November 30, 2025

*flowers from the other side


In July I painted this last painting for my mother. It’s done in oil. I haven’t touched a brush since. It was one of the very last things she had around her until she passed away. Seeing it brings up a whole range of emotions, and sometimes I even think I may never be able to pick up a brush and paint again. But I guess that’s just how the mind works sometimes – it's not always our best mentor.

Because today would have been her birthday, I'd like to share one more of her poems:

Der Traumzeit
frisch entschlüpft
dasitzend
bei einer Tasse Tee
schön langsam
zu mir
kommend
mein Blick
nach innen gekehrt
die Augen
zum Fenster starrend
Schneeflocken treiben
das letzte Blatt
des Baumes
winkt mir zu
bringt mich hin
zum ersten Schritt
des Tages.

~

Freshly emerged
from dreamtime
sitting
over a cup of tea
nice and slow
coming to myself
my gaze
turned inwards
my eyes
staring at the window
snowflakes drifting
the last leaf
on the tree
beckons to me
brings me
to the first step
of the day

Hopefully you can enjoy a calm and pleasant first Advent, lighting a candle and feeling lots of gratitude in your heart.
☙

November 29, 2025

*life lately


More things have been happening, and I still feel overwhelmed and physically affected, but I try to go further and do what I can, what choice do I have? I’ve been quiet here for the reasons mentioned, and also because one of my films that I sent in for development has been lost again. It happens once in a while, and if I’m lucky, it turns up again after a few weeks. Let's see! 
I’m slowly getting ready for Advent. I made a simple wreath and poured some beeswax candles, collected pine cones to make fire starters, continued working on a few needlework projects, and have been busy keeping the fires in the stoves going – we’ve already had several nights at seven degrees below zero. I can’t believe this year is already coming to an end. Tomorrow would have been my mother's birthday. I don't know yet how I will spend that day. Hopefully I can be a little out in nature.
A little miracle happened, too. Our persimmon tree has its first two fruits, and I only discovered them after all the foliage had fallen. Even though I checked repeatedly throughout the year, I could never find any, so I was really excited when I finally spotted them.
I hope you enjoy the coming Advent season, and that everything is going well for you!
☙

November 19, 2025

*Golden autumn triangle scarf


Ever since finishing my "Wintry triangle scarf" in January, I’d been wanting to make another one – this time using softer wool and different shades. I ended up choosing a color palette inspired by the exceptional golden autumn we had! I love how it turned out and really enjoyed taking it out to my little beloved oak forest. It was quite chilly despite the sunshine, but wearing five layers kept me warm enough!
☙

November 12, 2025

*Moon, mist & a golden autumn scarf

{Music: Days from Before – Niall Byrne + 81 (Joanna Newsom Harp Cover) – Naomi SV + Cirrus – Leo Nocta + Perihelion – Max Richter + Moon's age – Oak Studios}

A new crochet project,
woven between golden autumn days,
another supermoon,
and a world of mist.
☙

November 09, 2025

*The wind threads through the golden sea of wild autumn grasses


The wind threads through the golden sea of wild autumn grasses,
the dark, heavy clouds sway across the sky.
Frost has stolen the vivid colors of the flowers,
while leaves swirl freely in the air.

Everything seems restless,
yet ready to settle,
to withdraw from summer’s grasp.

It’s the cyclical play of the changing seasons,
ancient, yet renewed with every turn.

{Claudia Voglhuber}
☙

November 08, 2025

*Bandana scarf for Lotte




Finally, I can tell you for whom I made this new bandana scarf. I started it back in March for my dear friend Lotte, but never finished it at the time – life got in the way. I picked it up again and worked diligently on it from mid to late October, and just a few days ago it arrived safely in Belgium, in Lotte’s hands. When I first saw this soft lilac shade of wool, I immediately thought of her, so it was clear from the very beginning that it would be hers. It’s the fourth one I’ve made, and it definitely won’t be the last, I guess. :)
☙

October 31, 2025

*Early birds, golden leaves & cozy October knitting

{Music: Blackbird (Acoustic Cover) – Chase Eagleson + Narcissus – Jiří Horák + Flyt – Tankeflukt + Everfade – Tankeflukt}

Being with the early birds,
among wild chamomile and the first tender beams of morning light.
Reading books outside,
surrounded by the golden glow of the birch trees' foliage.
Finishing the knitted scarf for a dear friend
and wrapping gifts for upcoming birthdays.
☙

October 27, 2025

*fall memories


The weekend was a stormy one. The late October winds hasten the fall of the leaves, and soon the golden play of colors will come to an end. Some Birthdays are coming up and I like to take my time to think of fitting gifts and wrap them in a calm, peaceful mood. Making gifts is definitely one of my love languages. Maybe you heard about the different love languages of people before. The five main are: words of affirmation, quality time, gifts, acts of service and physical touch.
We haven’t had any really gloomy days so far, but I think that could change around All Saints’ and All Souls’ Day. I remember how I loved going to the graveyard around this time of year when I was a child. Sometimes there was already snow, and all the graves were decorated with floral arrangements and candles and there was this one little chapel where people were allowed to place a special candle among a sea of other candles and the room was so warm and full of light. It was so peaceful and one of my favorite fall memories.
☙

October 21, 2025

*Breathing through autumn

{Music: Wind – Brain Crain + Dream 13 (minus even) – Max Richter + Bogo –Will Oldham}

Autumn always feels like coming home.
This season is a bliss for the senses –
a gentle calling to all introverted souls.

I started picking up an unfinished knitting project
and enjoyed the very last dahlias,
the falling leaves, and the first morning frosts.
☙

October 20, 2025

*Breathing through


Twelve days have passed since my mother died.
When I try to take a deep breath, the tears follow instantly.
I've done a lot of repetitive and senseless things to keep the pain at bay.
But autumn shows itself from a beautiful angle,
I sat under the falling leaves,
I sat in the frozen meadow,
I sat in the rising sun
and I sat under the almost invisible silver of the moon.
I sat and tried to breathe through.
☙