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Secrets

This is where I talk about more personal “stuff” – because we are all so much more than the work that we do from 9 to 5…

On a personal note

I am an avid reader, fish-hugger (compare with “tree-hugger”), scuba diver, sailor, star gazer, storyteller, long-distance walker, puppeteer, ukulele player, writer, classicist, multiplier, starter, and morning person working on being “vegan-ish”.

I love walking barefoot, jumping in puddles, losing myself in a good book, bringing people together, throwing parties, cycling around town in a sundress and a big hat, drinking wine, history, vivid colours, cooking up a storm, the ocean, birdsong, basil, writing, illustrating, walking (not hiking), people-watching, tea, playing with words, paying it forward, growing chillies, making perfume, telling stories and finding sustainable ways to travel the world.

Personal projects currently include:

oral storyteller

Telling wise, witty and wonderful tales to (mostly) adult audiences.

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7 is the Magic Number

A weekly roundup of 7 (+-2) articles that  have discovered in my quest to get out of my “bubble” and read more widely.

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notes

A notes to self blog that might be useful to others.

See notes →

tiny mindful creator

Creating the space for tiny, mindful moments.

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artist

I love colour and the ocean, and I am currently working on a project that involves sea urchins.

Watch this space.

innsbruck reads

I run an open-access book club in Innsbruck.

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performance artist

Currently working on a new puppet show featuring Taryn and Tarquin.

Watch this space.

podcaster

I sporadically record podcasts.

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writer

When I have time, I write researched pieces on places and subjects that interest me. The one of which I am most proud is about Ponte in Johannesburg →

Notes

Daily note. Sailing in Ionian 2025.

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Sunrise over a yacht in a tiny cove. Francis’ paintings brought to life. Whiff of goats over a cup of tea, as they clamber the rocky slopes and pebble-beach shore. An easy departure. A creased, folded, and eventually stuck mainsail. Anchoring off Poros beach. It’s swell. There is swell. Rocking. Rolling. Heat. Sleep. Coca Cola. Bare-breasted swimming to cool down. Hell, bare everything: no one here but us fish. Swell dies down to gentle swaying. Sun withdraws. Cool. Peaceful. Voices echo from the shore. Looking out into the Mediterranean, no horizon to be seen. Still. A flying fish breaks the surface briefly, skimming the surface of the sea. Skip, skip, skip. Now the surface is unbroken.

Daily note. Sailing the Ionean.

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Wake surrounded by massive catamarans. So much wealth in this bay. Hard to believe that we live in a world filled with wicked probems. Hot tea. Route planning. Ithaca to Cephalonia. Still. Windless. But cool. Wasps are back. Seeking sweet water in my hair, on my feet, between my fingers holding a mug. Movement paused as their wings brush my skin. Smooth departure, no sailing. Without wind, power propells us forward over the glass-like sea. Arrive in a tiny cove, any space? Only 3 boats possible. We claim the last available spot. Careful. Too slow. Not completely prepared. Embarrassed. Worried about causing bother. M stressed. Help arrives from neighbouring boat. More speed, the check anchor. Turn faster. Secure. Day boats arrive and leave again. The whole bay is ours. Swim. Warm surface water blends with chilly (fresh?) water. Tiny fish dart past. A flounder! Evening comes, with friendly Danes. Watching the beach. Goats emerge. Goats drink sea water, apparently. Rocks appear nearer that befoe. Anchor safe? Will landlines hold? Where is the NW wind. No wind tonight. Curled up reading Matter by Iain M Banks. M drapes a sheet over me, goes to watch stars. It is fully dark when bed beckons, aside from our mast light and the backlight of my book as I try to finish a few more pages.

Podcasts