Moods, Rhythms, Prose…

into the wildinto the wild-2into the wild-3

As always the pictures featured in my moodboard are collected over on Pinterest, Tumblr and instagram. I don’t know a lot of the origins but a couple are saved from Izobel over on instagram. I’ve followed her for a long while and adore her feed, honestly there are some stunning pictures and a very unique collection of style, music and reads.

You, a fiesty vessel between bloated suits on streets that crack under the pressure of the men that built them. You’re not weary from the shadows cast by vast pillars that crowd you in but you gnaw at the already broken skin at your fingertips in regards to a more cosmic anxiety. Limitless guitar riffs and lyrics echo in the chasm of dreary life surrounding you, a comfort against the otherwise hallow sirens and cacophony of morbid conversation. Heavy black boots clomp between the shoddy tap of designer stilettos and patter of a “gentleman’s” best brogues. That “gentleman” tosses you a sleazy quirk of withering lips, the stare you know he holds is hidden from view, sunglasses shielding the privilege of that male gaze. You sneer with red painted lips, no haste as you saunter past him.

You’re late for work…again. But the coffee’s will flow regardless, you’re sure. Your lack of enthusiasm already has you on the bosses blacklist anyways. It’s a matter of time before he tells you to “Do one” and you know in your heart of hearts you won’t be mad about it. Your very existence is an expletive in his well routined life. He forgot what youthful hunger was years ago, let that pressing control of an ordinary life seep in. You do well to hold onto your daydreams, reliving that acoustic set in a grotty bar in Camden a few evenings ago. The less than stellar turn out and your muck up on the first chorus smoothed out in your visions of music video’s and sell out arena shows, all on lock somewhere in your dreamers mind for when he tells you you’re useless for the third time. But work exists only in those four walls, when closing arrives you lock the door, with all it’s demeaning shut in behind you, and head into the still festering city streets for a while. Used record stores and the irony of more cafes, like the one you slave in, occupy the hours before “home” time.

‘Home’ is a small closet room, the closest to affordable you can get in this rich mans city. A single bed from childhood, a diy clothing rail and second hand chest of drawers overfill the space. But there’s a lock on the door and a huge window to let in the daylight, and a shabby little corner where your crosley lives, a magazine turned record stand beside it. You’ll plug in your headphones to appease your neighbour Benji and his complacency with the meagre sounds of drunk yells and busy clattering of pots and pans, you zone into the melodies and pick apart poetry well into the night. If the mood strikes you pluck your own riffs and settle your chaos into the scribbles of a song. Patience young thing, your struggle is your soundcheck and your encore is rising.

This mini mix features some of my most favourited artists (The Horrors, Slowdive, The Jesus and Mary Chain) and grazes over the shoegaze genre without being too overwhelming. Pretty sounds, dreamy sounds, resonating sounds. All of the sound play with beautiful lyrics to boot. A lot of the tracks remind me of my later teen years when I was never without my headphones, completely devoted to my record collection and writing god awful lyrics. 

Light and Love, N x


Moods, Rhythms, Prose…

Sip with MeSip with Me-2Sip with Me-3

Again all of these images are collected over on my Pinterest and Tumblr and what not. I’ve also featured one of my favourite instagram accounts @gabimulder which you should for sure check out. As well as beautiful summer scenes, she shoots some wistful feminine portraits too. 

Embrace that messy head and scribble your art on life. Tongue tied you may be but I will give you the ink to honour that explosive gift for written truths. Cursive and print, legible and cluttered. Give me the letters, the words, that common language that wraps itself around my daily deeds and string them together anew with mastery and imagination. Give me all you have in your heart, write me your desires, your secrets, your emotions. Let me in, write me a window, write me a passage through those whirlwind thoughts. I’m here for you, for all that you can design and create for me. I’m hungry for your foreign lines and lofty scripts. Give me verse and prose, novels, just a simple phrase. Give me the puzzle, that is you, prettily packaged on pages of type. Give me the grit and the horror of the world that surrounds us, on the back of a supermarket receipt. A poem on a napkin, the corner tarnished, used to wipe up your brew. Give me the racing action dancing in your eyes through the coffee shop window. Give me myself remastered by your divulging fingers. That elevation of observation you master so well. Give me spills of soul and the jagged, dragged out pain of your denial. Give me rhyme or bland simplicity but just give and give and give, despite that self doubt. I’ll smooth out the crinkles in that bunched up wad of a masterpiece and frame it for the world to see. What you have? It matters. So stop where you have to and write with the tools you grab, be flighty and blunt and dismissive of all that gets in your way.

My little mini mix here is a compilation of some of my favourite lyrics. It’s a bit mish mashy and I just grabbed at the ones that popped into my head first so I definitely left out some of my favourites but nevertheless I hope you enjoy!

Light and Love, N x

Moods, Rhythms, Prose…

into the wildinto the wild-2into the wild-4

Oh, to be the colour yellow. Honey smiled, iridescent thing. A riot of personality. A loud, present, lively disposition. The ambiguity of her! So meek but ferocious, so calm but elated, so subtle but so effervescent. Oh, yellow, she’d be a demanding creature. Would you dare the lightning of an embrace? Or stumble back lest you wither in her sweetness? All of that golden giving is a wild woman’s prerogative. She’d be so busy being that she’d risk being stretched out on life’s palette, her vigour swept up by the brushes of the masses. No. Yellow, she’d have to be a sacred thing, reigned in lest the world’s murky vendors should ensnare her.

This mini mix is a a lot of dream pop and tinkering guitar riffs. I’m currently residing in a seaside town so the whole surfy, summer sound is sort of my soundtrack. 

Check out my Spotify for more musical goodness

Love and Light, N x

Moods, rhythms, prose…

Sip with MeSip with Me-4Sip with Me-3

The last post like this was simply titled ‘inspiration’. It was a way for me to utilise the mood boards I make when I’m overwhelmed by everything leaving impressions on me. But I had an idea! I’m mesmerised by us women, our different quirks and how we, and the things we pour ourselves into, express who we are. So I thought why not create a character from what I collect, incorporate the ever changing facets of who I am and what’s interesting me and combine it with the scribbles I accumulate whilst people watching and the moods and scenes the images paint. It’s one of my most expressive tools as a writer, to look at an image and unravel it, paint the backstory and give the subject life. And seeing as it’s International Women’s Day (All the love to my fellow chica’s) I thought it was the perfect time to post one. Let me know what you think.

She is a solitary creature this one. A myriad of musings painted by her features, a whisper of a smirk, an appraisal in the subtle tilt of her brow, defeat in a minuscule hunch of her shoulders. With gentle grace she pours admirable patience into the life she so desperately needs to surround herself with. Potted palms in every corner, every room of her home a conservatory. Her existence is measured in shades of evergreen, sage, olive. In the yard she tends the soil with bare hands, dirt beneath the bitten nails, the glue to bound what anxiety unravels. This is her way of encouraging life from her breaking. A way to purge the loneliness, the doubt and in turn find budding shoots from this mangled suffering, the ugliness blooming into something to sooth, something she can nurture.

The seeming meekness is just an introverts protection though and if you were to spy, on a lazy Sunday afternoon, between the shutters of the bay windows, then you would see a damsel of independent certainty. The record player crackles out folk melodies, that she spins to, lulls the plants into a gentle sway with her lofty tones and fairytale whistles. She’s barefoot and grazing the carpet, in just a shirt, hair a mess atop her nymph like face. The smile is foreign, unleashed from its confines in the security of home.

The off balanced wooden bookcase behind her has life etched into it, with splits and cracks in the white overcoat. On it, the spines to manuals of varying botanical topics are visible in no particular order, interluded by vintage spray cans and a picture frame of pressed daisies. The walls are white, the carpet a light hazelnut, the only colour injected is from leaves that boast unique patterns and budding blooms of whites and muted pastels. There are no ornaments, no personal photographs or trinkets, everything is precisely there to benefit her work, her pleasure, her purpose. Around her, love thrives, her patience and maternal core a focused thing, a rare thing.

Love to all my green thumbed Goddesses, N x






I’m such a visual person and I’m constantly making these daft little moodboards, I lot of it has to do with me living on a backpackers budget and having limited space for clothes. I love style but have to do what I can with a handful of pieces. This is my way of indulging in that side of my interests. I’ve included a wee mixtape too. There are a lotta old tunes on it, I’m not much into listening to new releases right now but instead I’m taking comfort in the familiar tracks I can belt out in the shower. Maybe you’ll find a few gems in there anyways or maybe rediscover an old favourite.

P.s. The new MGMT album though. Still not fully convinced but there are some refreshing as hell, interesting, sounds in there. Not that I’d expect anything less. Opinions? Anything I should be listening too?

All the love, N x

jameshighland-4Today I wore sandal’s and had to peel off my skinny jeans and don a skirt because Newcastle had an uncharacteristic sunny spell. I loved it. Though it made me nostalgic for bonfire beach nights in Australia, we had a pretty lovely Summer style evening in the back garden. Above are some recently released jams I’ve been groovin’ too. Strong vibed, high summer soundtrackers that made the people smile tonight when they tinkled through the speakers. I also just wanted to gush publicly about some of my recent obsessions. In particular Harry Style’s debut solo album which has had me falling in love with him all over again. It’s nice to have Foster the People back too, they’re one of my all time favourite bands and the new stuff is pretty great, even if they are growers rather than head over heels in love first listens. I’m waiting very impatiently for MGMT to finally release some new material too, I’m so ready for more of my favourite boys.

Any tracks you’ve been loving lately, new or old? Please share I’m always scouting out new favourites! Also what you thinking of solo Styles? Any albums you’re excited for?

with love, Nx



Hello friends, sorry for being so absent on here. Girl gots herself two jobs and I’m working like crazy to save for more travelling fun. But here I have for you a new playlist, since the last one went down soooooo well!

The sun is making an appearance most days now in Northern England, even if the air is still holding onto that winter chill. The sun and happy beats are what’s keeping me so optimistic of late. Bus rides and walks to work are often occupied by old favourites so here I’m sharing some of those with you. If you’re around my age (22) then some of these tunes will most definitely bring about some nostalgia of school days where you were all about questionable fashion choices (I used to glue pink streaks into my hair) and posters of Indie band front men donning your walls. They may also may make you feel slightly old. Still, these are songs that have stayed on my iTunes since my young teens (when I had a magenta iPod nano), they still make me smile and hopefully they do the same for you.

This playlist could have been pages long, so I’m most likely gonna come at ‘cha with a part 2 in the future. If you’re feeling the teenage feels, like me, then post your fave throwback Indie tunes in the comments so I can pick up some inspiration and relive some of my favourite memories!

N x