Reading voraciously, (especially by candlelight at moonrise); writing; music; gardening, (I adore my garden, and spend as much time in there as I can, growing herbs and roses, and listening to the land whisper its secrets). Bookshelves groaning with books, with hours ahead to explore them; fairytales; magical realism; rain on a tin roof; jasmine-scented sheets; Victorian gothic (and neo-Victorian) lit; Beauty as a spiritual path; kindness; avocados; dark chocolate; Earl Grey tea; just tea in general; John O’Donohue; fresh ginger; red lipstick; Spectacle; wild oceans, forests, and mountains, (preferably all in one place); druidry; hedge witchery; feminism; philosophy; wind chimes; permaculture; one-pot “peasant” food; lilac, violet, heliotrope, orchid; gaelic; Pablo Neruda; ghost gums; Southern Gothic & Australian Gothic; 1930’s fashion; Paris and Berlin in the 1920s & ’30s, (not that I was there).
cinema; wood stoves; Baroque; shamanism; loving what you have, (your people, your body, your home, your life), dignity, frocks; people with backbone; loyalty; courage; animals, (most of them, actually – although I’m not terribly fond of chimps); poetic justice; Dr Who; Margo Lanagan, Toni Morrison; Ursula le Guin; Thomas Hardy (brilliant tragedian); Victor Hugo; Frida Kahlo; Patti Smith; singing; choirs; knitting…sometimes, (I get restless with repetition); incense: sandalwood, kyphi, nag champa; tarot; Noir; red wine; vardos; burlesque; a hearty appetite; witchy-ness; walking everywhere; astrology; dry humour; black humour; medieval humour; thresholds; op-shops; Veronica Lake, Rita Hayworth; dancing; yoga; tumultuous clouds in a rococo sky; the darkest phase of the moon, during the velvet hour of mist and sorrows, when the sun has left the mountain. Mystery; magick; mayhem. The Brontës; all things 18th Century, (I think I may at least in part, belong there); candlelight. Pianos; piano shawls; piano accordions; fiddles; fire opals; obsidian. And the sweet, quiet Earth.
The fact is, I have many enthusiasms and am easily diverted. I tend to flit from one thing to another in dilettante fashion, according to my curiosity. But my first loves, to which I always return, are literature and music. Stories are my truest home.