Welcome to the seventh week in the summer series of Little Windows. Bite sized peeks at historical objects that tell stories of global connections, creative encounters and adaptations. Each piques my curiosity and creativity, and I hope will do the same for you.
A little window to open once a week.
Fragments
I have been a mother for six years now, almost seven if we include pregnancy. I’m a writer and this is a publishing platform so, really, I should be hitting you with a 1000 word essay reflecting on my matrescene right now. But right no I can’t find the words amongst the fog and I can’t bring myself to write something for the sake of content.
I’m also without time to sit and properly reflect. Everything is fragmented, layered, interrupted or disjointed. Largely working from home, while being the primary care-giver means the boundaries between my roles blur and blend. Often this works very well; at other times I crave a more siloed existence, with a clean cut and paste separation of part arranged to create a whole with greater solidity.
If I had the head space, I’d articulate all this better. But the point of this missive is to create a little creative window, so here are two offerings that speak to me in this moment as we head towards the end of summer.
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