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the moon, like to a silver bow.
15 November 2009 @ 07:57 pm







Inside the dollhouse
a world betwixt worlds where
nothing is quite shadowed or ashen and
surroundings seem distorted, ghostly and out of focus
time does not move in this universe
the golden clock hand remains on two o’ clock
enchanted time
pale girls with lithe limbs wandering
like frail children
clutching china dolls to their chest
red roses in their hair and dusky kohl lined eyes
to make them feel braver and beautiful
spectres drift by when a locked door is opened and
the dolls watch with expectant orb like eyes
their faces are candle flames flickering in the darkness
gradually becoming transparent.

 
 
the moon, like to a silver bow.
02 November 2009 @ 06:39 pm






 )



















xxx
 
 
the moon, like to a silver bow.
22 September 2009 @ 09:08 pm









there is a place in the woods where the trees are a tangled chaos of roots, and eyes watch you from the undergrowth, one of the elders is home to the entranced children that have wandered afar from the swan lake, the rooks in the branches peer at you with onyx eyes and their caws echo through the bleak hallway of leaves.


 )
 
 
the moon, like to a silver bow.
06 July 2009 @ 09:10 pm











I had a dream that I was lost in a library; it had spiral staircases and tiny ladders with goblins wearing spectacles, they were dusting the highest shelves. I sat in a big red velvet armchair reading every book that I could find about myths and tales, until the guard told me that it was closing time, “don’t you have a home to go to miss?”, I yawned sleepily and glanced at the big grandfather clock, it was two minutes to ten.
I am not a believer in hope but it sometimes comes in wisps and strays, I am going to begin a pebble jar, just like Stargirl, and maybe one day it will become full of mermaid tear pebbles.

I want to see Paris lit up at night time, sit with my sketchbook in the Musée du Louvre, and take photographs of the Eiffel Tower, see Peter Pan in Kensington Gardens, dance under the moon and constellations at Stonehenge, stay up all night at a music festival in a far away country, sing in a band, but I think I am much too shy, and there is no room in his band for a girl, leave sweet words for strangers sat on lonely park benches, go and see the The Nutcracker and take ballet lessons too, I used to dance when I was five, I think most little girls did, and Swan Lake and La Bayadère at the Royal Opera House, I think I would cry over how beautiful they both are, find an old music box and suitcases, and my very own Pan god, I will be your nymph, I promise.
Visit Glastonbury with its pretty bookshops, and abbey and gardens, make my hair the colour of the palest moons, kiss boys with smudged eye liner and tattoos and muscled arms, and buy that copy of East of the Sun, West of the Moon, with illustrations by Kay Nielsen, that I have always wanted, and my best friend and I will travel to London in September and dress as Viking girls for the band, and look around art universities. I want to take the bus to Portobello road and buy vintage black lace and antique books, and this year I will move away from home, share a tiny house with a few girls or boys, and we will have so many lovely days, and if we feel sad, we will watch Picnic at Hanging Rock, Girl, Interrupted and the Virgin Suicides, and old horror films too, we can hide our hearts for just one day, and tomorrow when the sun wakes up I will go for a walk with my camera on the lonely five a m roads.

 
 
the moon, like to a silver bow.
30 June 2009 @ 03:51 pm












 )
 
 
the moon, like to a silver bow.
08 May 2009 @ 08:49 pm















Today is flora day, a celebration of light, fertility and life, I wanted to go and dance in the streets but ma was a little too busy to take me, so I bought flowers, wore a long dress and sat in the garden amongst the daisies, listening to the birds.
We found an abandoned magpie nest, it really had been discarded, but it is so beautiful, I think I will make an installation, cover it with tiny lights, and flowers, before the wind takes it away.


 )
 
 
the moon, like to a silver bow.
22 March 2009 @ 08:41 pm













I am free, a hummingbird, delicate and iridescent. Spring makes me feel happier, watching the world become whole again, alive. Daffodils, and irises and daisies, reading books in the long grass.


 )
 
 
the moon, like to a silver bow.
14 February 2009 @ 06:48 pm







To all of the tiny hearts in this world [look after them].


 )
 
 
the moon, like to a silver bow.
07 February 2009 @ 10:42 pm







A faraway narnian land.


 )


Julian and I went on a long bus ride to the seaside today, I wanted to collect shells from the shore to send with my letters, but the tide was in too far. The waves were washing foam and tangled seaweed on to the cobbled streets. It was so quiet, and cold, there are many sweet shops and cafe's and seafood restaurants, toy shops and art galleries and shops selling handmade purses, flowers and cards.
A ghostly curse fell over the fishing town, I am going to write a story about this. The mermaid from the pier bestowed a curse upon the town in the bleak winter months.

 
 
the moon, like to a silver bow.
23 January 2009 @ 09:06 pm









[i have missed you]


 )
 
 
 
 

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