Love

Warm summer nights. The smell of jasmine thick on the night air through my bedroom windows. The stars glittering through my venetian blinds. Impressionism of all kinds–art, music, literature. Virgina Woolf’s “To The Lighthouse”. Satie – the most gentle music ever. Boubacar Traoré – Mali musical magic. Vivifying intellectual conversations on the back patio with a supra-intelligent male friend about literature and Pink Floyd, with the trickle of pond water in the background. Apple cider on hot afternoons. Erté. Drawing/doodling/fooling with watercolours. Peridot and citrine. Bending wire into beautiful jewellery. The bedroom fan. My antique-lace-looking thin scarf. Turquoise. Stephanie Dowrick. Dreams of pale lemon-yellow cats and white poodles. The Bleeding Heart Vine on my patio. Frogs of all sizes and vocal abilities. Writing stationery. Cupcakes. The rhythm of knitting and crocheting. Beads and sparkly things. Oyster Bay champagne. Loungeroom Cinematheque nights. Maxi dresses. The plop of raindrops on the elephant ears. McGackle birds. Giving gifts.