It seems that I am totally rubbish at blogging at the moment and while I could say that I have no other excuse than time, that wouldn't be the whole story.
I don't often share personal things here partly because it's not what I've written about in the past. I write about pretty interiors, lovely travels and fantastic wallpaper. If you follow me on instagram you might have seen snippets or got a hint that all isn’t the right way up. I was speaking with some other blogger friends and they tell me I should share why I have been unable to put words to paper. If you’d rather not hear about this I’d suggest you check out this lovely post on beautiful mid-century furniture here.When I started writing here, I had no idea how things would work out. You know that little thing about whether anyone would actually read my ramblings, and if they did whether they would like what I had to say. On the whole though I mostly stay in my little corner of the web, doing my own thing. It actually all went better than I thought and brought me in to contact with some amazing people and some brilliant opportunities. But life isn’t a bed of roses all the time. The last 15 months have been insanely hard for me. I’ve cried a lot lately; cried because of loss, cried because of memories, cried because I don’t have the answers and I’ve cried because I can’t fight my way out of it. These blues have been more Farrow & Ball Blue Black than Dulux’s First Dawn. Yes, crying is an important part of the grieving process for many people but rather than being a relieving action it’s led me to other questions, that I do not have answers to. Opening up fissures in how I define who I am. So many things are playing a part in this now that I can’t find the beginning (or the end) – Is it all about the loss of my parents? Is it actually the condensed week of a working Mum? Is it no longer working in a studio? Is it Christmas? Which I always find difficult. Why am I lacking direction? I used to be in charge of my destiny and it feels like it’s freewheeling right now. I keep starting things and leaving them unfinished. I mentally tell myself to “buck up” my ideas and “pull myself together” but it’s not that simple and it isn’t working.
I intrinsically think that I must be making people uncomfortable with my emotional outpouring so inevitably I minimize my feelings and brush it off. I do a pretty damn good job at painting a smile on for the outside world. The world upsets, disappoints, frustrates and hurts us in countless ways. It delays us, overlooks us and smashes our ambitions. There have been times without patience I have fuelled my own bitterness. I hope with time things will become clear and that these dark grey days can give way to clarity and relief.