Friday, September 18, 2015


the last time i wrote in this space was over a year ago. 

and i started that post with these words: "the past month has been a blur. a beautiful, but blurry month."

well. this past year, has been vivid. 
bright colours. bold shapes. strong memories. 
it stands out. it calls out to me saying, "don't forget! you have grown! you are growing! you will keep growing!"
it has been an important year.
i feel like i learnt what i'm here for. 
i learnt my purpose. 
i found my place.

it has been a year of learning, of exploring, of fulfilment and of joy.
i have been on a year-long high of truly enjoying the work that my body does every day. i have revelled in the colours, shapes and patterns that vegetables embody, and i have cherished the quiet calm that comes from having my hands in the earth. 

i made a home for myself by the beach. 
i took advantage of the fresh, cooling ocean often. 
in the summer, i would regularly stop by the back beaches to throw myself into the waves and wash away the days' sweat. 
in the cooler months, i would still stop by the back beaches - i would watch the light and the waves, and observe their changes. 

i met beautiful people, who have become wonderful friends. 
i went on adventures and learnt the names of the native flora. 
i didn't postpone happiness, i lived it. 

i worked on a dream farm and spent my days learning from two of the gentlest souls who have taught me so so much. 

and so i wanted to take a moment to look back on it all - in all it's vivid beauty - and honour it. because it has been wonderful and amazing. and epic. 

but now it's a new season, and some new adventures call me forward..
over the next month i'll be moving my life to a new home. a home in a tent, in the woods, which will overlook a field of veggies - veggies that i'll be growing with my mate, erin. she has been working on her farm vision (and has been getting the soil ready!) for the past year and she generously has invited me along for the ride. 

i am so full of joy and excitement about what's to come. it will be challenging, rewarding, hilarious and full. full of simple living and beautiful food and satisfying hard work. 

i feel so many things about moving. 
i feel grateful for what's been, and i feel excited about what's to come. 

Saturday, August 2, 2014

open for trade

the past month has been a blur. a beautiful, but blurry month.

i've been saying farewell-for-now to my favourite sydney places and faces and packing up my life here to move down to the mornington peninsula. i'm excited and sad and happy and stressed, but mostly i'm grateful. i'm grateful for my life in sydney that is hard to say goodbye to, and i'm grateful for the opportunity i've been given, and everything that's to come down south.


i mentioned a couple of weeks ago that i'd be popping some beanies up on here with the idea that they could be traded* for other fun things, and so i'm kicking it off** right now with this fun one pictured above (on my multiple-heads...)

the yarn is 100% portuguese wool, handspun in Minho (Portugual) from the wool of the Bordaleira de Entre Douro e Minho sheep. it's a bulky, singly-ply yarn made by a talented group of women from the north of Portugal who have learnt the skills of spinning, weaving and knitting from their mothers and grandmothers and continue to keep these skills alive and flourishing. i saw a beautiful video of the women singing and crafting, and knew instantly that i wanted to make something beautiful and simple with their lovely yarn - you can check the video out here. i've knitted these up in a 2x2 rib, which means they've got a bit of stretch, so they can fit just about anyone (adult-sized head, that is...) and they'll be just right if you've got a big head/a lot of hair!

i have 5 of these snuggly beanies up for grabs (i'm keeping one for myself because i love it so much!), so if you'd like one, leave a message in the comments below with your email address and i'll get in touch with you to organise a little trade! i'm happy to ship anywhere in the world, as long as you're happy to send something to me in australia.


* not sure what to trade? don't worry, there aren't any rules! i reckon we all have something lovely to offer - it could be handmade, or just something sweet and thoughtful. let's email and have a chat :)

** more beanies to come over the next few weeks - including some hand-dyed pieces as well. can read more about the lovely Portuguese ladies who have handspun the wool pictured above here.

Thursday, July 17, 2014

intuitive dyeing

a couple of weeks ago i drove from the mornington peninsula to sydney. i took my favourite route - the slightly longer, but incredibly beautiful road along the coast. i stopped off at a couple of lovely places along the way, and it took me a few days.

i listened to the same diane cluck album the entire way.

and it's not even a very long album. 40 minutes maybe? and the drive all up was probably about 14 hours... but every word, every note was so in tune with how i was feeling.

she describes her music as 'intuitive folk'. i kept thinking about that as i listened to her and sang along with her in my car.

i thought about the things that i do and why i do them. i thought about what i base my choices on - logic, reason, gut feeling? intuition?

and i started to realise that intuition is what i seem to be following the most when it comes to my dyeing these days. it's the voice inside me that says "give that plant a try", "try the branches as well as the leaves", "turn the heat down a little", "leave it in the pot a little longer".... if i let myself be still and quiet, this intuitive voice sings clearly - encouraging me to try new things and experiment.

having said that, there are definitely parts of the dyeing process that are logical and methodical - that are tried and true and that i tend to follow as a rough guide. but there is also a lot of space for experimentation - for play and exploration. and that's where the magic of plant dyeing happens!


i've also been thinking about what direction to take my dyeing in. and i've been trying to listen to that intuitive voice to find the right way forward.

and so while i thought i would be putting some naturally dyed hand-knitted items up for sale online this winter, i've decided to take a step back from that and try something else instead.

next week i'll post up some pictures of hand knitted beanies that i've been making this past autumn. some are hand-dyed by me and some are un-dyed and retain their beautiful natural animal colours. handmade items can be tricky to put a price on, so i'm not going to. instead, i'd like to propose a little trade.* maybe you're a crafter too and have just made another rad pair of earrings that you don't need, or maybe you're a ceramicist or a poet or some other wonderful thing! i reckon we all have a lot of good stuff to offer.

so if you fancy one of the beanies, or if you think it'd make the perfect gift for a loved one, then you'll be able to leave a comment and suggest a trade.

we can talk, and connect and then gift each other a little something, whaddaya reckon?!


i guess i'm still trying to figure out what i want my contribution to be. so this is step one - listening to my intuition and seeing what happens.

*inspired by this barnacle bags post i read a while back, and the general awesomeness of the grown & gathered flower exchange

Tuesday, July 15, 2014

transition // farm

oh golly, i'm just buzzing these days.
i'm on a hooray-i-have-a-sense-of-purpose-and-i-feel-like-i've-found-my-passion high.
it's pretty nice.


this blog post has been floating around inside me for a little while now. it's been hard to pin down and type down and make sense of because there's just so many pieces to it.

so i might just try and identify them bit by bit, and hopefully they find some shape and form along the way.

here's what happened:

a few months ago i went to work at a farm.

nope, it all started before that.

a few years ago, i buried my mother.

then a couple later, i buried my father.

both died from cancer. one was a shock, the other was shocking. i wanted to talk about it. then i didn't want to talk about it. rinse and repeat. i've been trying to heal and find myself ever since.

i became an island. or more of an island than i already was.

i thought frequently about the pointlessness of connection and relationships, since they are all destined to split apart or fracture from death or disease or disinterest (i was feeling pretty dramatic).. and then i thought even harder about the total importance of connection and relationships, for the same reasons.

and i felt lost. which isn't strange. don't we all feel lost sometimes?

i dithered and wavered about what my livelihood and love and purpose would be based on. i veered away from what i had studied at university. i started creating and finding purpose in collections of stitches and the clicking of needles and i became a crafter. i became obsessed with the completion of things because it reminded me that everything in our lives is created by our minds and our ideas and our hands. and it gave me a sense of control over things.

and then i remembered that before things became bleak, i had wanted to grow things. i had wanted to tend to something - to create something that could nourish and feed me. heal me. feed others. heal others.

everything i had learned at university had actually pushed me in that direction and towards that field. i had started my studies with the desire to save the world, and at the end of it, i just wanted to do as little harm as possible! i wanted to use my hands and my heart and my mind and just do good things. i realised that food was important. i realised that the way we grow food is crazy important. and somehow, i wanted to be apart of that process.

and so i looked for farmers doing good things.

i found a farm on the mornington peninsula doing amazing things.

i met them, and agreed to come and work for them for a few months. i would work for free and they would feed me and give me a place to stay and they would teach me.

i arrived at their farm full of hope.

three months later, i left full of gratitude.


i remember meeting a beautiful girl named sophie about 5 years ago in ecuador. she had been travelling with her boyfriend, but then they had broken up, so she decided to go to a hostel in the middle of nowhere - a place in the mountains where i was working. she arrived during a quiet period and there was no one else staying at the hostel, so she and i spent a lot of time sitting by the fire with cups of tea and good conversation. we spoke a lot about lovers and the space they can hold in our lives. and we spoke a lot about our own passions, and the things that push us on and sustain us when there is no one else around to hold our hands. about encouragement being a responsibility we have to ourselves.

she told me of a book she had read - about tuning in to your passions and figuring out what your ideals and ethics are, as a way of discovering direction and purpose in your life. i remember thinking that i should track down that book, but i never did. and i have thought from time to time that i should contact sophie and ask her what the heck that book was called, but i never did that either.

instead, i came to this small little farm on the victorian coast and figured it out for myself. my body was made to farm. my hands were made to farm. my mind was made to farm. and everything else in my life is still important and worthwhile and wonderful, but this - this planting of seeds and harvesting of beets - this is what will see me through my days. this will be my hand to hold.

and isn't it nice to feel that sense of place?! and it's not really about the location,  although the peninsula is pretty beautiful. and it's not necessarily about the people, although they are some of the best people i've ever met. this sense of place has to do with me - being ready and present and in the right place with myself.


there's this lovely song by wilco. it's called reservations, and i've always been drawn to it. there's this line, and it slips into my head from time to time and it always leaves me feeling so strange and undone and raw. because somehow, it manages to console me and haunt me, with just a few words.

i've got reservations,
about so many things
but not about you.

that's me - that's it.
i waver - about a lot of things. i worry, and i doubt and i wonder.
i'm hopeless at making decisions, even when the answer seems clear and obvious and important.
i get anxious that saying 'yes' to something, means saying 'no' to another.

i think i've had a hope that i would get to a point, or be in a situation where that doubt would slip away. even if it was just about one thing. i wouldn't mind all my other worries or concerns or reservations - because there would be something or someone to steady my path. something or someone that i would be so sure of.

and it feels like this is it - that the 'you' in the song is maybe me?
suddenly, i'm not doubting myself so much anymore.

there are still so many things i'm confused about. i'm sure there always will be. but i get what i'm about now. i get who i am and what i need to do to be happy. i am made to make things and grow things. and that's enough.


and so these days i am buzzing. i feel electric and present because i am sure.
it's nice. it's so nice.


Saturday, April 12, 2014


A few images from a rainy weekend in early autumn. We drove to the mountains to forage for blackberries and pine mushrooms, and came home with jars of delicious jam and bellies full of good food.

*the beanies you see in these photos will be for sale soon... just in time for winter :)
In the first couple of photos my buddy Holly is wearing a squishy handspun alpaca hat; made from fibre produced in Cooma, NSW. And in the last few photos that's me (!) wearing one of my favourites - a chunky hat made from handspun Portuguese wool. I feel like such a farmer every time I wear that hat! More on that in my next post....


Tuesday, March 11, 2014

the cooler months

I love this time of year.

Cups of tea, rainy nights, woolly jumpers :)

It's not really cold yet i know, but summer is over (and what a lovely adventurous summer it was!) and the cold months are ahead.... which for me means: lots more knitting, hurrah!

Don't get me wrong, I'm ridiculously obsessed, and I knit all year round. But autumn/winter knitting is extra wonderful! Being snuggled up in an armchair and knitting in the evening is such a great way to unwind at the end of the day.

...are you a knitter too? I've finally gotten around to putting up some pictures of some things I've made up on ravelry*, and I can't wait to make thisthis and this in the next few months :)

* you'll need to be a member to check it out - you can sign up on the homepage!

Friday, February 21, 2014


tilba, nsw.

our conversation in the car as we drove through this town sounded a bit like this:

"f^#&! this place is so cute!"

"s@%*! cuuuuute!"

"oh man, so cute."

...ok, ok. it was mostly me saying all those things.

Friday, January 24, 2014



a feeling of discontented* or resentful longing aroused by someone else's epic camping set-up.

...see also: tentvious (adj.)

*hehe, disconTENTed

Tuesday, January 14, 2014

double take

christmas in the mountains.


navidad en las montañas.

Wednesday, January 8, 2014


Last week, some friends and I took a drive down south to Mystery Bay for a few days of camping, swimming, fishing and lazing about. Sunny days filled with great people, amazing food and splashing in the surf was the perfect way to ring in the new year :)

...also, this was the first time I've ever gone fishing with a rod! Who knew standing for hours in cold water* could be so much fun?!

*nope, we didn't catch anything :(