tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28980805093811404792024-02-07T23:40:18.682+11:00Her Ink Collection..Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18414242141985378801noreply@blogger.comBlogger4125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2898080509381140479.post-11555136703589922022010-03-07T19:48:00.006+11:002010-03-07T22:20:58.967+11:00Tomorrow..<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7TWKgPzprx-X-tccZaf2Heo8V7g7XLET7VpIiZyO5kGh-o7UGc21itPM7YjKsSSILeXmj-kGokqIl4n63gU4EYxaaEA-bMELDI4bPxUHfdKcHk8jWBAxorolZZ3J9zngvufwAMa4-IFf8/s1600-h/birdcage.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7TWKgPzprx-X-tccZaf2Heo8V7g7XLET7VpIiZyO5kGh-o7UGc21itPM7YjKsSSILeXmj-kGokqIl4n63gU4EYxaaEA-bMELDI4bPxUHfdKcHk8jWBAxorolZZ3J9zngvufwAMa4-IFf8/s400/birdcage.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445811340063037826" border="0" /></a>And she wondered where the month had gone, how it could have slipped through her fingers. The leaves would soon begin to fall and the notebook in her hand was not yet full. She knew the words were within her, it was just a matter of letting them out. Tomorrow she decided, she would open the cage to her soul.. tomorrow.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">...<br /><br /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18414242141985378801noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2898080509381140479.post-86415003327849513742010-01-31T14:55:00.002+11:002010-01-31T15:09:00.319+11:00Wildflowers..<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6M0XzZFb_v6HZLPCeR4vqFRYmbsNGnmjo57BszZWNDWI0TY30__ehEpaH7VSqvvob6u_m-r9aPOp1dHR1aUAxhK6J0cS6aWkGOoSMbJ6D7RM3ciuXLmliS49HrSb2LEDzLO-0kpo4OJy-/s1600-h/daisies.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 294px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6M0XzZFb_v6HZLPCeR4vqFRYmbsNGnmjo57BszZWNDWI0TY30__ehEpaH7VSqvvob6u_m-r9aPOp1dHR1aUAxhK6J0cS6aWkGOoSMbJ6D7RM3ciuXLmliS49HrSb2LEDzLO-0kpo4OJy-/s400/daisies.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432749393998052834" border="0" /></a>She dreamed of daises and fields of wildflowers, a little place to call her own. Nestled under a maple tree, beside the brambly hedges she would sit and fill her notebooks, with the songs of her heart.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">....<br /><br /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18414242141985378801noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2898080509381140479.post-6454651508043362492010-01-18T20:31:00.004+11:002010-01-18T20:38:12.368+11:00The morning sunshine..<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1Pv-8GxUqkSVlwdId83yZilhKjrcUmXyJpSPfDi0X5pun_owGv0Q-eOj2ap2QuV-5n5rXDE5TRzeJzjK5bSQvD1Uw6_U8dbO7g1XljrATUgBBgatYXhtU7t_d5xjvpxC4HyENTG6Vpa_Y/s1600-h/typewriter.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 302px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1Pv-8GxUqkSVlwdId83yZilhKjrcUmXyJpSPfDi0X5pun_owGv0Q-eOj2ap2QuV-5n5rXDE5TRzeJzjK5bSQvD1Uw6_U8dbO7g1XljrATUgBBgatYXhtU7t_d5xjvpxC4HyENTG6Vpa_Y/s400/typewriter.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428011582594349170" border="0" /></a><br />The was something about the morning sunshine.. It was as if her faithful typewriter would suddenly play its own tune. Some mornings by the open window it almost knew the words before she had begun to tap the rusty keys.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">...<br /><br /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18414242141985378801noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2898080509381140479.post-47760155739227814602010-01-05T16:05:00.000+11:002010-01-05T18:47:46.483+11:00And so it begins...Finally the mail has arrived and inside a sweet little package from <a href="http://notemaker.com.au/">Notemaker</a> were six very delightful moleskine cahier journals just waiting to be stained with ink.<br /><br />And so my year of writing begins.. with some words from 'Writing Down the Bones' my soul sings as the words pour onto the page.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_hqs5OY8f1QfCsfgBwIPTw7KkvOjjFf1cSwiNTml21UKZgrXS3A2EGsxEZLHb63G1XzeyG3VvRRGjuphZagEnvXQRVbIFXpYTOT6U6-_LRXXudab9hwZzc3_uG0cO3TTR1fise-Wdav70/s1600-h/day1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 304px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_hqs5OY8f1QfCsfgBwIPTw7KkvOjjFf1cSwiNTml21UKZgrXS3A2EGsxEZLHb63G1XzeyG3VvRRGjuphZagEnvXQRVbIFXpYTOT6U6-_LRXXudab9hwZzc3_uG0cO3TTR1fise-Wdav70/s400/day1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423118444479574098" border="0" /></a>The adventure begins...<br /><br /><br /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18414242141985378801noreply@blogger.com9