Once upon a time we had a rabbit. The rabbit died over a year ago just on New Year’s Eve. We took the rabbit tray outside, it was in our garden collecting rain water and algae. It was a big cage, capacious. When the big freeze came over the last week all that water with algae froze creating interesting patterns and compositions. I chopped the ice with an old bread tin. It was also filled with heavy ice. Our son lifted it off the tray. He placed it next to his knee to show how tall and thick it was, impressive in size. I photographed the blocks of ice while they were still floating among the icy water and when son was holding the ice.
The algae surrounded them. I then post-processed the photos in Lightroom. My favourite abstract composition is below.
I wonder what you think of it all?
Let me know.
x
And yesterday while walking, I met this little being. I think its eye is in the abstract.
Writing and photography: Alicja Pyszka-Franceschini, 2025, Home Studio, Derby, UK. Outdoor photo taken in Willington, South Derbyshire.
I’ve got an impression that last winter my mother was making this soup every three days for our children. Her grandson was competing with himself to see how many bowls he could comfortably consume. We all looked at him in disbelief, wondering where that quantity was disappearing. Surely, he was not spoon-feeding the dogs under the table. He loved it. Everyone else did too. They gladly returned from the cold and sat in front of a steaming bowl and each bowl came with a piece of popular Polish bread showered with flax seeds. Yummy.
Do you cook? What do you like making?
The knitted cloth that the soup is placed on is actually a scarf made by my aunt. It is so warm, you won’t believe. Shoulders wear it gracefully indebted to my aunt for many hours of her work. I was comforted by the softness of the scarf. The warmth of the soup also brought reassurance. I am grateful that my mum and aunt keep their skills fresh and that they continuously make an effort. It is mesmerizing to see how things emerge in other people’s hands. As if from nowhere…
Creativity blossomed in our house over the weekend. Icy weather gave us many opportunities to refresh and revive our spirit and gave us hope for a good and creative year. I hope you are feeling equally energized.
The photos of the soup were taken last year in Poland. The photo of my children was taken in Melbourne (UK) at Woodhouse Farm. Many thanks to Brian Woodhouse for allowing me to take photos on his farm and fields.
Below is a photo from my parents’ place in Poland.
How was your day? What you’ve been up to lately? I so rarely hear from you but you often hear from me. It would nice to hear from you. Who you are? Where you living now? What has awakened your heart recently? I am sending you a few photographs of our fairytale wonderland yard. They are still performing well against the darkness of the world. Making neighbours smile or wonder why they are still there. Wouldn’t it be lovely to get all our front yards’ decorations and place them all in our local park to make a magical fairytale land out of this world? Can you imagine children’s faces and all the wows exhaled with joys of laughter and fingers pointed: ‘Look at this!’ ‘Look at that?’ Maybe neighbours and local community centres would be up for it?
Sash Milne from Inked in Colour believed in the power of human connection and community. She planted a strong seed. Thank you for making the difference through your voice and writing, Sash. We can be resilient independently and we can be even more resilient together. Yes, we can.
And I was also thinking…
Sometimes magic is not readily available to everyone. Sometimes children cannot walk through the city or even ride through the city for various reasons. Sometimes it is because they have to stay at the hospital. And I think that they need magic too, so on the 24 December, trying to observe Polish tradition of having one more place at the table for a stranger I thought that no stranger would come really (they hardly ever come), but I thought to myself that I can be a stranger who makes someone feel better. And I think you can too. If you would like to.. so I wonder if you would like to manifest some hope and joy.. I have something in confidence to share or rather a recipe for joy to share. Good deeds are embarrassing to share but then The Gita for Children taught me this year that goodness leads to intelligence and it leads to knowledge. So perhaps you would like to do it too?
I bought these lovely aurora LED lights (click here to see) and I grabbed my second-hand copy of the book 100 Reasons to Hope. True stories of everyday heros(here) and I took them to our local hospital for the children on the inpatient ward to enjoy together with the nurses, doctors and other members of staff that were working during Christmas. The children’s team play coordinator was so moved. I felt I did the right thing and I’m feeling I am doing the right thing now too to share it with you. Maybe you would like to do the same for the children at your local hospital? Or others. Talk to your family and friends about it. Maybe they would like to do it together.
We have these lights at home too and we use them with my children of they are overly anxious or struggle to come down before going to sleep.
A bit of magic is so necessary when reality is too much to handle. Isn’t it?
It’s hard to see this. This amount of flooding and the road closure. It is easy to become overwhelmed. After all, we see Earth in a trauma response. With a compromised immunity system. When we cross Earth’s boundaries, Earth crosses ours. You feel this too? And yet Earth never stops being generous. Giving beyond the easily discernible. It tells us to look harder, better. Beyond the ‘road closure’ sign. There is art to be grateful for.
Two pieces of work abstracted from ice. Mostly created on this road.
I have one more post to share soon. Expect a new arrival on Sunday.
I hope you are really taking care of yourself. Make use of the refreshing icy weather if you’re based in this hemisphere. And do what makes you happier and stronger. Speak soon. x
Postcards Without Stamps 