The mist rolled in last night and by this morning had turned to our first frost of the season. Today is all sunshine and golden leaves and conkers. I expected to want to be outside soaking it in but instead, for the first time in an age, I want to write. I want to sit at my desk and splurge words.

I could tell you about our trip to Australia and how wonderfully other it was, leaving me with a piece of my heart claimed and yearning. I could tell you how coming home didn't feel comfortable and how I felt excommunicated by the spirits of this place, realising only now that in fact it was me who had disconnected and that nature spirits are not sentimental the way we animals are - they simply carry on wherever we are. I could tell you I am obsessed with wombats. I could tell you that my perceived need and then opportunity to be alone resulted in my understanding that I have changed on a cellular level into someone who is now so interwoven with the other members of my little family of six that it pains me to be separated from them. It took me 50 years to become this person and it feels good but oh so strange. Oh look...I just told you all that.

Mostly I want to say that I am closing this blog after three years as The Art of Wildness. I am reading about the rebirth of blogging and although, for me, it has never died, I feel inspired and excited by this micro-movement back towards my first internet love.

Three recent posts have reminded me what blogging can mean when it touches your own experience:

This post about the passing of the much-loved Chuck, by the Queen of Bloggers.

This one from Michelle Gardella whose creativity and perspective inspire me (also: "I do not care about being desired'. Me neither.).

This one from Mel because yet again we share thoughts and feelings and that makes me feel better.

And that's what it is: when we can read a really good blog post and admire it, then make the short leap to recognising the feelings and experiences it describes, perhaps some of that regard is transferred to ourselves. Perhaps we understand that if one person's feelings - which match our own - are valid and valuable, then maybe ours are too.

My personal preference for Instagram these days is absolutely driven by the ability to pick up my phone and plug in, whether I'm in a queue at the shops, in the car wash, waiting for the kettle to are all just there in my hand and I can quickly join in with a photograph, an emoji and a hashtag. Writing a blog post means sitting down, taking a breath, applying myself and spending dedicated time.

I want that back. I'm re-creating that space in my life and it will be a new space. I'll let you know.



  1. i'll be here. and i'll follow wherever you roam. xoxoxo

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  3. I've redefined and changed my online space many times since I started blogging 10 years ago. I still love it, both the writing and reading, and it's blogs like yours that keep my faith in it for I am not enamored with all of those that have commercialized their words and 'fame'. I am glad we're connected on Instagram and I look forward to your new space as and when you're ready for that. I'll still be here, too :)

  4. Oh my, I hope you mean that you will be opening a new space, rather than leaving altogether. I so much love your beautiful words and they often touch my heart and ground me anew.

  5. I don't have a smart phone so I can't plug in and join in and, for the most part, that's absolutely fine by me. Wherever you go, I hope to not get left behind.

    1. Oh I'll be blogging, just not here : )

  6. Okay, now you have to PROMISE to send forwarding address so I can find you!! Just had a lovely chat with our mutual dear friend, Milena ... I love how our worlds intersect in sooooo many ways .... I too love the commitment to what I loosely call "the REAL blogging" ... honestly, when I look back over my life the past 10 years there have been people like you handing me virtual cups of water as I slough by in this marathon of living. I cannot imagine how different things would be without the nudges, the reassurances, the insights and shared truths that have given comfort and space and perspective to the twisting turnings of my own heart/mind. So yes ... looking forward to staying in touch on many many levels. Obviously, I am a creature of habit as I stay put in my familiar blog-boat but I love how you and Mel shake things up and readjust to reflect what is vital and true for you in this moment, this phase of your journeys. Love you! xo

  7. How is the new space coming together? I've just come back to blogging this month, and it feels like coming home. I've missed these connections, both with others and myself. I can't wait to see what your new space is like, and where this journey goes xx


Thank you, I love it when we talk.