tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-76636369001623751882012-01-29T17:11:55.333+13:00"We seek the absolute everywhere, and only ever find things." Novalisana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.comBlogger4171100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-37315599540915096492012-01-23T22:22:00.000+13:002012-01-23T23:05:25.773+13:00

Maybe one day you'll be here too. We'll load up a car or a campervan with big, old quilts, sunscreen, cameras and film. The chilly bin will be packed full of home brew, strawberries, cherries, and ice coffee. The days will be so long and the sunsets so showy and the nights so sparkly with stars that you'll think you've landed in some idyllic pastoral painting from the Renaissance and all you

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-34249800573164912102012-01-08T00:36:00.000+13:002012-01-08T00:59:32.511+13:00

The place where you live is empty. You're alone. You just loaded the dishwasher and it's humming in the living room downstairs. The windows in your room are wide open and in the distance, a car alarm screeches then suddenly stops. This chair and you have a date. It's your fate for this afternoon. Anchoring you there is this book. And together you float. And you drift, and you murmur,

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-25358475150141323662011-12-24T20:01:00.000+13:002011-12-25T10:06:04.580+13:00

There's something cold about the internet. Peering into a light source, tapping into keys, half your attention on the tv or a text message or something out the window. In the lead up to Christmas, I've received so many wonderful things. But you know what I loved the most? Your words. Scrawled on a bit of paper, telling me your thoughts, your handwriting travelling across the page in loops and

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-38246083543326088782011-12-11T21:47:00.001+13:002011-12-11T22:09:47.858+13:00

The bag below comes from a thrift shop in Vienna. I dragged my friend round various metro stations and through broad, sleepy, leafy avenues on a brilliantly sunny day. Not knowing what to expect of Viennese thrift shops, instead of the kooky, poky little shop I'd imagined, we wandered into what was basically a warehouse full of stuff with trucks beeping and reversing and a distant horizon made

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-55738318034993139562011-12-04T11:44:00.001+13:002011-12-04T21:41:33.454+13:00

We had such a big earthquake in Wellington yesterday. Living here, you get used to the ground shuddering underneath your feet but yesterday, it wasn't so much a shudder but a huge jolt. It sounded like thunder cracking, followed by the clatter of things falling off the shelves downstairs. We crouched under a too-small table, clutching hands, eyes wide. When the shaking finished, the first

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-89032244103900642392011-11-26T22:07:00.001+13:002011-11-27T11:58:45.320+13:00

This is what I want for Christmas. I want blushing peonies streaked with red and pink, sponge cake with cream and strawberries and chocolate buttercream icing, lots of sun and laughter and ridiculous Secret Santa presents. But most of all, I want you to make an extra effort to look after each other, and I swear I will too. With uncertainty and struggle on a global scale, it gets easier and

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-86229459201568956612011-11-12T20:17:00.001+13:002011-12-06T21:11:58.172+13:00

My days and nights have been filled with flowers, Eiffel-tower shaped pasta, soap that looks like slices of cake, bagels and blueberries and nights at the ballet. The coming of summer always feels like a big upward curve in nice things and events to look forward to. The sun is so rare in Wellington. When it comes, the entire town floods out, promenading along the waterfront, queuing for gelato,

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-22149071893440347782011-11-04T13:02:00.004+13:002011-11-04T13:02:46.540+13:00

Frank Sinatra's in my head. And I don't know why. Let's fly, let's fly away. Maybe it's because the days are so much longer now. If you can use some exotic booze... And in the mornings there's strips of light on the floor, spilling onto the sofa, and reflecting off the mirrors. There's a bar in far Bombay. It was a lot of summer firsts since we last talked. Just say the words and we'll beat the

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-50520859297243151792011-10-23T12:13:00.000+13:002011-12-06T21:12:11.276+13:00

I'm having trouble thinking about what to say to you. I asked someone what I should say and the suggestion was Why don't you write about how this cherry blossom path is hidden away so well that when you found it, you felt like it was just for you? Astounded, that's exactly what I've come here to tell you. Sometimes it's good having someone who knows you so well, they can pretty much write this

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-55913472894934905752011-10-09T18:22:00.000+13:002011-10-09T19:56:31.342+13:00

Since the last time we talked, I've started taking French classes, bought a cotton sundress with a narrow red belt, started a collection of odd shaped jars for spring flowers, and squeaked with delight when a row of fuschia flowers blossomed like a tiara on my cactus. Et toi?

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-50189084125340729662011-09-17T12:46:00.001+12:002011-09-17T12:46:48.335+12:00

I think about the person who owned this book, years- maybe decades, before it came to me.  She dreamt of Edwardian cotton dresses with lace trims and grosgrain ribbons in her hair.  Maybe she would have loved Picnic at Hanging Rock if she were around to have seen the movie... On the walls of her room, pictures of the Cottingley Fairies would be stuck up, not one of them

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-61486082288603007322011-09-11T21:13:00.000+12:002011-09-11T21:13:57.890+12:00

I read somewhere once that being an adult was all about dirt. It meant plunging your hands into a variety of disgusting holes, drains, pipes, and crevices to fish out fetid, horrible, drippy things. We're talking about clogged drains, clumps of hair, bin juice, and the mystery lumps of food that block your kitchen sink. Being an adult meant facing those things.  More and more people

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-48306831806034232412011-09-07T17:32:00.001+12:002011-09-07T17:32:27.512+12:00

It took Dan a year and a half to ask Jenna out after they first kissed on New Years Eve. Earlier this year during a romantic weekend away, Dan proposed and Jenna said yes. They're both kids from the country who've ended up living in the city. She loves dogs and cute dresses and has a bad habit of opening up rows and rows of endless tabs on her browser. He's a chef at a busy local cafe and

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-15275219109203132852011-08-27T21:13:00.000+12:002011-08-27T21:13:39.866+12:00

I'm thinking of a life without things; or at the very least, without clutter. Oliver Burkeman, a columnist from The Guardian, recently wrote about getting rid of memory boxes, and how the time and thought spent collecting souvenirs of life is disproportionate to the amount of time spent revisiting those memories. I've written previously about the bleakness I find with according so much

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-40497710056567596882011-08-17T23:34:00.001+12:002011-08-17T23:54:17.064+12:00

There's something heavy sitting at the bottom of my stomach. It aches and aches and aches. It feels like a cavern which only wants more and more and more. Whether it's the newest pair of shoes or the stack of pancakes five minutes before brunch service ends or a person who entrances and delights you so much so that you want to trap them in some kind of giant bell jar. This heaviness won't be

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-32338174430682819322011-08-14T13:09:00.002+12:002011-08-14T23:41:33.426+12:00

I watched Lars von Trier's Melancholia in an overheated movie theatre with my jacket wrapped around my knees. I'd gobbled up my fig and honey ice cream fifteen minutes before the movie even started and was left to stare jealously at everyone else lapping away at theirs (two scoops of cookies & cream, chocolate- dipped black doris plum and creme fraiche, plain one scoop chocolate). My neck

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-43133110985845530672011-08-06T19:39:00.000+12:002011-08-06T19:39:06.494+12:00

Truth? What we have in common is the past, not the present or the future. We've built a fort made up of giggles, slippery sleeping bags, and loud music blaring from my stereo. While it is not modern or very relevant or even a dynamic I truly understand, what we have are photo albums from the days when people still took time to print and paste and collate their memories in a book. Others say

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com24tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-8164385450543006472011-07-24T12:38:00.000+12:002011-07-24T12:38:18.660+12:00

July smelt strong coffee, rising damp and cold rain hitting newly laid tarmac. He tasted crunchy frost on heavy wool coats, the air of relief when people plunged into warm rooms, and discontent; yes, the discontent was palpable. December and January never had this sort of thing to deal with in this upside down part of the world. When the sun was out, people tended to feel a lot better. But for

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com30tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-5496680801144736942011-07-17T10:28:00.000+12:002011-07-17T10:28:16.220+12:00

I'm in awe of a lot of you. When publishers won't publish your books, you make your own publishing company. When quarter life crisis sets in, you give up profitable but predictable jobs to enrol in English language film photography classes in Florence or live hand-to-mouth in Parisian apartments. In short, you make wrestling with life look - if not, easy - then, malleable, soft, and yielding.

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-31072741910625115792011-07-10T19:54:00.003+12:002011-07-10T21:31:34.563+12:00

This is for you. You don't need your friends, your boy, your husband, your kids, or your mum and dad. Here's the equation. Money for a plane ticket to the places of your choice + Free time + You = the world. Don't be afraid. Here's what I've learnt: Travel in summer. Daytime hours are longer for sightseeing and dinners out. I travelled around Italy and France in winter and it was beautiful but

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-34883703109846791982011-07-03T19:57:00.000+12:002011-07-03T19:57:08.091+12:00

I took a bus along the Romantic Road to see two fairytale castles; one, built as a mini-tribute to Versailles, the other a medieval-styled behemoth which inspired the Disney logo. The sad thing is, these castles are dreams come true, but they were built by a King whose life was far from "happy ever after" as you can imagine. My trip ends here but I've still got a fistful of Polaroids and film

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-4369146681971428342011-07-01T07:39:00.003+12:002011-07-01T12:17:06.989+12:00

This may be maudlin but for me, Salzburg was a place full of memories struggling not to be forgotten. They crowd around its streets and bridges begging on corners with their hats out, busking in squares for attention, and haunting the cliffs waving at you as you walk past. Mozart's birth house competes for visitors with H&M and Mango right next door holding their mid-summer sale. The Mirabell

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-77508184501629039112011-06-27T19:57:00.002+12:002011-06-27T22:10:39.479+12:00

In Budapest, you will get to the synagogue five minutes past closing time and the guard with the gun will tell you, in no uncertain words, you are not allowed. At the Gellert baths, to have the privilege of bathing under an art noveau dome, you first have to get hopelessly lost in a rabbit-warren of dark, tiled corridors with no signs. The heat will be inescapable on Castle Hill, bouncing off

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-45709020074648368492011-06-20T07:36:00.001+12:002011-06-20T07:39:36.868+12:00

10.30 am on a Monday, I wondered why people weren't working. The entire town seemed to be lounging on the sidewalks along the Llubljanic river drinking cappuccinos and petting their dogs.  In Llubljana, there's no major attraction, no "must-see", no classic postcard images. Only a river bordered by swishing trees and lilies, differently-themed bridges (from the antique to the modern Butcher's

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-87865392712175044522011-06-14T09:30:00.001+12:002011-06-14T09:31:54.019+12:00

We were leaving Zagreb on a train to Llubljana, Slovenia. Our taxi driver was unimpressed. For him, Bled was just a "muddy lake" compared to the Adriatic. "If it were me," he continued, "the only thing I would see in Slovenia is the caves!" I was finding it difficult to leave Croatia. Perhaps if you live in a country as vibrant and stunning as the Croatia I've seen, the rest of the world may

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com13City of Zagreb, Croatia45.814912 15.9785144999999645.637112 15.74495799999996 45.992712 16.21207099999996tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-17947877706412183982011-06-11T10:05:00.001+12:002011-06-11T10:08:05.850+12:00

I've seen a few places. But none like this. Split is like the most beautiful, captivating, inspiring woman you know. She is stunning; so stunning that she is like cool, dappled shade on a scorching hot summer day. She is urban and sophisticated; well-read yet humble with her knowledge; at times she is young, and when appropriate, she is old. You cannot pin her down and every time you think you

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-34172953850464657092011-06-08T07:16:00.000+12:002011-06-08T07:16:51.301+12:00

The Old Town of Dubrovnik is a supermodel. It looks good at every angle. The trees are practically tipping over they're so fat with oranges and furry quince. Sometimes when the light is right, the streets made entirely of white marble gleam and glow. There are bright pink and white flowers against knobbly tan stones, lines of washing suspended over steep stairs, and buses full of French kids on

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-53827107183247812512011-06-05T20:45:00.000+12:002011-06-05T20:45:07.494+12:00

I squeezed myself onto a bench in Old Town Square next to an old guy from New York who had Buddy Holly glasses and was puffing away on a big fat cigar. We watched a tourist stop in front of us with an absolutely ginormous zoom lens attached to his camera. The lens was aimed at the statue behind us. He could've probably got the moon with the thing (that's maybe an exaggeration). Cigar Guy said

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-85317365428612628432011-06-01T18:23:00.001+12:002011-06-02T21:12:15.751+12:00

Vienna is one of the easiest, most relaxed places I've ever travelled. It's springtime and there's a lot of tourists rushing around (including me!); yet it inexplicably retains the feel of an overly large and urban tropical outpost. No one walks particularly fast or talks particularly loud, traffic is orderly and unobtrusive, absolutely everyone can speak English, and sights are well signposted

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com26tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-90782228391371530362011-05-28T07:30:00.003+12:002011-05-28T10:02:15.450+12:00

In less than nine hours, I'll board a plane and disembark a bajillion hours later in Vienna, Austria. I'll be reunited (however briefly) with a childhood friend, one of my best. I'll then go it alone in Prague, missing Naomi's company and a lost opportunity to hack our way through corked wine with a dinner knife. After that, my mum and I will explore Dubrovnik, Split and Zagreb in Croatia,

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-7335773635302116962011-05-21T22:14:00.001+12:002011-05-22T18:36:58.314+12:00

I'm bunkered down for the weekend playing L.A. Noire. I grew up watching my brother play video games. My friends call my video game discussions a "special interest topic". There's no outfit posts this weekend because my "gaming" clothes consists of a sweater, track pants, and slippers. This is what I wore to work the week past. ♥ Jacket from Kate Sylvester ♥ Blouse from Asos♥  Cardigan

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-18221571151479707952011-05-15T11:24:00.003+12:002011-05-15T11:30:11.191+12:00

It was Alain de Boitton in The Art of Travel who asked the questions, Why and How do people travel? He proposed this: If our lives are dominated by a search for happiness, then perhaps few activities reveal as much about the dynamics of this quest...than our travels. They express...an understanding of what life might be about, outside the constraints of work and the struggle for survival I

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com23tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-64302022028401339152011-05-07T21:56:00.001+12:002011-05-07T22:00:11.249+12:00

Today, I felt an urge to write a "to-do" list of all the things I wanted to accomplish this weekend. I changed my mind when I realised that the only other time I write "to do" lists are for grocery shopping, frantic work days, and sorting out Christmas gifts. Weekends are so short, I feel I can't relax until I do all the things that are supposed to relax me. So thinking about all the relaxing

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com27tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-57269053032605081602011-05-01T19:00:00.000+12:002011-05-01T19:00:08.678+12:00

I often forget I live in Middle Earth until an Easter drive along a deserted road with a view so expansive, epic, and heartbreaking that you forget to breathe. There were peppermint seas hung with curtains of clouds, damp vines with drooping yellow leaves, woolly sheep grazing in green paddocks dotted with decrepit wooden outbuildings, and immense, towering slabs of rock the colour of soot. I

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com29tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-40736383036844768532011-04-23T22:20:00.001+12:002011-04-23T22:20:35.239+12:00

UPDATE 23/04 I've got a little photographic feature on inconnu///unknown. It really is an honour for me to be featured on a site with so many amazing people who take photos so beautiful it makes my eyes hurt. Sometimes I think Genevieve must have made a mistake but she assures me she hasn't! Please visit.  Sometimes I look at my flight bookings for Eastern Europe and already, I feel exhausted

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-27956670769877132992011-04-17T21:14:00.001+12:002011-04-17T21:17:13.328+12:00

I'm taking a trip to Munich, Vienna, Dubrovnik, Split, Budapest, Llubljana, Bled, and Prague. Feel free to leave me some tips. I'm particularly concerned about the number of cameras I'm planning to take. Digital, 35mm film, and Polaroid. Surely I can't take all three?   ♥ Photos by Rob on a Mamiya RZ67 with Ilford Pan 100 film and a Yashica Electro 35GSN with Kodak Portra NC160 ♥ ♥

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-61832264017004087152011-04-09T14:21:00.001+12:002011-04-09T14:34:19.227+12:00

The day started with sour cherry gelato and ended with a sunset so golden brown and warm, it felt like a hug. Maudlin, I know. But what can I say? On the walk up, we encountered two mountain bikers, two runners sprawled on the grass, and a wildlife artist snapping shots of a hopping bird. She thought I was taking photos of the bird too and asked me whether I knew what kind it was. I said, "No.

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com25tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-56140038631683851122011-04-09T14:15:00.022+12:002011-04-09T15:57:50.941+12:00

I adore these autochromes of Monet in his garden. I like how noisy they are (or it might be the resolution of the scans!) and how Mr Monet looks all beard and no face. When I visited the Musee D'Orsay, I spent a large part of my time sprawled in front of this painting. I was astonished and grateful that the painting was so enormous, stretching from floor to ceiling. It reminded me of  the Doni

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-2928917143868250552011-04-03T19:38:00.004+12:002011-04-03T19:41:27.435+12:00

One of my favourite ever quotes is by German author and philosopher, Novalis. We seek the absolute everywhere, and only ever find things. I found it tucked away in the front pages of Leanne Shapton's "Important Artifacts and Personal Property from the Collection of Lenore Doolan and Harold Morris, Including Books, Street Fashion, and Jewelry". It tells the story of love found and then lost

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com30tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-29107590995620543322011-03-30T22:37:00.006+13:002011-04-02T22:31:05.400+13:00

Let's talk social media! Adeline tweeted an article by Paul Carr on techcrunch. He writes about being seduced by the quick and dirty joys of microblogging, and why he has now given up Twitter and Facebook to focus on his neglected blog. This paragraph made me wince in recognition: "...for all the dozens of updates I wrote each month, there was absolutely no substance to any of them. “I am

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-41947720213972988952011-03-26T17:56:00.002+13:002011-03-27T20:43:18.882+13:00

Boat names at this boat yard: Popeye, Peanut Butter Sandwich, Leonidas, Calm, Ngahere and Liz. Number of minutes I felt car sick: approx. 10 minutes. Colours of sails in boat race on the harbour: white, flouro pink, royal blue. About to purchase: The Dylan dress from Karen Walker's Salzburg USA collection, The Impossible Project's PX70 Colour Shade Polaroid film, and a Pentax K1000 (Thank you,

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-75847260082289048812011-03-19T10:30:00.001+13:002011-03-19T10:42:01.080+13:00

This post was inspired in part by Patricia Ann. While her point was about how companies should judge by talent, rather than experience or degrees, I wanted to riff a little on the theme she started. Visit her blog. It's something special. For every "like" on her latest post, she will donate 100 yen to Japan. Anyone with a digital SLR can be a photographer these days. Is this necessarily a good

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-61801907471398144342011-03-12T21:05:00.000+13:002011-03-12T21:05:54.515+13:00

Rob suggested I write about berries and cookies so here goes. I smushed these berries in between my fingers. I expected a smear kind of like strawberry jam oozing in between my fingers, but instead I got a pink, watery stain all over my palms. Disappointing. This week I had the best shortbread chocolate chip cookie from the Lido. I ate it lying in bed with the covers tucked underneath my chin.

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-15727209922229419062011-03-05T20:12:00.000+13:002011-03-05T20:12:05.353+13:00

I think back to my eighteen year old self, living twenty minutes away by bus from the city. My friends and I used to stand at the bus stop at ten o'clock on a Friday night, shivering, readjusting strapless tops, and popping gum. When the bus rounded the corner, we shucked off our heavy winter coats and chucked them behind the bus stop, ready to be collected once we stumbled back home. Once, we

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com38tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-47264747697291465452011-02-27T17:59:00.001+13:002011-02-27T18:21:54.010+13:00

This wedding was at a private residence thirty minutes from Wellington City. The house was a huge converted barn with a swimming pool and a plum, apple, and walnut orchard out the back. It was a day for family with babies and kids running around, dive-bombing into the pool and fairy lights in the marquee. Rob and I are so grateful to the Loves who let us share their big day with them. If you

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-16695813448145207972011-02-23T22:11:00.000+13:002011-02-23T22:11:01.660+13:00

There are people who can't go home in Christchurch. They're huddled in welfare centres with a blanket, the clothes they slept in, and the bag they took to work. I panic at the thought of having home ripped away from me like them. This morning, I felt spooked. There'd been three small earthquakes in Wellington on the same day. I said to the boy, "Remember our plan? This is where we meet if we

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-29951314677926497552011-02-13T11:23:00.000+13:002011-02-13T11:23:23.600+13:00

Shot my first ever wedding with Rob this weekend. It was hot, sweaty, and anxious work. I ruined a pair of perfectly good ballet flats running around on damp grass. Funny, but the things I remember most aren't the perfect moments but the ones that went a bit wrong. A bubble machine that wouldn't produce bubbles, a kid falling off a railing while dancing to Michael Jackson, someone belly

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com35tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-59972759937402309442011-02-06T21:27:00.000+13:002011-02-06T21:27:17.242+13:00

Some things I learnt this weekend (1) The movie Burlesque is terrible (2) Pineapple lilies are beautiful (3) Meow cafe is perfectly styled (4) Large apartments are beautiful, spacious, glamorous but utterly exhausting (5) It's nice to have old friends come back home from overseas and (6) If you're suffering from bloggers block, a list will do. ♥ Photos by Rob on a Canon EOS 5D,

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com22tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-84321457555865597462011-01-31T20:24:00.001+13:002011-02-03T21:29:41.433+13:00

People had been saying in the week leading up to the races that Cyclone Wilma was about to hit and I was going to look like Brian Brake's Monsoon Girl. We got a foggy, hazy drizzle in the second half of the day. The Fashions in the Field tent started to leak. Puddles formed along the queue to the betting booths. I huddled underneath the awnings of food caravans, shivering and downing hot

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-29377684284450405682011-01-24T20:11:00.000+13:002011-01-24T20:11:33.983+13:00

I'm packing up my belongings, getting ready for another move. This time, we aren't going far. Just a few floors above to the top floor of our building. If you tiptoe over the ledge of the balcony, you can see a sliver of the sea. The place once belonged to a Madam. Which explains the three floor-to-ceiling mirrors in the living room and in the master bedroom. The previous owners covered them up,

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com38tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-71701422362735913752011-01-16T21:52:00.000+13:002011-01-16T21:52:10.419+13:00

There's a cyclone coming! I got a taster of it walking along the town belt this morning. I was afraid my entire dress was going to lift off and right up over my head. There's nothing more embarrassing than accidentally flashing random strangers on the streets. It's one of the constant hazards for ladies living in Wellington. Another thing that makes me turn red? Tripping while walking followed

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-87390957442255959692011-01-10T18:33:00.000+13:002011-01-10T18:33:23.999+13:00

Today I took photos with a roll of film which I might not have wound correctly. Every time I pressed the shutter to trap an image in the viewfinder, I had to make peace with the possibility that I might never see it again. We rely so much on cameras and videos to capture our life and the world around us. But whatever happened to imagination? And memories? And daydreams? The picture is only ever

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com27tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-50080203843242791462010-12-31T20:43:00.001+13:002010-12-31T20:45:01.133+13:00

Did I tell you about my NYE last year? When the clock struck twelve in Quinto di Treviso, Italy, I was curled up on the couch inside a convent watching tv. In the main residence, just one icy field across from my room, a group of nuns were happily imbibing prosecco in the candlelight. Dogs were jumping through hoops on the tv screen. I thought Wow. That's amazing. Then I fell asleep.  If

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com28tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-33741303228940806852010-12-28T13:57:00.000+13:002010-12-28T13:58:01.198+13:00

This is my second year spending the majority of the holiday season alone. A self-confessed hermit friend of mine recently confided that she found herself wrapped in a blanket pretending to be a penguin, making penguin noises in the house she lives in alone with her dog. I found this equal parts hilarious, adorable, bittersweet, and alarming, all at the same time. Aren't these the emotions which

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-69174983029994008172010-12-26T21:59:00.003+13:002010-12-27T19:33:31.790+13:00

The first Christmas I can remember is a mash-up of images in my head; a crystal punch bowl with matching glasses than hung on hooks around the rim, a red patterned dress,  fireworks let off at midnight and the dog getting in everyone's way. I slipped and fell next to the car and stained the back of my dress which made me cry for a few minutes until presents provided a great distraction. Now, it's

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-83600761091515997212010-12-24T17:19:00.004+13:002010-12-24T17:20:22.266+13:00

...and soon it'll be Christmas Eve where you are too. For the 25th, I wish you the strength to have your cake and eat it too, the calm to withstand those moments when your heart beats too fast and your brain is paralysed with fear, and a love which keeps you smiling even when the thought of another day is just too much, too soon. Have a great holiday season, lovelies. Thank you for another great

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-77747503613499619272010-12-19T10:47:00.002+13:002010-12-19T10:48:13.963+13:00

It's raining that soft, sheer kind of rain, like the world has decided to wear a see-through dress. It swirls and flutters, obscuring details on buildings and smudging streetlights. Colours bleed and blow out, glowing through the watery fog. These photos, taken during an achingly perfect summer's day in Wellington, is a reminder of how air can feel scorched, and shadows can feel as substantial as

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-61762069877735785062010-12-12T19:12:00.003+13:002010-12-12T19:14:11.908+13:00

There's something insanely Christmassy about DIY bokeh. Diana and I had a lot of fun sharing ideas for DIY bokeh filters and sending emails about our efforts. While we like to a no-fuss approach to photography, it's sometimes nice to get a bit technical and abstract. I had so much DIY bokeh goodness left over to share, I made a very short 24 second video too. Enjoy! My pictures on the left, hers 

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-60958759256891201692010-12-04T20:53:00.004+13:002010-12-04T20:54:26.455+13:00

Because this is the season for costume parties.

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-10706640597310003252010-12-01T22:26:00.001+13:002010-12-01T22:29:35.065+13:00

Christmas fever is setting in early for me this year. Perhaps its the enthusiasm of people like Naomi with her picture perfect gingerbread house and Diana who starts her Christmas countdown on Twitter in June rubbing off me. All I know is, I nearly poked a five year old in the eye trying to shove him aside to watch a toy Santa climbing up and down a ladder in the Kirkcaldies Christmas shop.

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-49242830775015382692010-11-27T10:12:00.000+13:002010-11-27T10:12:47.426+13:00

This used to be an air force base. In 1948, it looked like this. Now, everything is crumbling, and rusting, and the wharves have holes as big as a coffin, and the curtains in the windows are the smiles of old women with crooked teeth. At night, when nobody is around and nobody is looking, I imagine it moaning and creaking and rustling with the wind. With a slow, slow crack, like velcro unzipping

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-15064645128132870612010-11-24T07:09:00.003+13:002010-11-26T18:43:39.207+13:00

I'm blogsitting for Diana at Our City Lights with a post on those unwanted, blurry, underxposed, weirdly framed outtakes languishing in your hard drive.  Diana is my partner in crime for Miles Apart. Keep an eye out for our next Miles Apart Custom Bokeh special edition and visit our most recent special edition, Black and White 35mm Film.

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-9077054042558875622010-11-21T20:10:00.003+13:002010-11-22T14:55:02.351+13:00

Someone once told me to pay attention to those moments when time flies. Because they contain clues about what you value most, what you love most, what inspires you most in your life. There's comfort in this when you find yourself trying to clutch at the hours, the minutes, the seconds, and the days. The trick really is in knowing exactly what to replicate.♥ Photos by me on a Fuji Instax 200 and

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com36tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-73868227596993110362010-11-18T14:45:00.002+13:002010-11-18T17:43:35.975+13:00

When I first started this blog, I was talking to a friend about how some fashion bloggers received free clothes to review. My friend snorted, rather cuttingly, "Who's gonna give you free clothes? The Salvation Army?" Ouch. This was the first memory that came to mind when Threadless sent me an email about their Select line inviting me to take my pick. The Select Line is designed by the

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-70743230003138886272010-11-16T20:07:00.001+13:002010-11-16T20:08:51.315+13:00

6,768 Miles Apart with Diana is now up. Click on the collage below to visit Diana who's hosting Miles Apart this week. See you next time here for another Miles Apart Special Edition; this time with custom bokeh.6,768 Miles Apart started in April 2009. Our archives are here and here but our favorites are the Polaroid edition and the Disposable Camera edition. We also love Naomi and Marie

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-53647653543889600142010-11-13T19:30:00.000+13:002010-11-13T19:30:58.125+13:00

Last year, I went back to my home country after seventeen years away. Staying at my grandmother's house, I realised that a lot of my obsessions (flowers, gardens, knick-knacks, clothes, photos) were not mine alone. The way my grandmother arranged a collection of glossy seashells on a glass table. The effortless way my mother wrapped a scarf around her neck. My aunt's laugh and my cousin's poses.

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com25tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-60038146044000922392010-11-07T19:56:00.002+13:002010-11-07T21:12:08.821+13:00

**UPDATE: Miles Apart with Diana will be one week late. Don't worry! Diana and I will be back on the 16/17 November (depending on whether you're in NZ and US). 35 mm Black and White Film Miles Apart edition, y'all!**A summery Sunday night around six o'clock is one of my favourite times to wander. The suburban families with their giant four wheel drives have gone back home. My favourite cafes are

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-85249952507406071492010-11-04T20:19:00.001+13:002010-11-04T20:29:16.983+13:00

There are so many images and narratives whizzing round in my head that sometimes, I wonder whether I'm really doing something I want to do, as opposed to acting the way I expect someone in my place to. Bear with me as I get all postmodern on you (and I don't mean to be pretentious) but take this as an example. I encountered this field of wild garlic. It was totally glorious. A flurry of images

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-91750947964202860362010-10-30T18:33:00.001+13:002010-10-30T18:35:01.529+13:00

There were only two things I didn't look forward to at primary school; maths and art. We once had to make our own felt and turn it into a Christmas decoration to exhibit for parents later that day. My limp, plain Star of Bethlehem in a strange, non-Christmasy eggplant puce colour failed to draw the crowds. I'm not sure my crafting confidence has ever recovered. However, top among my list of

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-45874809368419606892010-10-27T18:49:00.000+13:002010-10-27T18:49:58.361+13:00

We went for a long time without Miles Apart. And now, I think how silly that was. Sometimes you want to cut yourself off from the world and all your responsibilities. But having tried it, I realise now that this isn't an obligation. It's a joy. And so is she. See you next time for Miles Apart in 35mm Black and White film.My pictures on the left, hers on the right. 6,768 Miles Apart started in

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-9405726354985157112010-10-24T11:15:00.004+13:002010-10-24T11:23:32.519+13:00

I am clinging onto my mothers back, hands twined tight around her neck. She is swimming me across the ocean from one point to another. I remember being petrified; that if I let go, I would sink without a trace below. This is my earliest memory of the sea. Now, I wake up, go for a run, and the ocean streams past me. On Sundays at the farmers market, the sea is the backdrop. When I want to go to

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-56292184106263174362010-10-21T14:30:00.001+13:002010-10-21T14:35:21.412+13:00

Some say blogs are just another medium to project an unrealistic lifestyle, inflate expectations, and encourage wasteful consumerism. These people insult your intelligence as a reader. They presume that because magazines and blogs portray only certain things (perfectly arranged table-settings, amazingly lit photoshoots, blemish free faces, painstakingly styled outfits) you are dumb enough to

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-30510515940886919302010-10-14T21:45:00.000+13:002010-10-14T21:46:08.829+13:00

...if you ever want to be really really depressed, use all the online calculators on the IRD (NZ's tax department) website and work out how long it'll take you to pay off your student loan. The answer will always, always be - the rest of your life. Other mundane ways that life gets you a little down? Own up. Starting now.

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-83050853713936721862010-10-12T20:41:00.001+13:002010-10-12T20:42:14.572+13:00

UPDATE 12/10/10: After a long break 6,768 Miles Apart with Diana is now up. Visit Diana at Our City Lights or click on the collage below to be redirected to our photographic collaboration and its pocket history."It's almost unbearable to read all the human emotions it covers. It feels like looking into the sun as it's dying." Carol Ann Duffy comments on Ted Hughes' "Last Letters"Ted Hughes was

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com22tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-64872612544436928682010-10-03T20:31:00.001+13:002010-10-03T20:32:40.552+13:00

I used to live a minute away from the most gorgeous cherry blossom tree and every spring when it flowered, I went gaga over it. I hated how the blossoms never lasted but loved how, when the petals fell, they carpeted the ground. For a few days, or even a few weeks, a dirty grey sidewalk, a trashcan full to overflowing, a beat up old Toyota Corolla with the windows held together by tape; they'd

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com28tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-70121908367077257242010-09-29T20:38:00.002+13:002010-09-29T20:40:51.797+13:00

"It was in the air, or so it seemed to Kiki, this hatred of women and their bodies-- it seeped in with every draught in the house; people brought it home on their shoes, they breathed it in off their newspapers. There was no way to control it." Zadie Smith, On Beauty (2005)I've blogged this quote before but I'll do it again. And again. And again. If there's no one around to tell you this, or make

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-45877870838598369362010-09-26T21:01:00.001+13:002010-09-26T21:02:26.865+13:00

I'm drinking chamomile and spiced apple tea from a skinny mug with pictures of cats. There's a stack of polaroids to my left, the Patient Photographer's Transformers figurines to my right, and because I'm so short, and the desk is so tall, I'm resting my bare feet on an empty Asics shoebox. I've spent the last fifteen minutes trying to ignore the smudge on the top right hand corner on the left

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com24tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-11717585054504085502010-09-24T22:27:00.000+12:002010-09-24T22:27:14.868+12:00

Spring has brought about a restlessness. I shift constantly in my chair, sitting behind my desk. I gaze out of the window, my thoughts drifting in a sea of...blankness, discontent, impatience. I daydream of Jardin des Plantes in a Parisian winter, of all the furious machines bleating and bleeping in a pachinko parlor in Osaka, Japan, think back to the hours I spent with a best friend hunched over

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-21770224381310995162010-09-19T20:42:00.001+12:002010-09-19T20:47:10.214+12:00

You may have noticed I'm not as active on this blog as I used to be. Don't be anxious about what you may think is abandonment - it is a much loved friend whom I'll always come back to. Instead, I'm kicking back taking polaroids and instax and posting them on my flickr and curating (the fancy word for hunting down other people's photos and putting them all together in one space) on tumblr. Thank

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-89612223451446646272010-09-05T20:26:00.000+12:002010-09-05T20:26:19.162+12:00

I've never ever owned a more functional pair of shoes than these shiny blue gumboots. ♥ Dress is thrifted ♥ Jacket from Forever 21 ♥ Gumboots from The Warehouse ♥ Scarf from Witchery ♥ Brooch from Emily ♥ Location: Belmont Dam Walk ♥

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-6909516444764879002010-08-23T20:31:00.003+12:002010-08-23T20:33:53.994+12:00

This editorial is so beautiful in its simplicity and romance that I had to share it with you. It makes me long to have another summer holiday; this time in a rocky, coastal sea village with walls whitewashed so white you can hardly stand the glare and a sky so blue you could drown in it like it was water. It also reminds me of a minimalist Lawrence Alma-Tadema painting crossed with Picnic at

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-25641211015631454282010-08-11T22:47:00.002+12:002011-05-28T06:53:14.437+12:00

The geography of this island can describe the situation for the locals. Home is a placid lagoon which, when the sun is right, the sea, sand, and reefs combine to make a spectacular shimmering blanket of blue, white and tan. It is paradise, in all its cliched, tropical glory. Home is enclosed by a coral reef sheltering a lagoon, much of which has been protected as a marine reserve. The Cook

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-4690512261853823002010-08-05T21:13:00.002+12:002010-08-05T21:16:38.516+12:00

I've felt like fastforwarding through this winter for quite a while now. Even a red wool coat with big gold buttons from Paris hasn't helped me shake my longing for sunshine and warmth. So I'm off to Rarotonga to soak up a weeks' worth of Vitamin D. When I come back, I'm straight into a new challenge at work, starting in a new team and a new area of law. I'm going to need all the rest I can get.

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-8799258113603826832010-08-01T12:41:00.001+12:002010-09-27T11:40:26.116+13:00

Someone once told me that New Zealand contained the largest varieties of the colour green that they had ever seen. ♥ Rob's Instax on the left, mine on the right ♥

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-70704184848322361012010-07-23T21:19:00.000+12:002010-07-23T21:19:26.748+12:00

Let the golden age begin/ Let the window down/ Feel the moonlight on your skin/ Let the desert wind/ Cool your aching head/ Let the weight of the world/ Drift away instead - BeckAndrea du Chatenier's installation at The New Dowse is variously described as a "futuristic vision of a Golden age", "an era where ideals of real and fake are in disarray and copies sit merrily alongside originals...

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-35795358073908868622010-07-18T10:19:00.001+12:002010-07-18T10:21:14.176+12:00

“Once, in my father’s bookshop, I heard a regular customer say that few things leave a deeper mark on a reader than the first book that finds its way into his heart. Those first images, the echo of words we think we have left behind, accompany us throughout our lives and sculpt a palace in our memory to which, sooner or later—no matter how many books we read, how many worlds we discover, or how

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-49586906310762854282010-07-11T00:34:00.000+12:002010-07-11T00:34:47.577+12:00

♥Dress by Dotti ♥ Bangle from Newtown Fair ♥ Backgrounds from Antique Images ♥

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-40608863322311678922010-07-04T15:53:00.000+12:002010-07-04T15:54:03.135+12:00

Remember Choose Your Own Adventure books? I used to keep a finger between the pages of each choice that I made in case the path I'd set myself on ended up in death (Their fangs are long, sharp, and numerous, which they waste no time in demonstrating to our hapless heroes. THE END) or utter fiasco. What if life were like one of those books? If you wanted, you could get another bite at the apple.

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-76000973012411524032010-06-27T14:31:00.002+12:002010-06-27T14:36:12.200+12:00

My pink teapot and I have a lot in common - we both like tea (loose leaf Earl Grey and Tokyo Lime as our top two picks), we both like to be warm, we both like pink, and we've both worn this hat.♥ Earrings from Forever 21 ♥ Scarf from Farmers ♥ Jacket from Witchery ♥ Teapot from Kirkcaldies and Steins ♥ Tea Cosy/Hat from Portmans ♥ Teacup from Freedom Furniture ♥ Saucer is vintage ♥

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-8770601449579054382010-06-14T00:22:00.001+12:002010-06-14T00:29:36.530+12:00

My friends and I once drove an hour out of the city to a haunted corn maze in the middle of nowhere called "Corn Evil". You brought a torch, wore running shoes, and you were locked inside a walled-off field of corn stalks over six feet tall, cut through with paths and obstacles. You had to find your way out of the maze whilst being chased and terrified by chainsaw-wielding psycho hillbillies and

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-35184641802903446722010-06-06T14:48:00.001+12:002010-06-06T14:55:21.980+12:00

You will hear thunder and remember me,And think: she wanted storms. The rimOf the sky will be the colour of hard crimson,And your heart, as it was then, will be on fire.Excerpt from Thunder by Anna Akhmatova. Translation by D.M. Thomas♥ Red Coat from Paris, France ♥ Dress and Shoes from Glassons ♥

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com25tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-2387855752450361822010-06-03T20:49:00.002+12:002010-06-03T20:53:25.004+12:00

I'm irrationally envious and in awe of young Mary's 16 year old self-taught photographic prowess. Her pictures are reminiscent of my beloved Ida Borg and Lina Scheynius. Her photos are a delicious mix of idyllic vignettes which slowly descend into beautiful but unsettling still lifes of controlled chaos, exemplified by a flower in one shot, and in the next, its crumpling ashes as it is set

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-37485250292679438552010-06-01T22:32:00.004+12:002010-06-02T18:56:12.320+12:00

Forgive me. I find myself less and less interested in outfit posts. Instead, I've been skulking around the interior design section in the bowels of the local library. I've hit a short pause on this blog but am very much alive and kicking on my tumblr named Your Granny Was Chic, showcasing all of those items that some may say belong in an assisted living facility, but I say belong in your house

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-29320800258070746512010-05-24T20:06:00.000+12:002010-05-24T20:07:07.110+12:00

Maybe it's the weather. Or perhaps its the fact that by 5 pm every day, the sky is pitch black. But I appear to be spending more and more time gazing out of the window, at the peltering grey rain outside, and thinking about one thing and one thing only - escape - how, why, what, where, and who......♥ Dress is Vintage from Missy's Room, Cuba Street ♥ Cardigan from Valley Girl ♥ The Ana Cocktail

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com22tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-619205859193391482010-05-19T19:39:00.001+12:002010-05-19T19:40:51.173+12:00

Today, information is everything. We can become acquainted with the mundanest details of peoples lives, whether we want to be or not. Gossip is bemusing, entertaining and a godsend on long days at work. But when the things you know makes you incapable of having a conversation with somebody you used to adore and share everything with, it makes me wish I knew less, understood less, and was able to

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com23tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-68620677359437385462010-05-15T04:32:00.002+12:002010-06-13T20:34:52.986+12:00

4:22 on a Saturday morning here. 9:23 am on a Friday morning there in California. I imagine that early morning in California looks something like a combo of sun, palm trees, a cluttered urban skyline, and concrete. Only a city girl at heart like me could be thrilled with that combination. Diana, in case you were wondering, early morning here looks much the same - except without the palm

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com25tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-73658163511567681012010-05-10T20:10:00.001+12:002010-05-10T20:13:19.324+12:00

Depictions of love only ever seem to be about three things; love which is unrequited, love only recently found, and love lost and forgotten. What is it about constant, every day love that leaves writers and artists largely speechless and silent? A love that wakes you every morning with a kiss and a steaming cup of coffee left on a kitchen counter. A love which forgives you after your mean streak

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com35tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-83601922093494786462010-05-08T00:04:00.000+12:002010-05-08T00:04:42.166+12:00

Do you remember how some girls at school were always naturally better than you in picking up foreign languages? It used to frustrate the hell out of me how Marie over there was busy blathering away in French, c'est this, alors that, tant pis whatever. Meanwhile, I was struggling to translate "Cecilie liked cake" (stupid verbs!). Well, I think I'm not a natural at being a nice person. Oh I'm good

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com25tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-63600813180135432962010-05-01T20:42:00.003+12:002010-05-02T10:04:16.091+12:00

I trudged through the wind and spitting rain today with a hole in the sole of my favourite shoes *sadtrombone*. Nothing more disgusting than squealchy feet. Autumn has hit us hard.♥ QUICK NOTE: I've tidied up all my blog links by deleting blogs which don't exist anymore and blogs which haven't updated within three weeks. If I've been a bit overzealous and deleted your lovely blog, don't take it

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com24tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663636900162375188.post-63712662812409334112010-04-29T19:17:00.000+12:002010-04-29T19:18:49.115+12:00

UPDATE! Thank you for those who emailed me about the Art Swap. You're ace.6,768 Miles Apart Disposable Edition is now up on Diana's site. Click on the pic to be redirected!ANZAC Day. Completely by accident, we found ourselves in a tiny and deserted war memorial/rest stop just past the small town of Featherston. All around us, the trees were dripping yellow, brown and red leaves. A stark white

ana b.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16699895246925305072noreply@blogger.com17