Subscribe
-
Recent Posts
Tags
alone Animals art print baxter BIFF Books brisbane Brisbane International Film Festival bulbs coffee debut album dog dress ebay Events existence Fashion Film flowers fragrance Inspiration Interviews jack bauer live music love madeit magazine Music nick cave paul auster poetry Public Courtesy Rules rage rain reading seasonal change Shopping smog Television thoreau tulips walden winter woodland creatures writingRecent Comments
- tracey on A little obsession called … woodland
- tracey on Moody Music
- tracey on Are you ready to rumble (or get divorced)?
- tracey on Moody Music
- tracey on Moody Music
My Vintage Store ...
My PosterousCategories
Blogroll
- 74 Lime Lane
- A Beautiful Mess
- Andrew Emmett
- Bess Georgette
- Bird With The Golden Seed
- Bleubird Vintage
- Culture Kills…
- CycleStyle
- Daily Diva Dish
- dottie angel
- elsewhere
- Epheriell Designs
- Esme and the laneway
- Fictional Mixtape
- For the Easily Distracted …
- Gabrielle Bryden's Blog
- gingaTao
- gretchenmist
- high up in the trees
- instinct and grace
- Kiersty Boon (The Blog)
- Lemonlight
- Leonie Wise
- Little Mo and Friends
- Lushlee
- madeit
- Maekitso's Café
- Maybe Next Week
- Mental Mist
- Oranges and Apples
- Perception Point
- Pia Jane Bijkerk
- Pop Couture
- Pugly Pixel
- Quit Your Day Job
- Rellacafa
- Sea of Ghosts
- sfgirlbybay
- slam up
- Sunset over Slawit
- Susannah Conway
- The Simply Luxurious Life
- Unloaded
- Xander and Nico Pod
Archives
Meta
Tag Archives: dylan thomas
Must stop buying books, and start reading them
On a recent cold and rainy winter day, I found myself wandering through one of those cheap clearance bookstores on the off chance that I may pick up something I’ve had my eye on for a while (honestly I don’t … Continue reading
Posted in Books
Tagged backwards in high heels, book depository, dylan thomas, love letters, sarah vine, tania kindersley
14 Comments
Time passes by
The days flow by so quickly, but my life does not feel like it’s being lived. Work is such a mind numbing experience that absorbs not only my time, but also my soul. For each hour spent with my … Continue reading






