I often feel like my desk is indicative of my mood: a visual representation of my emotional state. If i'm feeling particularly chaotic or flighty, books will lie in various states of being unread and underlined, precariously placed close to the edge in dusty stacks . If i'm feeling productive and zen, I'll have just chosen one (or three) books to concentrate on at a time, and be methodically working my way through it.
Home has, historically, been a difficult place for me. It has been the scene for one too many family dramas for my liking, as well as the backdrop for numerous battles with depression and anxiety. Yet, for some reason, my family home is where I come back to, and this time I am grounded here for a few months while I await an urgent back surgery. My mood and mental health is inextricably linked to my surroundings, and so, I found myself gravitating to my most cherished possessions during this difficult, and exhausting, time.
I ensure that I go on one walk, no matter how brief, per day. I train my eye studiously to search for beauty, and document it in a photograph or with a mental note. Today I passed a pink rose growing so perfectly symmetrical in the wild that I could not help but pick it. I felt a slight pang of guilt ripping this masterpiece from her environment, but I justified it as a birthday present for my Mum's 60th tomorrow. My youngest memories of her are bathed in glamour. We didn't have much money growing up, but she idolised a small bottle of Chanel No.5 that my Dad bought her on her honeymoon, and she always made high street clothes seem tailored just for her, as well as having a face that Michelangelo could have carved out of marble.
Scattered around are birthday cards and a few gifts that my wonderful friends in London showered me with earlier this month. I always swoon at the sight of something from Diptyque - the perfumed botanicals stir up something deep and primal in me. As you can probably tell from this blog, I journal a lot, and finished the stunning leatherbound notebook I picked up in Tulum last year. This is when I fell in love with quality, leatherbound journals: the heavy weight pages and the patina of the coating makes it a joy to use. I shopped around for a replacement for a while, and finally stumbled on an offering by the company Wanderings, who have a great sized journal with high quality paper, that's also refillable. It's not left my side this week.
Draped on top of it is my favourite Rose Gold Timepiece, another birthday present for my 28th. Time seems slow nowadays. The good thing about being home and just waiting for a surgery is that you get to break out of any normal routine, and ask how you would like to fill your days. I'm usually running from activity to activity, never one to simply sit or rest. Now rest is mandatory and I seem to look at the clock and realise how much time I have in the day. Reading, cooking, photography and writing seem to be on the menu lately - and it's not a bad one at that.
The poet Pablo Neruda has been on my mind lately, as you can tell with this well-thumbed copy of his 'Selected Poems'. I've posted a few of my favourite lines. Isn't he just... everything? I first fell in love with him when I watched the movie 'Il Postino' ten years ago, a dreamy drama set on an island off the coast of Italy. A fisherman with a beautifully simple life creates a friendship with the poet Pablo Neruda when he is exiled from Chile to this Italian island. The film is essentially my private fantasy. On the back of his Selected Poems lies a quote i'm pondering: 'I have never thought of my life as divided between poetry and politics.' I've never seen myself as overtly political, I find the arena of politics full of such unsavory, power-hungry villains, and yet the more I think about art (and fashion, and music), the more political it seems to be.
There's only one piece of jewellery that stays with me at the moment and that's this unique piece from Oliver Proudlock's 'Serge Denimes' collection. I was so drawn to it with the blue gemstone and almost islamic star, and my mum commented that it looks nearly identical to one that her father used to wear. I'm always amused at why we are drawn to certain pieces.
Finally, lain across a soulful prayer and mantra that my friend Grace posted me from her current job in Ghana, to help me through this tough time, are my small collection of crystals. I have some black obsidian as a powerful energy protection, gifted to me by the psychic who looks after Kim Kardashian, as well as a rose quartz heart given to me by my therapist (and friend) to remind me to do that oh so simple task of loving yourself. There's also a volcanic stone bracelet sourced from Tulum and a Tiger-Eye band made for me by a woman in Pai, Thailand.
I'm posting this just before I try to get an early(ish) night and finish rewatching Il Postino. Sending my love across cyberspace to whoever may be reading this - have a sunny Weekend.
xoxo, Priz xoxo
Movies I'm Watching: Il Postino (1994) because it's dreamy and features a fictional Pablo Neruda
What I'm Reading: Pablo Neruda's 'Selected Poems'. No one seems to capture devastation and aching longing like him.
Songs I'm Listening To: Eva Cassidy's Songbird
Candle I'm Burning: Tubereuse by Diptyque
Perfume I'm Wearing: Bleu de Chanel, Chanel