Thursday, 2 May 2013

Confessions of a straight lace

This is my 2013 vision board.
Owing to various circumstances I didn't finish it until last week.
I've had the images stashed away for ages, the words rolling around my head. I know how I want this year to feel.
The thing is this: I'm worried about that word Wild. I don't think I am capable of being Wild. Not really.
That woman up there, on that board, she is so intimidating to me right now.
I was teaching my watercolour class yesterday. We were painting images of rambling gardens. Lovely English cottage gardens. Lupins, poppies, alliums. Little stone benches. Willow trees bowing in a light June breeze and little gateways hidden behind over grown foliage. I had one of those rare moments where you actually recognise your own contentment at the time you are feeling it. I had found a little patch of sunlight to sit in. There was the sound of paintbrushes in water and I think I might have heard a cookoo in the distance.
On Monday I will pop over to Hornton, the village my mum comes from. A lot of my family still live there and there will be proper Mayday celebrations. There will be a Maypole. Homemade cake and cider in the pub garden.
I don't know how to be that woman; wild, unapologetic, natural and brave, in these quaint settings. That little word. It just popped into my head without me giving it a huge amount of thought as to what it meant to me. And, of course, in my woefully naive way, I have become worried that it might mean going out when I don't want to, drinking when I don't want to, talking to people when I don't want to, talking to men when I don't want to. I'm worried it might mean accidentally becoming something I'm not. Which I have accidentally done before.


Ok. It's three hours later. I very often write blog posts that I don't publish, mainly because they are a bit open ended.
I have decided to define what this word means to me.
It means being slightly more audacious.
It means apologising less.
It means tending to my own needs before everyone else's.
It means listening to my body more.
It means calling people out on their bullshit. Quietly and politely. And then probably running away and hiding.
It means, actually, just doing what I bloody well want to do. Without reference to any of the dozens of people I nod at and say hello to as I walk from one end of this small town to the other.


  1. this is great Rachel. I see these free, bohemian women around the blogs and I get overwhelm, thinking I should live in the desert or decide to take a madcap trip across America.
    But that's not me. My wilderness is of the blousy garden kind, the sea on a grey day or oak woods to spread out in. That's what wild means to me.

  2. Yes! Me too! I think it's about knowing what feels right in your bones and not trying to be someone other than yourself.
    I think I should have chosen the word wilder rather than wild.
    I still want the tattoo though ;)

  3. I spent 10 minutes lurking outside a tattooists on Saturday. I want one but a) worry about the pain and b) worry about the fact I'm 37 this year, is that not too old to be considering such things. Is this my mid-life crisis? Round and round went my head until I crept away and pretended to be interested in architecture.

    I think it was very brave to post this, and that you are probably braver than you think. Just continuing to exist on your own terms and not changing to fit someone else, you are wilder than you know. X

  4. Thank you Tonia- that means a lot to me. Re: the Tattoo. No I don't think 36 is too old to be considering such things! I'm 34 and at the rate I am going I'll be 40 before I finally get mine. At least yo hovered outside, I've not dared to walk down that particluar street yet. There's a couple of pins on Pinterest going around at the moment of older women with tattoos (and by older I mean in their 60's) and they look amazing- just strong, tribal, don't-give-a-fuck women. I want to be one of those ;)

  5. I think of 'wild' in terms of 'free'. Free to be exactly the person you really are, on the inside, without giving a damn what other people think. Images of women like Kate Moss spring to mind when I think of wild - out of control, attention-seeking, drinking, drug-taking, deliberately overstepping boundaries. Free to me means contentment, walking your own talk, being true to your own beliefs, non-conformist in a non-conformist kind of way. I think so many of us are caught inside ourselves, projecting an image that 'fits-in',(both with society, and with what people have come to know us as), and not quite brave enough to say 'I'm not a drink/drugs/noisemaker type of girl, but I want to be able to get a tattoo/wear stripey tights/let go of things in my life that aren't really 'me'. That's wild. You go girl!

  6. Love this! Blog again wilder one xxx