City of Cakes and Culture

It’s exactly a week since I walked into the Stephansdom (St. Stephen’s Cathedral) in Vienna, thinking only to gaze at the magnificent building…….to be greeted, instead, by the most sublime music filling the soaring space. A Haydn mass was in progress, being offered up by the cathedral’s own orchestra and singers. Visitor after visitor was stopped in their tracks - not by some official, regulating the traffic flow; but by the sheer beauty of the sounds flowing up and around us.

Vienna is still every inch a city of music and of culture. It must also be one of the only cities in the world where no-one bats an eyelid if you walk down the street in 18^th century costume. Take a stroll through Austria’s capital and music will greet you at every turn, drifting from churches or the opera house, advertised by posters and by bewigged musicians…….earning a living in the same streets where generations of their kind have before them.

Vienna is also a city of cakes. Exquisite, exquisite cakes. Austrians are famous for their tradition of Kaffee und Kuchen (coffee and cakes) and the patisserie in this grandest of cities is as much a work of art as the imposing and stately buildings are. Coffee houses abound; the too-good-to-eat cakes tempt continually.

But it’s the Haydn mass that arrested me last Sunday morning that will stay with me for the longest. Unexpected, unplanned for, yet touching my soul in a profound way. How incredible! - to write something that can go on moving people in such an extraordinary manner for so many years after you’ve departed this earth. I’m grateful to Herr Haydn and to the musicians of Vienna who keep his music alive. I’m grateful to the architects and builders and maintainers of the Stephansdom for creating a sanctuary where the music can take flight.

A Dank Day

It’s a dank and drizzly kind of day at Dixon Hill. The kind of day when it seems like everything in the world has turned a misty shade of greenish-grey. The kind of day when a girl is very grateful for a tweed coat, a spotted umbrella and a trusty pair of wellingtons.

Unravelling Further

Nothing grounds me more easily or more quickly than paying attention to my senses.  Sometimes, when my thoughts are whizzing off like fireworks in a hundred different directions at once, or when I'm feeling overwhelmed or stressed, I'll pause and ask myself (in no particular order):

What can I see right now?

What can I hear right now?

What can I feel right now?

What can I smell right now?

What can I taste right now?

And there I am: rooted once more, living fully in the only place any of us can ever truly live - the present moment.

This summer, I took Susannah Conway's UNRAVELLING e-course.  It was far and away the best online course I've done.  It brought together an amazingly supportive group of creative women, who cheered each other on through the eight week exploration of ourselves and our individual worlds.  The programme, which uses photography and writing as tools for its excavating, can be dipped in and out of as time allows.  There's no competition or assessment; there are no deadlines.  You can share as much or as little as you choose.  The course was a joy and I highly recommend it.

Today, I'm excited to be starting the follow-up to UNRAVELLING - Susannah's first ever UNRAVELLING FURTHER class.  This one is a six week rollick in the sensual....and I can't wait to get rollicking.  My eyes, ears, nose, tastebuds and touchbuds are all on their marks and raring to go.  And I'm sure some of the photos will find their way here over the next few weeks.

For more information on Susannah's UNRAVELLING courses, go to: http://www.susannahconway.com/e-courses

My Mother's Hands

I’m spending this weekend in the company of my mum. These are her hands. The same hands that nursed and nurtured me, fed me and played with me, performed innumerable services for me, great and small. The hands which taught me to knit, to sew, to embroider, to bake. The hands that stitched dresses for me and my dolls; erected fantasy dens in the back garden on long summer days; helped me create toy houses from cardboard boxes to give away to children who had no parents.

When my mum turned 70, I created a scrapbook for her: a scrapbook of 70 happy memories linking me to her. What took me by surprise, as I recalled the memories that would become the book, was that the overwhelming majority of them involved creativity. The happy memories I have of my mother are nearly all of her creating something for me or with me. No-one could ever doubt where my creative streak comes from.



The hands are gnarled and twisted with arthritis now. They can no longer knit and struggle to sew. But my mum expresses her creativity in other ways - through gardening, through writing, through cooking. And those hands still reach out to pat my arm with love or concern or appreciation.

Today’s post is a simple tribute to honour the hands that have helped shape my life and the woman who passed on skills that other hands taught her. And to renew my own long-standing commitment to pass on the joy of creativity to the next generation.

And So To Sleep.....

Happily, I rarely have any trouble getting to sleep. But for those occasions when sweet slumbers do elude me, I devised - many years ago now - a technique which works like magic every time.

I never shared it with anyone because it never occurred to me that it might work for someone else. I presumed it was just my own little trick. But when, recently, a friend mentioned that she suffered from frequent insomnia, I ventured to proffer my remedy - and she reported that it worked….well, like a dream!

So, in case there should be anyone reading this young blog who finds themselves in a similar predicament to my friend, I offer this tried-and-tested cure (er….tested by two, that is. Could this be what they mean by a double-blind test?):

Concentrate on your breathing. Breathe slowly and deeply. Now, with each out-breath, say to yourself the first gentle and calming word that comes to mind. Say it in a lingering kind of way, and in your mind only - not out loud. Don’t over-think this; just speak the first word that comes to you.

So it goes something like this….

Inhale (SLOWLY)

Exhale (SLOWLY), saying (in your mind, remember….) PEACEFUL

Inhale

Exhale, saying CALM

Inhale

Exhale, saying SERENE

Inhale

Exhale, saying GENTLE

Inhale

Exhale, saying RELAXING

Inhale

Exhale, saying QUIET…..

Zzzzzz

You get the idea. Usually, before I’ve run out of soothing words (there’s another one for you), I’m in the land of Nod. And, if you do run out of fresh words, you can always repeat them. No-one will know!

If you try this, let me know how you get on. I’m thinking of bottling and patenting the Dixon Hill Sleep Solution. J