he's dreamy, right?

that's ok.
you're welcome.



well, i did make it. 
and it was delicious. 
however, it somehow managed to last a lot longer than i expected. 

granted, it was a rather large cake, and there was plenty of other good food kicking around the house.
but a week later, i found myself with still quite a lot of cake leftover...

in an attempt to clean out the fridge a bit, i thought i'd gobble the rest of the cake.
thing is, i wanted to use up the milk too...

so i made a raw cashew-cheesecake smoothie! winner!
it was creamy and tart and a little bit chunky here and there (which i love!)

perhaps this is the real way to test the strength of a dessert recipe - if it can be turned into smoothie-form and still be delicious, it wins. 

...choc brownie smoothie anyone?

the roses are blooming in my garden,
 and i couldn't resist snipping a couple to bring inside.
and somehow, they are exactly the same shade of pink as this smoothie! brilliant!



"What is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.
No time to stand beneath the boughs
And stare as long as sheep and cows.
No time to see, when woods we pass,
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass.
No time to see, in broad daylight,
Streams full of stars, like skies at night.
No time to turn at Beauty's glance,
And watch her feet, how they can dance.
No time to wait till her mouth can
Enrich that smile her eyes began.
A poor life this if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare."

William Henry Davies

i know i haven't written much lately.
but i've been busy.
busy living slowly.
busy thinking dreamily.
busy walking consciously.
busy staring at the sky.
busy with all the precious little things,
because they are plentiful, yet precious.

i'll get around to telling you about all this sometime.
maybe sometime soon.
or maybe not. this blog isn't about promises or obligations.
because let's face it, they stress me the heck out.

so happy friday folks.
i'm spending mine at home.
with dinner party leftovers (they are never-ending and delicious!) and an old movie.
and perhaps just a little bit of arty crafty-ness.




tomorrow, i'll be making this...

... and then i might just die of happiness.

it's a raw cashew-nut and berry cake. 

the recipe is from one of my favourite foodie blogs, My New Roots

she calls it a raw cashew dreamcake.

it certainly looks pretty darn dreamy, if you ask me. 

I'll be back blogging more frequently next week. 
I've been so goal/result focused lately, that I've become consumed by crafty tasks, and I haven't been able to lift my head til I finish them. 
Which is good. 
I love that feeling of completing something I've spent hours on, but I kinda forgot to blog...
But anyway, I'll be back next week with stories to tell (and a happy tummy after this weekends baking!). 
Bel. x

photos via my new roots



"If a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear it, 
does it make a sound?"

i often wonder what will be enough.
if what i want will be enough.

if climbing trees and grazing knees
and splitting hairs
and midnight walks
will be enough.

if cups of teas
and wine and cheese
and that tingling feeling you get when the weather let's out a sigh and a rainstorm - 
will be enough.

if sitting in an armchair with a handful of yarn
will still make my heart warm on a cold afternoon.
if writing letters and watching westerns will pull me through sad spells.
and if that will be enough.

if living on the land or living in the city will nourish me equally.
in their own ways, but equally.
and if i grow my own peaches and sit on the porch with their juices dripping from my chin - 
will that be enough.

and if i do this all,
and if i see this all,
will i feel full up?
will i be restored and know i've tried and,
will i feel full up?
will it be enough?

if i do it all,
if i do it all,
will it matter at all.

or if i share the load,
if i share the road,
will it somehow matter more?

if nights in silent slumber with another
and mornings drinking tea and talking about how we're both confused
will be more than enough.
or just enough.

and will i ever stop second guessing
where i am or where i'll be,
or who you are and whether you're right for me.
will you tell me "that's enough" and walk away
or take my hand and say "that's enough" and push the fears away.

will i do it all myself,
and save my own day.

i often wonder what will be enough.
if what i want is asking too much.


Have you heard of Yokoo?
She is a maker of lovely things.

She takes delight in the entire process and seems to move swiftly and patiently through her motions.

I love her creativity.
I admire her patience.
I respect her craft.

This following video by etsy offers a peek inside her process.
(And what lovely things she has to say about it all!)

Handmade Portraits: YOKOO from Etsy on Vimeo.



i woke this morning, and sprang out the door.
hot-footing it to my yoga class in my sandals.
in my sandals!
it's warm enough for open-toe footwear in the morning now.
 i love that.

i leapt into the day, with a dull ache in my head from lack of sleep
(i still can't fall asleep before 3am lately)
but i didn't mind.

the air felt so crisp 
so full.


i forget this feeling that soars through my body this time of year.
until it's here, that is.
i drift through winter time, rugged up and seemingly accepting of the chills.
of the grey days.
of the blue days.

and then, it's september. 
and suddenly i feel lighter and i can't help but notice every budding flower as it bursts into bloom.
and bloom it does.
bloom it must.

and i lie here on my cloud white bed dreaming up pictures ..kind of like these actually.
of cakes and lakes.
of landscapes and great escapes.

and i keep dreaming and filling my head up - until it too bursts.
and blooms.
bloom it must.


and the sky just sighed a little and let out some tears.
but the air still feels the same.

and i know that i can do that too.
i can bud and bloom,
i can sigh and cry,
and i can just let go and surrender to the whole crazy cycle.

and i can feel the same.


good music.
temperature rising.

is it time for a summer music festival yet?



"I never really understood the word 'loneliness'. As far as I was concerned, I was in an orgy with the sky and the ocean, and with nature."

Right on.



tomorrow will be horrendous.

it's 3.56am and i'm still wide awake.

these long lingering nights come along every few weeks. and my mind races and my soul wanders and i think about who i've known and what i've been shown.

i dipped into some old memories tonight. forgotten memories.
well, almost forgotten i guess.

i've been feeling forgetful lately. i've been predicting a future of dementia for myself, then becoming frightened by the reality that it doesn't just affect the elderly. and i forget some more, and freak out some more. nothing too out of the ordinary, really.

i think that i'm fearing this forgetfulness because so many real things have been happening lately and i used to have such a habit - such a strong ritual, really - for recording life.

but not any more.

i've lost my words.
well, maybe they are still there inside me.
only, it's not time for them to come out yet.

i fear that the important things might be forgotten.
the shape of them will remain, but the details lost forever.

what hits me most is the weight - the heavy weight of what's left to remember.
the heavy weight that i need to carry.
i must carry it.
too much has been learnt to leave it behind.

but it's not just that.
of course, there's more.

it's that it's on me now.
just me.
there are fewer people to ask now.
to remind me.

to describe to me how small my hands used to be.
or what my favourite food was when i was 5.
or what i wanted to be.

do i need to know those things?

and don't i normally spend most of my time running from those things?
i constantly dream of something else, somewhere else.
of the blank canvas, the new start.
free from ideas of who i was or who i've been.
only carefully selecting what i love about me, and forgetting the rest.
forgetting the rest.

but then a night like tonight comes along and takes me by surprise and memories appear again.
and i feel relieved for a moment.
but this too passes, and the weight slips back.

i am trying so hard to be my own answer.
i am my only constant and that's ok.
it brings me to tears, but that's ok.
because it's also what brings me back.
and i heave a sigh and my tears stop and i find stillness again.
and i'm calm and still alone.
but i'm calm.

this only happens at night.
when it gets to 4am and i'm wide awake and these thoughts appear.
and then they pass.



in the shape of hands.
creepy doll hands.

i love the internet.