Tuesday, January 10, 2012
we live near the ocean
We count ourselves pretty lucky to live up the hill from this little spot. We aren't all-day beach-goers (my fair skin isn't particularly suited to this summer sun) but we like to go for early morning or early evening sojourns where we putter and swim.
Yesterday, when the screams were becoming a little persistent and Daniel's and my patience was wearing thin, we headed to the sand and the salt, thankful for the open space. I got to wear my new hat (love it) and, when it came time to swim, I dove into the silence and relished in the buoyancy (and the personal space).
Poet wears lace romper c/o Sapling (a Sapling interview and giveaway will be posted tomorrow)
Labels:
we live near the beach
Friday, November 25, 2011
the problem of excess
I tend to get a little uncomfortable around this time of year. You've probably felt it too - the rising anxiety of a community itching to get their hot little hands on this and that (and also this) before the big man in red gets in his sleigh.
Che really gets the Christmas thing this year and he's subsequently bursting with excitement. We've been reading Christmas books, discussing the 'magic' and reminding him that it's a good time of year to be grateful and happy. The gift giving and receiving is worthy of many a daydream too.
We went to sushi train after his swimming lesson today and I sat with him in the little corner of calm while watching the chaos of the shopping centre merely metres away. Trolleys were overflowing with plastic fluro and every second person wore a frantic look of desperation. They definitely weren't having a jolly ole time.
It's so easy to get swept up in the fast-pace of a busy shopping centre, so easy to go along for the consuming ride. We never go overboard at Christmas time and this year is no exception. We'll buy a tree like last year, decorate it, make baked goodies for the neighbours, play Christmas carols and generally stay close to home. The gifts we buy are small yet sincere (although Che is getting a bike - and might I add that it was incredibly difficult to find one that didn't have flames all over it?!) - wrapped with Che's paintings and tied with re-used string.
I've made a point of asking friends to hold-off on the gifts for Che and Poet - they have so much already. While Lego is clearly the best toy Che has ever owned (he spends hours upon hours building, creating, imagining and problem-solving) it's the mudpies that get the biggest smiles.
Labels:
ché
,
i like taking photos
,
simplicity
,
we live near the beach
Monday, September 12, 2011
behind the scenes
Meet Tim - the man behind the lens. This is how he works; effortlessly juggling cameras while kids play at his feet. He's unperturbed by the fact that he's being filmed because his priority is catching the moment. Capturing it in the beautifully composed frame that he's known for.
I've had so many emails from people near and far wanting to have Tim photograph their families. I figure I'd introduce him and let you in on what a shoot is like. As you can tell it's pretty damn enjoyable. It's like inviting an old friend over, sharing food and stories and remaining quite oblivious to the fact that he's got a camera (or two) slung around his neck. Tim has the unique ability to make you forget all together that he's taking photos. That's the mark of a natural photojournalist.
Through a series of photos he tells the story of a family. A day in the life of. Don't you want that story on your wall?
Labels:
danielgrey.com
,
family
,
film
,
tim coulson
,
we live near the beach
Friday, September 09, 2011
portrait: the sequel, by tim coulson
Tim emailed me last night with a link to the slideshow he had made. Daniel and I watched it - silent. And then I phoned Tim and burst into tears. Truly, I sobbed on the phone to him. Because what he captured is a moment in time, the four of us together, in all our normalcy. And yet it's beautiful. So very beautiful.
Daniel and I got an opportunity to look at our life through the eyes of another. The eyes of an artist. We're blessed.
And now, we just have to choose which few captures will hang on our walls. Which few we will look at, every day, for years to come and be reminded of what we have. Grateful for the little people we made and the happiness that follows them everywhere.
Labels:
corners of my home
,
family
,
tim coulson
,
we live near the beach
Thursday, September 08, 2011
guess who came to visit today?
Yep, Tim came over for pancakes and then we headed to the beach and that blue wall. He came to capture the sequel - the Poet that once was the belly. This is the preview, or, as I like to call it, the teaser. Tomorrow you can expect a story of images, a documentation of our little life. The 1, 2, 3, 4 of us.
Labels:
che
,
family
,
poet
,
tim coulson
,
we live near the beach
Saturday, June 25, 2011
bump: time flies
Last week I noticed that my cheekbones have disappeared beneath the softness of late pregnancy. I'm welcoming the desire to stay close to home, avoid crowds, steer clear of questions from strangers. I think every woman craves anonymity at the end of pregnancy - it's tiring to discuss, over and over and over again, how many weeks to go, the possible sex of the baby, the 'due' date. "I don't do dates," I say. And then I turn and leave.
I have most definitely reached that stage where I'm starting to internalise; cutting off the outside world in preparation for the transition of birth. Going about daily tasks with the slowness of a woman who can feel, day by day, a head nudging down into her pelvis.
Incredibly low iron levels have encouraged me to take it easy, spend a little more time preparing iron-rich foods and upping my herbal tonics. If my iron levels don't increase I may not be able to birth at the low-risk birthing centre I had intended to. Which is ok. I'm not attached to a certain place or time or date. My baby will be born when it wants to - wherever I am. I'm just ready to surrender to the journey, wherever it takes me. Trusting in the knowledge that all will be well in the end.
37 weeks. Not counting.
Labels:
growing a baby
,
we live near the beach
Thursday, June 16, 2011
bump: blue
So the sun came out for about two minutes today. As soon as we saw a patch of blue sky we grabbed jackets and cameras and headed to the shore where the blue wall made for perfect bump shots. Whoa this bump and this baby - heavy, big and oh so round. 36 weeks. I'm guessing I've got about four weeks to go but I know all too well that babies come when they're ready. I could birth in two weeks. Or six. I'm not too attached to a date or a week and I'll try my hardest to stay that way.
It was so nice to bask in the sunshine this afternoon, to feel rays on my face and my belly. Che, like every child around these parts, is suffering from extreme cabin fever, so he was grateful for digging, collecting and splashing.
Before long the clouds crept in and hung low and we came home. Right now there's chicken noodle soup simmering away. We're all a bit sleepy - salt air sleepy. The good kind.
Labels:
growing a baby
,
we live near the beach
I tend to get a little uncomfortable around this time of year. You've probably felt it too - the rising anxiety of a community itching to get their hot little hands on this and that (and also this) before the big man in red gets in his sleigh. 
Yep, Tim came over for pancakes and then we headed to the beach and that blue wall. He came to capture the sequel - the Poet that once was the belly. This is the preview, or, as I like to call it, the teaser. Tomorrow you can expect a story of images, a documentation of our little life. The 1, 2, 3, 4 of us.
Last week I noticed that my cheekbones have disappeared beneath the softness of late pregnancy. I'm welcoming the desire to stay close to home, avoid crowds, steer clear of questions from strangers. I think every woman craves anonymity at the end of pregnancy - it's tiring to discuss, over and over and over again, how many weeks to go, the possible sex of the baby, the 'due' date. "I don't do dates," I say. And then I turn and leave.
So the sun came out for about two minutes today. As soon as we saw a patch of blue sky we grabbed jackets and cameras and headed to the shore where the blue wall made for perfect bump shots. Whoa this bump and this baby - heavy, big and oh so round. 36 weeks. I'm guessing I've got about four weeks to go but I know all too well that babies come when they're ready. I could birth in two weeks. Or six. I'm not too attached to a date or a week and I'll try my hardest to stay that way.
