15 May 2014


sometimes when I watch that small fellow that is my two (and a bit) year old son, I daydream, and sometimes when I daydream I remember scenes like this: of him standing for the first time, pulling himself up to the lounge we had in our tiny house in Paris - his curly head backed with blue and white quilted triangles, adorned in a stripy cotton, in deep concentration - inspecting fibres or dust particles or something else small, delicate and overlooked by us big people. 

I am overwhelmed by this person who is a part of me - being his mama is so much more than what I do, or don't do, or want to... it's what I see in him, what I see in myself - things remembered, forgotten, lessons learned. 

especially for finding wonder in the ordinary, making our words gentle and our actions true, for getting it right and being mistaken, for begining-again too.



  1. enchanting illustration Emily. Little people do have a way of making you stop and live in the moment don't they?

  2. A beautful sketch, a well remembered photo and a dearly loved little boy!

  3. sounds like a wonderful mother-son bond and it makes the world go around nicely.


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