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About a year and a half ago I decided to not care about the end result of my drawings (childish at best) and draw some pictures of our days as a family. Back then, I was staying at home and had a nice rhythm of making the day’s page after dinner, while the boys scribbled and made their usual mess on the table next to me. The drawing supplies were permanently set out on our large house, next to the fireplace.


Fast forward to now, in a new house, back to full time work, and the priority after dinner has shifted to straight to bath&bed time as mommy has to get up before dawn… However, I do miss our closing of the day with a visual recapitulation, and although I try to record as much as I can when I have the time and energy, it isn’t daily and more often than not it is just the black ink, with the hope to add the color in the future. Sure enough, last Saturday I got lucky and everyone else slept in, so I went back to the last uncolored pages and added a new one.


The boys absolutely love to sit next to me and read our family storybook. I believe it helps them remember these moments while they are still able to remember them, and it is my hope that they manage to keep in their memories those days through their own experiences and memory, rather than through stories told to them.

The special and memorable days are nice to keep and record, but when it comes to stretching my creativity and loveliness of content, it is the everyday, nothing-special days that matter the most to me, the moments and details that pass unnoticed, taken for granted, that otherwise would not be recorded.



I have been dealing with sketches at work recently. Lots of sketches, incredibly beautiful and expressive sketches, that are truly a joy to play with. As someone who was never particularly good at drawing, just looking at them amazes me and inspires me. It also makes me think a lot of my high school years, when I spent endless hours drawing cartoon stories while (sometimes) listening to the teachers’ lectures. Ehm..

So, where am I going with all that?
It must be because of some odd crossing of wires between sketches, cartoons, and my new shoes, that something has been needling me insistently in the last couple of days.

Admittedly, only one other person on earth will understand this, but that’s what my new shoes remind me of:


In crafty news, I have eventually decided upon an edging for the long-suffering blanket I am sure everyone is sick of hearing about.

So I spent two episodes of Charmed working on it, while Skid supervised

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