wanderlust

We arrive in Buenos Aires after 25 hours of exhausting travel and catch a taxi into the city. The roads are fast and chaotic, a busy hive of a busy city. The taxi takes us to our hostel in a back street, the narrow pavement is cracked and decaying but the beautiful European inspired buildings tower proudly above, watching over the city.

Bang-Bang-Bang!! Bang-Bang-Bang!!!

The hostel is quiet, we peer in through the cracks in the newspaper lining the windows and alas! The hostel is chained closed, out-of-business.

Bryce and I instantly feel the magnitude of a city singing in Spanish and our deaf ears ache. We take off in search of a home for the night.

Bellies full and sleepy eyes rested we awake the next morning and readjust ourselves for our next adventure. Off of San Telmo, the bohemian suburb of the city, to find a hostel home.

The city amuses us, at every corner we see mirages of cafes and life, chasing the pavement we then realise we have only reached another empty building. Blinking with confusion we set off again.

The city is sprawling and we find it difficult to find ourselves. Occasionally we stumble upon a string of shops and cafes and marvel delighted. Our Spanish is horrendous but the locals accommodate us with snippets of English, a lot of hand movements and kind smiles.

After lunch the heavens swell and darken and split. Mother nature hammers the city. And us. We walk laughing, drenched. Blissfully happy.

Time deceives us here; breakfast at mid day, lunch in the early hours of the evening and late hours spent enjoying the fast ferocious city.

Love J x

Time for a change.



Irene Suchocki


I swing gently in my hammock. My place. My favourite pastime. And it has been so long! 

I have enjoyed this cozy winter; hot baths that sting the skin and the changes in the trees, but now I wait for spring.


I can feel the shift internally as my body begins to crave more water, citrus fruit and salad and my skin aches to be exposed to the elements.

Goosebumps prickle my arm in the crisp breeze, and smooths again as the sun heats my skin, the smell of the warm air tempts me with promises of days spent in the water and late hot nights outside. Times spent with friends, that will become memories I treasure. The anticipation of a new season, and the adventures to be had, is almost too much.



Irene Suchocki



Dragonflies make love in the sunshine, hovering with graceful expertise! The garden has started to bloom, lavender attracts bees and my secret garden hums. Everything is lush and green from the rain and spring is about to burst; creating chaotic overgrowth once more. I cannot wait.

As I lay I watch the webs that adorn the hammock snap and break free, the long wispy threads twinkle in the sun, they move like hair in water, masses of delicate strands. Truely beautiful.

The sun dips behind a cloud and I instantly feel cool; reminding me. Patience. I await the sun.

Love J x

It began with two lovers...

Passionate and free. Limitless boundaries. Delicate and marvelous. Love to never cease. And then... New Life. 

A beautiful mystery buried and blooming within the depths of our souls.

Intrincially linked, now and forever. Anticipation. Wonder.  A tiny life created by two lovers.

Becoming a Mama encouraged my 'best version' to step forward. Everything changed. I surrounded myself with all the good that this world has to offer. Lifestyle. Food. People. Thought. Creativity. Love.

An incredible journey of self discovery and appreciation. He teaches me something new every day. He lives presently, in this moment. Right now. Learning to live that way has been enlightening. I still stumble but he is patient and only happy to show me the way once more.

I marvel as two years fly. And the rest. The potential. The possibility. All that is yet to come.

A big and bright life, created by two lovers.

For all the Mama's past, present and future.

Love J x

Winter.

We have been house bound for days. Avoiding the weeping sky and boisterous wind. Watching birds struggle in flight with slick wet feathers. Wrapped in cosy layers, we hibernate.

It's delicious.


isphotography.myshopify.com/


The slow cooker bubbles, the oven roasts, the kettle boils.

My little boy and I eat our dinner in a steaming hot bath, its all snuggle, gobble, love, warm kisses. Blankets are strewn all over the house, remnants of sleepy clothing, woolly socks and fleecy slippers.

Winter leapt with full force this weekend, and we are lucky enough to enjoy its bluster from a cherished warm hearty home.

We watch the trees in the distance dance and run on our deck for wind swept thrills. Our little boy cackles with appreciation.

The young trees in our garden sway dangerously, threatening to snap and the shrubs perform endless Mexican waves.

This is our simple bliss.

Love J x

Wild Flowers

The morning was spent enjoying the last moments of the summer sunshine. The morning was spent picking flowers that streamed endlessly through our secret garden.

The sweetest scent. The comforting warmth. The dearest morning had by two wonderers.

isphotography.myshopify.com

The change of season had already claimed our early mornings and evenings.

We revelled and huddled in the brisk air. We rugged up in blankets. Layered ourselves in soft fabric.
This day had brought clarity and a welcome peaceful rest, it was time to stop and smell the wild flowers! 

Love J x

Room to breathe

isphotography.myshopify.com

We wake from childish deep sleep. Still-shots of wild vivid dreams flicker beneath my eye lids. At once we set off for the ocean. All tousled bed hair and sleepy smiles.

We can smell it before we see it, hear it before we touch it. We long for it.

We wander the shore line and play chase with the waves, we smile at the sparkling ocean and I wish I could capture the sparkles in a jar to gaze upon forever.

Here we lose track of time. Here we have room to breathe.

Love J x

A moment. A lifetime.

It began before that day. That day, in that moment.

But it was within those moments, that seemed innocuous at the time, that something began. Something real and genuine and lasting. Something that would change everything, given the time to do so.

It was a rush and a burst, a bubble and a pop! It was an adventure and excitement. It was the never ending summer of the best times that had been yet.

It was weekends that lasted a moment. And work days that lasted a lifetime. It was traversing mountain sides. It was mid night walks. Early mornings and late nights. It was evading fatigue.

Winter crept in and with it the world expanded. It became icy dips in the ocean. Breath sucked violently from lungs. Life was potent. It was clinging to your warm body, extracting your heat. It was bliss.

Upon reflection, those times seemed like the happiest there had been, until now. 

Until I see your face, so familiar it could be my own. I hear your voice, it is etched into my mind. I feel your touch, so tender on my skin.

These are the best days. And this is always the best moment.

Love J x

Shh the earth is quiet

Barefoot, dew clinging to our toes, leaving only the sound of our breath. Gently padding beneath the trees, squinting up at the sun rising from another world. The heat warming the rich earth beneath our feet, the heat that will burn our fragile skin in later hours.



http://isphotography.myshopify.com/

Bathing in the scent of fruit warming upon the trees branches and the everlasting melody of crickets, birds and cicadas. Our daily meeting under the trees, we welcome ourselves to this day and stretch and yawn playfully, remembering why we are here.

Love J x

The Lovely Listening Ears

To the lovely listening ears, the little heart spoke. Singing its tale of woe. Its all a little sad. A little raw. Hold it together little heart, just for a moment more. Not long now little heart. The soft words will make sense. You will hear them little heart. You are just a little tense. You will see the truth little heart. Sit comfortable within the embrace. Nod your head little heart. No need for that worst case. A shift in perspective and once more all is well. The little heart is light and those lovely listening ears can tell.

Love J x

I wish for...

I wrote this when I was pregnant.

Endless summers and delicate evening rain. Spring time spent in our forest, whisper fairy tales until they become so real we can see them. Watch the sunset upon this day and sip warm tea. Listen to the music of life and lay down each night to feel your heart flutter so close to mine. Contented bliss always with us. I wake in anticipation of our next adventure. You reveal perfection and joy and the key to my mind.
Lets remain like this forever.  

Love J x

The singing man

Tempting my mind from its thoughts came a song from a stranger. I glanced sideways.


Photography by Nirrimi
www.nirrimi.com

A man. Singing. Walking towards me grinning. He began a vocal guitar solo and rather than smile politely and carry on...I opted to dance!

Evoking childish play, void of social barriers, we both rocked out. 

He finished his solo and said with gusty passion; "You are a radiant being filled with love and light." And on that note continued along his way. Walking and singing.

I reflected upon this lively hiatus and the freedom I had just experienced.

Like the freedom found when expressing an original thought, or when breaking the mould with a delicious, rebellious moment, or claiming creativity with an authentic smile.

I saw that man at his full potential. I didn't know what baggage he carried or what story he had to tell, I didnt know his secret vice or bad habit(s). I just enjoyed the person he was in that moment.

Dancing to a strangers song felt like freedom to me.

Love J x

Under the Oak

An old house nestled under the leaves of an oak. My eyes are drawn along the terracotta pathway to the entrance. I want to touch that door, feel the grains and cracks and open the black rusty lock.

I picture the inside. The walls would whisper to me and the floor would creak and moan.


Photography by Nirrimi
http://www.nirrimi.com/

I imagine lounging on the deck. Dinner parties under fairy lights and lanterns. Chasing knee highs along the fence line. We would have a claw foot bath in the garden and when summer stung our skin we would fill it and sit, singing merrily. We would camp under the canopy,  collect her leaves, watch her change season and love her more each time. Our hair would grow long, your beard too and we would dance often.

In winter we would rush from the steaming hot water to the open fire. Standing until our back and bottom glow warm red. We would sleep in that big old bed and dream of secrets from another land. Safe and sleepy, our sanctuary under the Oak.

Love J x

Our Children

We lay our hot restless skin down and drift into slumber, this moment I capture, and when I feel big, absorbed and scared, you remind me that I am still small. 


Photography by Nirrimi
www.nirrimi.com

For this I am always thankful.

Love J x

Endless Love

I passed a sipping man sitting with an old bicycle outside a little cafe. His long beard and eye brows, coarse and white. His tanned skin creased from the harsh sun.

He smiled a brilliant white smile and winked. Had I not been myself, cursed with curiosity-ruled by shyness, I would have stopped for a chat.

So inspired by that twinkle in his eye, I have written his story for him...

He can't help himself, he falls in love so easily, slipping into the depths of that awful joyful roller coaster, the clash of his head and his heart. He has never stayed in one place for long enough for him to know what could become of this love, he leaves, sadly but with a relief that the love will never end. Left suspended in an eternity of what-ifs and who knows.

His Mama always said he would meet his match, a wild and free woman would capture his heart and he would have to chase her rather than run. He laughed at this. His Mama, his only constant woman.

From a family of 8 children, he grew up in a small terrace in the centre of town, the home sprawled onto the street and into the back alley, everywhere was a dirty bruised knee and a shiny wide smile, everywhere was music and song. His Papa an artist, his Mama worked at a local grocery. Everyday she would bring home fruit and vegetables, eggs and bread left over from the days sales, his Papa would be gone sometimes for weeks at a time, but would always return with pockets full of notes and exciting tales.

His childhood was happy, if not exhausting. He left home young, running from his first love and this led to his life of travelling the world, he suited his chosen lifestyle, happy to fit into whatever situation he found himself in. Happy to leave when he felt the pressure to stay.

He was home for Christmas, the first time in 18 years, his Mama didn't know he was coming and he was sitting here, collecting his thoughts before he went to the small terrace in the centre of town, to the home that sprawled on to the front path and back alley, where he would no doubt find his Mama, Papa, Brothers and Sisters and some number of his Nephews and Nieces. He pondered for another moment and smiled again, that white smile. He stood up, winked and rode his old bike away.

Love J x