Monday, March 8, 2010

Ice, chocolates and the curlew's cry at dawn.

Early morning searching for something. On the beach, even at the water's edge, ice. Ravens. Curlew call and birds in flight. Seaweed stiffened and frosted with ice, crisp. The rising sun gathering up the dropped shadows of the night. The quarter moon fading to translucent with the coming of day. Water thickened by cold, rock pools with fragile ice lids.  Trying to find an idea, direction, for the Musicians Benevolent Card design, and mugs also. Found instead what might be the begining of a new book and the possibiliy of piracey.

Yesterday I was given the most exquisite box of choclates. In less than 24 hours I have managed to secure an invitation to the 'chocolate factory' in Leeds. (I wonder if in another 24 I could arrange to get Jonny Depp to meet me there?) The choclates are a work of art in themselves, both to look at and on the tongue. Just beautiful. Thanks Ann.

All day painting. Quiet, peaceful. Outside is still cold and now dark so have put coal on the fire.




  1. They look lovely, I followed the link and they sound lovely too. Yum!

  2. Gorgeous chocolates!...they look like works of art, and they sound delicious. The web site of the chocolatier is very perfect that a shop with Belgian chocolate origins should end up on Brussels street.

  3. I always feel as if I am walking beside you when I read your posts. I enjoyed this morning's stroll. What does a Curlew sound like?

  4. Have put a link for you to a sound file of a curlew, Kat. If you can imagine the call of a curlew with a soundtrack of a light salt wind and very gentley rolling sea, carried almost on the edge of hearing and with the odd raven call, that would be something like it.

  5. The chocolates and the early morning walk are both lovely. If the 'artwork' weren't made of Belgian chocolate, I'm sure they would remain in the beautiful box forever... so pretty! Like Kat, I enjoy the walks you take with us tagging along. Thank you again.