About Silver Teapots

An old English antique silver teapot is a lovely addition and very Shabby Chic addition in any home. I bought this one the other day. I was looking for something to put fresh cut flowers in for my table. But when I found this Teapot it was black with soot and grime.

What was I thinking? But anyway I decided to clean it only to only to discover it was real Silver…. an old English Silver maker; Mappin and Webb…. and

Just think… I was was going to put flowers in it after I cleaned the ole Mappin; We tested her… Jim heated the water. I watched her steam up nicely, holding in the heat. We poured. A cuppa of Ceylon tea. We added sugar; stirred. I sipped and closed my eyes. The taste was lovely.

It’s not all that hard to keep it in good working order and only requires minimal effort. Regular use and washing will prevent stains and tarnish from developing.

Wash the teapots in warm water with a mild, non-lemon scented dish washing soap, according to the English Silver smiths.

How to Clean a Silver Teapot

Step 1

Wet a cellulose sponge with water and wring it out. If the opening of the teapot is too small for your hand, wrap the sponge around a dowel or small spatula.

Step 2

Apply a quarter-size dollop of silver cleaning cream to the sponge. Silversmiths recommend using Silver Cream as a safe, mild cleaning agent.

Step 3

Rub the inside of the teapot with the sponge to remove tarnish and tea stains. Push the sponge into the teapot with the dowel if necessary.

Step 4

Dip a cotton swab in cleaning cream. Wipe the spout with the cotton swab to clean it.

Step 5

Rinse the teapot in warm water and dry with a soft, lint-free cloth.

Removing Tough Stains

Step 6

Fill teapot with warm water.

Step 7

Drop one denture cleaning tablet in the water. Wait ten minutes. The effervescing action of the denture tablet loosens tough stains and tarnish from the teapot.

Step 8

Pour the water into the sink and rinse the teapot with warm water. Gently brush any remaining stains with a wet brush.

Step 9

Dry the teapot with a soft cloth.

Breadth Height Space

Do you ever stop and take the time to notice the lives of those who have come between when you look into the depths of a painting; or a book, a flower or a sacred place or something you’ve never seen before…

To watch a master lost in a series of the brush strokes; secured, relevant, diligent and with purpose. Perhaps a chance to read the words of the writer who may not be so renown; but that literature is so pensive, engaged, involved and so deep that you can feel the consciousness in their art. Diligent; conscious, a heavenly virtue indicative of great work ethic; that it is to believe that the work is good in itself.

Where you can see the secrets of the heart

That soul inside who is watcher of the painter of constellations perhaps who is not even of this world.

The artist like the poet writes down absolutely every story and images in their head or the dreamer who had an idea; in the belief of concept that one day there would be come, the driverless car.

Dreamers often inspire others and are inspired for they have more ideas than anyone can count. Keeping stashes of drawings, pieces of canvas, notebooks full and paper all over the desk. Scribbled, written potted and painted while away at a distance with imagination.

It’s ever a wonder where the mind can reach; Does an artist wander casually or are the intent with purpose to explore? Where does the mind go when it wonders…is that imagination…

The concept of forming new ideas; the faculty or action of forming images; to conceive the concept of the external; to be so in the present that the senses are so vivid in thought.

To say that a writer can go inside their own book; to enjoy the written word. Do they make it a home within the lines of the poetry they write?

And if for the first time ever, what if I pick up my pen without hesitation, shall I write about the things I love, maybe my infatuation with life, or feelings and anger, hunger and pain, despair…

To weave the elements like threads; interlacing a single distinct concept unit of language; comprising, inflected and of variant forms. That these words come free on the paper; they will just flow out.

Just as the artist draws the facial features on a canvas letting the portrait stare back as if it could see forever; the dreamer inspired ideas; a writer is a word painter, creating word art; sculpting dimensions of thought to length, depth, breath, height and space.

Photo:

St. Peter’s Church

Leuven, Belgium

20 August 2017

Emotions


When he said, “I just want you to stay.” To do whatever it takes to keep me in you my arms. Stay with me even if times are challenging because I know you love me. I know that this is true. 

Working on a Further Leave to Remain to stay here with you. The application process means hundreds of questions; lots of requirements; meeting every one. Submissions of different documents, photos and proofs; it’s really me; it is a true test of wills where the equation is patience, endurance and emotions. 

Why does the truth require proof. I guess it means there are emotional forces here aligned with the strategy and purpose. I know the universe exist; Do I really need to know how the entire universe works? Can it be simplified into equations? 

I think some people speak as if the universe is something to be solved, but not experienced. Somehow I don’t believe equations take into factor human nature; or how we as humans tend to navigate by emotion and not always by logic or proof.

Logic if too constrained by rules is fundamentally flawed when applied to anything with a heart of its own because the heart is organic; yet a living matter. I am living matter. We are. And organic, with heart; perfect and flawed. 


So, I’ll get to stay 
Excited about what may
So we’ll never be apart
You have my whole heart
You are enough proof 
Love for all you do
Answer to the equation 
Love needs no explanation 
For you; This I am grateful;
Thankful…
For you; 
Emotion.

The Garden


We talk and in conversations where I take everything in. We talk about everything; sometimes all night and then there are days, when we are just content to be together. 

I love our walks through the park with the dogs. They take us through the flowering trees in the botanical gardens. I think about how much happiness this garden has brought to many.  


There I consider how much the trees towers over us. I love how rough the bark feels under my touch. How they flower and thrive even in the most extreme weather. How the boughs of blossoms stretch out over our heads as it begins to rain; the trees sheltering us from the sudden bursts. How they can stand there; to be still and silent, with the calmness of one; This garden is over a hundred years old. They have seen the way of the world. 


I look and wonder how much this garden has seen, and I think about all the ones who have come and gone; only to adorn it’s beauty. The life of these flowers has survived the years. It’s astonishing how seen the lives and how many moments have been played out around them. Life, loves and all the tears, the laughter and even the poets sitting near them as they write, pondering their next line, the next simile, or the next metaphor.


There is something about the calm and quietness about this garden that makes me feel safe and comforted. Maybe it’s just the way the flowers reach out for attention that is so comforting.  


These words are just some of my thoughts well sanded maybe repetitive; perhaps to be put away into a jar a collection of memories. I will always cherish our walks and talks in this garden and in this park and sharing feelings. Its when held to the eye and we can look and listen; appreciating that right here in Wales that I find there are so many colours for everything and some things don’t change and I’m grateful for being right here with you in this garden. I love that!

Light Captured


The sudden light of cloudburst sprinkles and pastel hues and hopscotch lines creating rainbow designs is the question in the artists eyes while nature answers to her why’s; what is this Light?
Is it electromagnetic radiation that is visible and perceivable by the human eye?
Is it the colours between red and violet.
Does it have frequencies of terahertz, wavelengths and nanometers; equal to one billionth of a metre?
Is there is the sensation of perceiving light; it is brightness and sudden light; the medium of illumination…is that what makes sight possible.
There is the illumination where it’s derived from a source of light; the light from the moon and the pathway of light and when illumination of another when standing in the light.
There is daylight, dawn and daybreak and windows that admit illumination in with architecture and openings that divide panes in a glass.
What about the light that provides information or clarification to research that produces new light on a question. Enlightenment, brightness and countenance.
Light can be a state of awareness or understanding derived from the light of an experience and Spiritual awareness. Is it possible there light can be a guiding spirit or divine presence in each of us?
Perhaps light is a way of looking at or considering a matter; an aspect or perhaps even a way to see into a situation in a different light.
To understand other’s individual opinions means to allow choices and standards; to accept the capacities of others with those who act according to their own light and with equal respect of those who are different. Could that be the light of insight; of understanding, information, and ideas.
They say light is a being; a form of energy; that light creates light and when another form of energy is supplied; There it becomes incandescence. It’s the vibration of entire atom and that luminescence comes from the electron.
This light of energy is illuminating just as the sun enlightens the earth. With light and energy it becomes clear to the intellect or conscience allowing us to shed the light of truth and knowledge.
With the increase of knowledge; it enlightens the mind and our understanding; easing heavy burdens and difficulties we bare; borne and done. That is to be that one who we seek to be; light of heart; graceful, agile and light.
To be that one light even it’s only to that one person; or to the many they inspire; or the one whom we adore. To be the one who lights up our lives and gives it back in return. It is that kind of light that sets us on fire; it is an igniting, a kindling and a burning and a receiving of light.

I watch the sun late in the afternoon, nature and the woods luminous with golden beams streaming through the trees, answering my questions while capturing nature in this light.

Thank you for reading.

Still Paris


Why is it France that sometimes beckons me

Paris whispers, I  wave, and she cries,

Listening to sounds of her calling us back

Waves of leaving never needing to say goodbye

A last smile before into the oceans crept,

Like waters blanketing tears that she wept

Rushing forth but not without a trace,

With you there, I first saw your beautiful face,

Keeping in mind that when I forget 

That I, long ago, Paris is where

I first fell in love with you there.

Paris still whispers, for we were there. 

Columbia Road 

My favourite flower is the peony. When I look at what creation has made I see such amazing examples right here on a Sunday; in the middle of London on Columbia Road at the Flower Market…and it was my birthday today. 

These peony flowers spring up to life, nurtured by the sun, water, and soil; A proclamation of the glory of artistry from the earth. They grow and multiply until they reach their glorious peak of colours; everyone orchestrated by creations hand. 

It is the artists that praise your beauty, imitating only to try to capture glory with paint on canvas. For in their eyes you are imagination aspiring. But I wonder can a wildflower not compete with you too? 


Achieving such harmony of tones of contrast require skill and mastery. To be so effective on more levels than the simply aesthetic. I often find myself overcome with joy at the wonder of you. 

Almost as if serenity is evoked only by the specific use of colour scheme nature has made. 

I appreciated the flower market for it’s beauty, thank you… it brought me closer to you. In the heart of a relationship, we are like a peony flower taking root and I feel that I am valued in your eyes. No longer do we compete with the weeds that hinders the growth of our dreams.

We are like the peonies on Columbia Road; we were planted, we are here to live, to love and grow; to become one in a life that is beautiful and creative; for we are here to thrive and if we nurture each other, like the peony…none of us will never fade or wither. 


Enjoy. 

– American Girl in Wales.