will be able to emerge from hibernation and shed our heavy layers. captivated by this promise, the feeling i had today was one of dissolving into nature, of dreamy double exposures, subtle florals, and soft, enchanting light. 

photo sources: one / two / three / four / five / six / seven / eight / nine / ten / eleven / twelve

wearable porcelain: by loumi

it’s been a long while since i’ve written a wearable porcelain post, since i’ve been inspired by an artist who works in that most favourite and long-cherished medium. so when i first stumbled upon the new Etsy shop, By Loumi, last month, my heart nearly skipped a beat. based in France, designer Kahina Loumi's work is naturally romantic, sweetly charming, and stunning in its simplicity—the kind that takes your breath away. the combination of unglazed white porcelain + matte gold that characterizes her current collection is quite possibly perfection. individually handcrafted in her studio, each piece incorporates her experience as a visual artist and is its own timeless work of art.

for a view into Kahina's studio and to read more about her work (en français), check out her featured shop interview on Etsy's french blog. you can also follow her design process and inspiration on her blog, Loumi Studio.

✚ all photos courtesy of By Loumi

taking time

i have been somewhat of a ghost around here lately, i know. the transition into the new year was a difficult and emotional one for our little family as we endured a significant loss. time stopped for awhile. everything became quiet and still as we took the time that we needed and allowed ourselves to grieve, wrapped up in a world away from here. 

i have also been hard at work on a number of projects, keeping them mostly to myself during this time of solitude and repose. but i am happy to announce that BIG changes are coming to this ever-evolving space as part of a larger re-branding project. i feel good about where it's headed; where i'm headed. it feels much more 'me.'

here is a little peek.

until it is time, 

sara

p.s. Jane's thoughtful post came at the perfect time for me as i was wrestling with my own emotional terrain and when and how to return to this space in a way that felt right, that felt honest. hopefully you will find something in it, or take something out of it, too.

winter reflections + tidings

since moving to a country environment, i have started to track the seasons in a way i never have before, even though growing up in the North i have always felt so intimately connected to, and affected by, their ebbs & flows. while i have always been detail-oriented, taking notice of the little things that often go overlooked, the past year has changed me. out here, away from the noise of the city, i have learned to slow down. to pause in the middle of the woods and simply listen, taking in my surroundings with every breath and sense in my body; to take a break from my research and writing and wander outside simply to stand in the middle of a snowfall, feeling the cold, soft flakes on the skin of my face as i look up—and not only once in awhile, but regularly, at every opportunity. slowing down and taking pause is something i deeply respect about winter, even in its turbulence when it snows us in, stranding or preventing us form going anywhere. it is a season capable of teaching us how to take small steps towards a slower, more thoughtful and meaningful life.

since the first snow last month, winter has started and stopped countless times, moving from cold temperatures back to warm ones before plunging once again into deep cold; from light snow barely dusting the ground to heavy snowfalls, rain, freezing rain, hail, and still more snow, creating sheets of ice and hardening the earth—what have become the frenzied characteristics of a bipolar Canadian winter. but in whatever form, winter is here (to stay) and i welcome it. just this morning we woke up to a fresh blanket of snow, renewing the winter landscape and prompting me to go outside and, as contrived as it might sound, take in the fresh beauty. to take a wonderful little moment to myself. 

while i know i will grow tired of the cold in the coming months, the magic has only just begun, making me feel like i am experiencing winter again for the first time. the startling, frigid beauty contained in the smallest of details: a delicate snowflake, soft snow adorning the branches of pine and spruce, a frozen bud or needle closed in on itself, frosted treetops, an icicle frozen in time like a distant memory, jack frost quivering on windowpanes, frost-covered eyelashes and beards, gently falling snow that seems to hang, unmoving in the air; the way that snow changes the light, producing a field of colours and the most amazing range of whites and greys in what at first seems to be a barren, colourless landscape.

and so maybe my photos are overdone or seem a little tiresome, but they celebrate something simple and yet monumental, something dear to those who live here: a still & quiet beauty, a wonder contained deep within the winter landscape, but that also shimmers so visibly across its surface as it reaches out with open arms. there is a strange comfort in winter, as if it wraps us up and gives us permission to slow down, even if only for a short while.

for those of you dreaming of a white Christmas, i suppose this glimpse into a winter wonderland is my humble gift to you. a gift of beauty & wonder as we nestle in to celebrate the holiday season with the ones we love. as we try to slow down.

i also want to take a moment to thank you for visiting my blog this past year, for sticking around and engaging with its original content as i have worked hard to construct something thoughtful and meaningful. i have been reflecting a lot on blogging and my relationship to it lately, on what i want this space to look like and where i fit into an evolving blogging culture.


to that end, i want to leave you with a few wonderful and evocative posts from writers whom I admire and respect on blogging meaningful. on producing more carefully curated and thoughtful posts that celebrate process and writing, and on building small, meaningful relationships based on respect and a willingness to accept constructive criticism:

✚ Erin of Design For Mankind's post on "slow blogging," with an emphasis on research, thoughtfulness, storytelling, and writing, on crafting a culture of blogging based on less rather than more. i am happy to see a commitment to this approach from a prominent blogger.

✚ Jane's thoughtful reflections on how we support each other in the blogworld, in which she criticizes the notion of "automatic support" and outlines the consequences of giving our support uncritically and too readily, proposing a new model of support that aims to be more meaningful.

✚ Hila's "Lesson's Learnt," a reflection on her experience of blogging in which she challenges the notion of an all-encompassing blogging community and revisits her thoughts about how little writing is valued in the indie blogging community since she wrote this landmark post together with Jane earlier this year.

wishing you love & warmth, and tidings of comfort & joy.

xo, 

sara

all photos are my own, taken with iPhone 4 and edited primarily with VSCO Cam.