poppies {icelandic}

I gathered some poppies, placed them on the window sill and think I might just sit, watch and waiting for them to bloom. They are so heart breaking. They struggle in their weird hairy drooping little pods and suddenly unfold with the most incredibly endearing delicacy. I've had some in the garden and even the lightest falling of rain makes them drop their petals. I don't really understand how they survive {but ever so glad they do}. I love that their petals aren't ordered and look sort of rumpled.

I sort of feel like I can hear this poppy's sigh

success

On the first Wednesday in August, two friends and I hosted a film-picnic-flower strewn night at 77 George St, The Rocks. It was quite a lovely night. We covered the roof in flowers, vines, cherry blossoms, lace, linen, paper ships, old maps, glass bottles, little poems and letters. I made lemon, thyme and lavender coconut slice, salted hazelnut fudge {which may or may not have had edible gold glitter from Paris upon it}, basil and parsley baked ricotta and mulled wine [recipes to follow post haste]. We screened Tarkovsky's The Mirror {which I have yet to watch in it's entirety-there wasn't room for us to sit down so we sat outside the very pretty sandstone venue and sipped lightly spiced wine}. The roof will remain for the rest of the month so we're hosting another film night, probably showing some sort of documentary. I love Man on a Wire but I suspect a lot of people have already seen it. It has been suggested we might watch the documentary on 'objectum sexuals.' Or maybe mushrooms. I love mushrooms and have them growing in a box under the stairs. I am about to harvest my second crop of them. The taste and texture of home grown mushrooms is pretty delightful. And they grow so quickly! One day you have tiny little pins and the next gorgeous mushroom domes.

a still from Man on a Wire {swoon}

a very dark shot of verte

verte twigs and wall

verte vines and roses