corner view ≈ light

tinyWOOLF jumps onto the corner~view~train today to open up shop, in the light of new beginnings, new life, new hope! a blazing light at the {almost} end of a long winter's tunnel. [i know. i'm being optimistic.]

hi!  surprise! ...
{click on images to learn more}

booklets & matching envelopes

tiny strands and larger garlands

original wolfenbell images garlands

last but not least
the tinyWOOLF magic box

on the seasonal front, the shop will be spring refilled on march 21 st, and after that at the beginning of any new season, aiming at a tiny business with a certain oomph of fitting colours {and making a little room for tinyWOOLF to breathe in and manufacture}. 

be very welcome here.
let there be light, and
let's meet again, shall we? ♥
happy shining corner view to all

on jane's, hosted by francesca

drawing | another roadside attraction

greenwich park tea pavillion
one january sunday morning, a few years ago, i walked alongside greenwich park and ended up at the top of blackheath hill. the air felt crisp and heavy with snow. i crossed a few virginally white fields, found a cardinal blue felt hat ~ who ever loses such a thing of beauty in the snow? ~ and crossed the wide lanes to get a better view on the park and its observatory.

i didn't stay long. there was just nothing happening, on top of that hill, but for one roadside attraction, that was unsurprisingly closed for the morning, 'due to extreme weather conditions'. i hastily made my way back through the park, stopping at the halfway café, for a brew of hot earl grey. 
demie's mysterious proposal on this week's drawing theme made for interesting grey-cell-matter-overtime. ..☻

corner view ≈ january

dead of winter to be born in, and it was, when i was born, many moons ago. father apparantly, dropping mother's suitcase on the stairs of the maternity hospital.

i came out of the ordeal and was sped home, horns blowing. through ice, and wind and snow. is this why i love whiteness in winter so much?

with the month of january rapidly drawing to a close, it leaves us with the prospect of february, the shortest month of the year. by far, the longest.

fair deuce though... enjoy this dreary january wednesday, for as long as it may last... and happy 25th to you all! ♥ 

theme january, chosen by kelleyn, on jane's corner view, hosted by francesca.

ps - honestly

 while figuring this month out,
i found
in old saxon slang
january is called  
i assure you   


home is .... {where result imposes}

anybody active in renovations, at any one stage, knows how much time one spends in thinking up solutions, chosing materials, dividing the works, assessing the progress, liking the result. 

{or plain freaking out.} 
this is not a post about all that, albeit the image wants to boast a little about houses, in progress. ☻

tomorrow is the draw of the tinyWOOLF giveaway. tinyWOOLF, the shoppe, is counting down too. first things first though. 
come check here tomorrow. 
this post will have worked itself into a result.

[and wishing all participants good, good luck. ♥]

drawing | bundle

these bundles of falling light caught me by surprise, last july, in the V&A, london, uk. the installation hung over a sidewing staircase and made me swoon. 
if one were able to catch the light at all (oh! blessed wish), then standing, just waiting for the light to fall over one's head, could have been a way to do it. letting the light envelope one's patient soul. 

drawing a bundle of joy, of light... unexpectedly worked out. i thought i would have had to sleep on it, but no. i did see some light shine. ☻ 
rachel holds many bundles, just this weekend. scoot!

also this weekend last chance giveaway.

ceiling (111-8) {vintage wallpaper musings}

for those who wonder if i'm carrying my camera everywhere. rest assured. i don't. what i do do is get it when the image grabs me. i have to, don't i? what if i let the moment slip and forsake to document the obvious?
for those who wonder if i take my camera up on the ladder? i do. i hope i don't scare you. i often scare myself, i'm prone to vertigo. so how do i do it? i don't honestly know. heraldism? challenge? stupidity? i should learn from my mistakes.
but when i'm standing high, i can touch the sky, or at least the ceiling. nice view up there!
woolf, 19/01/11

corner view ≈ black & white

a while ago, before we moved to our new, old house, we lived closer to the river, which cuts right through our small town. i find living in different areas appealing, since changing angles lead to quite different and unexpected hikes. 

one of my favourite walks used to be alongside the river embankment, up a steep slope, cutting through small woods and ending up over the railway, in a pretty desolated open field. 

on one of such walks, i took images in a soft toned, near black & white, which left ample room to the imagination, in the afterthought of mentioned itineray. come to {re}think of it, i might just hit that road again, this morning!
black and white theme on jane's corner view, hosted by francesca.

today's toast

the best ideas cook up at dawn. do they? 
i'm dreaming of a few cheese nibbles and garlic yoghurt. furthermore fresh trout mousse (smoked trout + sour cream + black pepper + lemon juice) on sourdough toast. 
add a small handful of yellow cherry tomatoes for colour. 
too right: tomatoes in winter.... not so ecologically sound. refreshing though!

drawing | tea time

just losening up 
a bit.
woolf is tiny 
and experimenting.
in between 
tea and cake{s}...
no red riding hood 
for me ...

... but mixing,

... flour, 
and butter,
and sugar 
and cream.

all through  


 ♪♪ h i c c u p ♫♪


of mice and (wo)men

i feel generally unconcerned by skittish mice, or even just the one. i have a thought on one in my parents house, pattering over the central heating piping one summer's day, long before stuart little saw any light shining. blinking at me, it soon disappeared off to greener pastures. no, i am a one perturbed by spiders. writing down the word feels like tempting fate. mice, and other rodents, don't faze me. unless

i sit watching a movie, relaxed, drowsing perhaps, until i hear a gnawing sound. alarmingly on edge, i am informing the reader that above my head is PLAIN ceiling and a FULLY timbered down mezzanine. but for space, i presume, between ceiling and wooden planking. i start about, the edina way. is the scratching rodent working its skiving way through the hidden ceiling beams? are our mezzanine days numbered? 

the next day, in full daylight, our charles dickens atmosphere subsiding, i am left with the riddle of how the rodent got up there? more pressingly perhaps, how are we going to unburden stuart the second of its predicament?

corner view ≈ ring out the old

i thought i heard the song last december, as it probably gets air play at least once a year. i never realised either, this prooved to be a song with sparse lyrics. ☻ which isn't true at all for alfred, lord tennyson's original words, starting a tradition from the 1850's. year after year and on the occasion of the turn of a new year, by different people around the world, the poem gets recited. {george harrison only turned it a little trivial, and popular.}

enough said. the winter turn and the new year. it has started and it feels wonderful already! does it for you too? the very new in this here, our new, old house, is the addition of a tiny shop, in case you didn't know that already. to justify my marketing babble, there lies a comfort in ackowledging the fact : there's a            · giveaway ·  running. 

ring out the old, ring in the new! ♥

renee chose this week's challenging theme, on jane's corner view, hosted by francesca

o'georgia, o'rachel!

at the end of a dreary but comfortingly wet day at the office, i stumble home upon the world. it lies on the concrete floor and looks a little chilled. i press the parcel to my chest, before i carefully pry it open. out pop guardedly wrapped layers of bits and bobs to start me off, dreaming. here i find : rachel and kids, 

all images by rachel fannin

the postcards giveaway, by rachel, showing her dab hand at and good eye for what goes on here and there (many thanks, once again!), 

a reminder of what it is that matters... and last but not least a (cookery) book on, or more precisely by georgia o'keeffe. what can i say? it kicks open an unexpected door on food filosophy, at a time in my life i am questioning my relationship with food, receiving an acclaimed artists' reflection in the bargain. 

overwhelmed. ♥