Tales of St Johns Wort…

I woke from a dream; a potent and distracting mix of jittery nerves, and dark fog like mist swirling through my head and fixing my body in a clay like position, frozen in sleep paralysis, not lifted ┬áby the dark heavy cumulus nimbus ominous outside my window, where I’d hoped for April sunshine. My dream…

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i like collections: upcycled maps and spices, storytelling and art

i like collections of things, little clusters of detail and intricacy, with gleaming colours and words, meanings, articulated or symbolised. For me both herbs and plants, and stories are like this, glittering cellular collections of detailed constituents, if arranged in an aesthetically appealing array then magic can happen, great swathes of physical and emotional disarray…

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