October 9, 2013Comments are off for this post.

“My secret for long life is: simplicity”

Shot in Fire Island, New York, this film (4min. 23 sec) captures the secrets of eternal youth as Maia Helles, a Russian ballet dancer turns 95 but still remains resolutely independent, healthy and as fit as a forty year old.

Made by Julia Warr, artist and film maker met Maia on a plane 4 years ago and became utterly convinced by the benefits of her daily exercise routine, which Maia perfected, together with her Mother, over 60 years ago, long before exercise classes were ever invented. (2011)

Film by Julia Warr

Music by Lola Perrin


July 8, 2010Comments are off for this post.

Adeline André



June 21, 2010Comments are off for this post.


  Photograph by Lili Roze which I discovered at beautiful blog Abundance



The world burst out
Of its own maps
And gods changed their names
People talked till Babylon fell
While my heart grew
Into a bitter rose
That bled for you.
I handed you that flower
We did not feast on its perfume together.
It was given to me
By the winged master of Muses
To celebrate a most terrible union
That is called seperation
And is red torment to the
Hundreth power
That is purest and blackest of all

Judith Mok

(poem sent to me  by an angel)

June 15, 2010Comments are off for this post.


Isn't it rich?
Are we a pair?
Me here at last on the ground,
You in mid-air.
Send in the clowns.

Isn't it bliss?
Don't you approve?
One who keeps tearing around,
One who can't move.
Where are the clowns?
Send in the clowns.

Just when I'd stopped
Opening doors,
Finally knowing
The one that I wanted was yours,
Making my entrance again
With my usual flair,
Sure of my lines,
No one is there.

Don't you love farce?
My fault, I fear.
I thought that you'd want what I want -
Sorry, my dear.
But where are the clowns?
There ought to be clowns.
Quick, send in the clowns.

What a surprise.
Who could forsee
I'd come to feel about you
What you'd felt about me?
Why only now when i see
That you'd drifted away?
What a surprise.
What a cliche'.

Isn't it rich?
Isn't it queer?
Losing my timing this late
In my career?
And where are the clowns?
Quick, send in the clowns.
Don't bother - they're here.

Stephen Sondheim

June 8, 2010Comments are off for this post.


Peter O'Brien


'People who make us happy,

 are the charming gardeners who make our souls blossom'

Marcel Proust


May 25, 2010Comments are off for this post.

Never to old to learn

Piano whistler James Whistler  - At the Piano


'Music expresses that which cannot be put into words and cannot remain silent.'


Victor Hugo


May 17, 2010Comments are off for this post.

Dance of a Goddess

Isadora duncan


'You were once wild here. Don't let them tame you.'

Isadora Duncan

Isadora Duncan's half-naked, nymph-like movements changed the nature of ballet - and anticipated modern choreography.

Remembering Isadora Duncan in The Gaurdian by Judith Mackrell

Photograph originally from Digital Gallery

May 12, 2010Comments are off for this post.

Illustrations by Gustave Dore





  Images from Sur La Lune Fairytales 

Illustrations by Gustave Doré

May 10, 2010Comments are off for this post.


Wendy Bevan


"I discovered that what's really important for a creator isn't what we vaguely define as inspiration or even what it is we want to say, recall, regret, or rebel against.

No, what's important is the way we say it. Art is all about craftsmanship. Others can interpret craftsmanship as style if they wish. Style is what unites memory or recollection, ideology, sentiment, nostalgia, presentiment, to the way we express all that.

It's not what we say, but how we say it that matters."


Federico Fellini



April 13, 2010Comments are off for this post.

Olive Broderick shortlisted for The Hennessy Literary Awards




This is a poem about a moon

that was visible one clear day

in December: three quarters visible -

buttermilk against delphinium -

as framed in a pane of this window:

and a sequence of airplanes

with short contrails, swimming

through the blue, in its direction,

particularly the first seemed sure

to merge with the stationary orb –

but missed it by what looked like

little more that a millimetre.


Olive Broderick