Vintage shirt via eBay; Somedays Lovin' Shibori Kingswoods jeans; Spell Prism Bomb necklace and Spell crystal ring; Little Pieces of Hope antler necklace; all other jewellery vintage/markets.

Usually I don't mind leaving home-home and coming back to the city.
But this time, I've got the meanest case of homesickness I think I've ever had. I don't know if it's pure restlessness and discontent, or the fact that my sister has moved home and my whole family is now in the one place, or that Scotty and Humble are both up on the coast still... or even just the fact that Mercury is in retrograde, but damn, I just want to go home.
I'm just not sure at the moment about what is important -- is it being close to those you love, or setting up your life independent of them?
Anyway, that's all a bit heavy. Meanwhile, my mum can grow a gnarly moss garden and a crazy array of succulents, and I'm going to listen to Creedence, kick back and wait for everything to sort itself out.

Instead of my usual weekly sketchbook-peek photo essays, I thought I'd do a quick little film... In the weird blue shade at my parents' farm and, damn, I wish I'd tied my hair up before I started filming the flip-through.

I'd love to do another one of these soon, but it's a bit hard when I tend to draw on crazily different-sized pages all the time (and consequently lose them)... Travelling with one A5 sketchbook made me consistent, and my work a bit more journalised.

But anyway, while I was in Vimeo uploading the above video, I watched this again for the first time in ages... I really have to do another installment of this type of video soon. I can't believe how much my style has evolved over the past year (if not my attitude -- like the 'fucker' tattoo? Maybe still harbouring some NIN influences leftover from high school).

Windsor Smith Envy boots; Somedays Lovin jeans; Evil Twin Lizard Queen knit; Somedays Lovin Bless Texas bra; Spell and the Gypsy Collective Prism Bomb necklace; Little Pieces of Hope antler necklace; Spell and the Gypsy Collective rings; vintage glasses, ram skull and rings.

Today I'm flying back to Melbourne, and leaving the farm mentally kicking and screaming. It's been such a nice stay, which makes it doubly hard to leave my family and head back to the cold city. 

But, you can't sit in front of the fire and drink spiced rum and eat cake all day. Nor can you spend weeks on end wandering through succulent gardens and across paddocks and along near-deserted beaches. Or hours walking along country roads and collecting antiques and bones and feathers.

Or... maybe my parents are on to something. 

I always leave the farm wandering why I live in a city, but I guess there are reasons. 

I'll just have to think about it.