DAYS OF SUMMER

Misty mornings at the summerhouse. White curtains so thick, sounds from the other side. Cold hands of the mist around everything, tree branches with drops like rain. Slowly the first sun rays arrive to glimmer on the lake waves. The curtains open, the show begins.

Every day more green, here and there. Yellow and blue flowers. Sleeping inside forests, their melodies. 

Night time swimming. Swans dancing and singing.

Darling friends, ice-cream, ladybirds ♥

Small spontaneous expeditions, many talks.

Almost blooming lily-of-the-valleys, the scent is already here. Fragile, the most refined.

Summer.

Have sweet expeditions!

(1st, 4th and 5th photos by photographer and cinematographer J.V.)

WHITE PAGES

Books that were bound by hand, carried many thousand kilometres. Accompanied on park benches and in trains. Always open on the table.

Inside: stories, calendars, envelopes, notes, measurements, chances and memories.

The first ideas and the originals.

Walks that were collected and pressed.

Houses, always houses. Homes.

Pages that were ripped away and taped back again. Adventures, flora.

The moments when brushing teeth, humming and washing dishes. The moments when the humming echoes from the dish shelves. Dummies, scraps of this and that. Conversations. Secrets. Dreams.

More of my sketchbook stories at Design*Sponge, a series that I had the honour to begin.

Three new prints in the small online shop. Thank you so much once again for your orders!

It is warm and sunny here. What about bicycling to fetch an apple and an ice-cream for a late afternoon break?

MY MOTHER, MINUN ÄITINI, MAMMA MÍN

Many flowers to my mother and grandmothers. A little bit late.

Happy Mother's Day! 

♥

P.s. Earlier: 2012, 2011, 2010

SOUTH SPRING POSTCARDS II

Happy May!

Sunday with small raindrops after a Saturday with silent movies accompanied by real musicians. Black and white scenes of Sunrise, score played live by Giovanni Spinelli with one electronic guitar. The moments to get inspired. To see and hear how beautiful it can be.

More postcards from the Southern spring trip. Village passers-by, fruits of plum trees grew by looking at them. Smiling face, lighthouse hunting. The familiar patterned stripes of grandmother´s hands drying in the Southern sunset. In a fruit garden.

Mellow Sunday melodies!