let’s hang {+ give away winner} | into the next town {UK, part II}

i don’t think i have ever been anything else but a seeker. as of today i’ll commit head on: i am the seeker. i will most probably always be the seeker. searching being the drive force behind the creative process, i seek. {i’m guessing we all do.}

naturally i also want to find. to do so i’ve been asking myself defining questions. what makes what i do mine? a query happening over and again, many times. a day. yes. i’ll admit to that too: it is tiring. very, very tiring. i think i may hang my queries out to dry.

for now, i drew the give away winner already, hand on my heart; eyes closed. congratulations on the happy occasion, babies. your tiny parcel is leaving on monday, if you send me your postal adress.

now. anyone sending me their snail mail address {woolfenbell[AT]gmail[DOT]com} receives a signed tinyWOOLF postcard {not in the shop} anyway; an early season’s greeting, a sharing, let's say. ♥ can i also thank you all for your best wishes on the opening of my tinyWOOLF shop. feel very welcome. now. let's return to england...

the reason why in the eighties we rode into the next town from our remote seaside stead was to gaze at such shops as waterstone's, boots and WAREHOUSE, to next lose ourselves spending pennies. the tearooms we hung out in were authentical, no chain rubbish. {sorry for the hearsey feeling up there in the image. look closely! that horse is doing a muybridge : all four up in the air at the same time.}

also when i lived in kent i dreamed of getting into canterbury art college. remembering my application days fondly i now realize the lack of a stable mentor {and an impressive portfolio} quickly broke off that ambiguous caprice. it doesn't half raise a smile today.

walking those familar streets many thoughts arose, primarily of the '...if ' kind; the alleys of old felt revived, whilest discovering many new ones; the cathedral's quiet cloisters having remained reassuringly square and free to the public. i used to dream here alot, in the shade. last week i silently shot some images ...

... before fleeing the early evening chill, all of a sudden drawn in by lingering young boys' voices, practicing evensong. as the main cathedral lights were being turned off, the presbytery filled up, leaving everyone inside snug and loyal. before the mass hand-outs reached my seat though, i slipped out again, chasing another blast from the past. for now, all of my canterbury here.


  1. what a great post, for me...as a big englishlover! you used to live in Kent?
    i have lived in derbyshire!

    and Babies congratulations!

  2. It's hard to believe that the last photo was taken in England. It looks like several small Buddhist temples. (Of course, it could be because I just got back from the Buddhist center and have that on my mind...)

  3. wonderful to see all your images~
    congratulations to the winner.

  4. thank you again! and the drawing was so elegantly done.

    the muybridge horse experiment is something i think about a lot, holding a kind of a silly grudge against it. did the reality really start to change with it? to unravell and to be set anew in a false way, over and over again? and the wrong things getting too much significance...? i don't know if i really think so - and that has been part of my seeking these past 10 years. that's a long time, perhaps i should just let it be and enjoy your towns. : )

  5. Really enjoying your photos! here and on Flicker! congrats to the winner :)

  6. oh, to hear those voices drawing me into that beauty. you captured it well, in word and image...

  7. How beautiful! I am especially drawn to the photo of the doors and the last photo from the cathedral. Fantastic!

  8. Being a seeker is a wonderful thing! Have a great week!

  9. what a wonderful editing job you did! I didn't know about your british past. the "what if" is a very human thing to dwell on.

  10. Wonderful photos of your trip to the past and I especially love those doors! By the way what is a snail mail address?
    Hugs + Love
    Barbara Bee