I’m an easy person to please. Give me stationery and a good book with your personalized message and I’m a happy camper. As I’m writing this, I have four journals waiting to be used, all of them presents from friends; I’m looking at a fresh letter set along with a patterned sticky tape set waiting to be put to use; I’ve got a set of sharpened pencils waiting to spoil pages with my thoughtless rumbling.

And yet something has changed. I like all of these things, but feel disconnected from them. And I have had a lifetime of absolute fidelity to writing, reading, recording this or that insignificant detail. I have my thoughts on paper from the age of 8 — a shelf full of journals that pin down my  naive childhood, my tempered adolescence, my youthful adultness. I have successfully made it here, to almost 30 so that I can come to an unforeseeable halt?

And it’s not just the writing, it’s the reading too. After a lukewarm start to the New Year, I’ve managed to read about four books that have neither excited nor inspired me. I’ve even resorted to audiobooks, which only occurred to me as a feasible idea after reading this somewhat inspiring, if not impossibly ambitious, article.  I’m currently reading Ian McEwan’s Sweet Tooth, which I’m finding atrociously boring, two-dimensional and stale. I also own in audiobook (don’t ask why), and have been trudging my way through it for the past three weeks despite reading at home and listening to it on my way to and from work. If nothing else, at least I’ve discovered that I’m definitely not an audiobook person.

So recently, in the hopes of regaining some form of inspiration to jumpstart my imagination, I have began transcribing my diary entries, from that very first journal. It dates back to January 1992 and I could not feel more far removed from myself as I do now. I have decided to share the first entry with you (translated from Greek):

6 January 1992, Monday

Tomorrow we’re going back to school. Oh! What bad luck. And we are so used to sleeping at midnight whereas now we will have to sleep at 9 p.m. Unfortunately we have to go to school. But then again, I will see my friends. 


Maybe this will get me out of the rut. Oh and this blog, which I hope to revive slowly. Your encouragement is a welcome delight.

I told you I was easy to please.




Switch off


Today I’m not going to drink more than three cups of tea, no matter how much I convince myself that my throat hurts or I have that craving. I will drink more water and I will make a mental tally of the liters I down by night time. It will be close to the big two and I will feel a sense of achievement for doing something that should be part of my mundane routine anyway.

I will not spend hours getting tangled up in website links and referrals and e-mails and replies. I don’t have to update my facebook status or tweet that I’m drinking water for the day because it is not important. I will not open photoshop to edit any one of my candidate photos for flickr. I won’t even browse other photographs for inspiration and I most definitely will not log in on tumblr. All that inspiration and clicks can be downright distracting, especially if it leads me to etsy. I cannot allow myself to go on etsy, or any other online shop for that matter, because today of all days, there will be no window shopping. Even my metaphorical wallet is empty.

I will make the bed in the morning, and I will actually eat breakfast because it is the most important meal of the day I persistently choose to forget. I will call my mom to see how she is because I will remember to reach out across the telephone line that separates the measly distance between us. If I’m ambitious, I will also make the 10-minute drive to see my grandmother, who speaks in television language because that is all the company she has. I will make her day by sitting down next to her and listening to all the episodes I missed during the week. I will call my friends for a casual coffee drink of water and I will make the effort to be more than a Facebook friend.

Today, I will set aside time to read my book, even if I’ve forgotten its title from the time it’s been to hold it. I will not do this before I sleep because I want to read more than just a couple of sentences. I will write in my real journal, not my blog, about the thoughts in my mind, the things I most wish for, the quotidien that saturates my minutes. I will think of friends abroad and actually call them. Or better yet, I will sit down and write them a letter, not an e-mail. I will play songs I’ve forgotten about and I will sing along fearlessly. I will take a walk on the beach and I will write a poem. I will jot down my ideas on actual paper that is inside a thought notebook, not a post-it note.

Today, I’m changing everything. It all starts today.

Come along for the ride

Jewelry, Musings

In true Austin Powers style I have to say, “I got my mojo back.” Yeah, baybeah, yeah!

I was leafing through the Berlin guide, when I was overwhelmed by a sudden feeling of restlessness. Hey, I’m used to that. But lately my restlessness has hardly lent itself to jewelry expression. I don’t know what went wrong (or right) today, but I suddenly felt I had a calling to answer. And I’m thrilled with the result!

Want to see? Great, because that’s exactly what I had in mind. The problem? Poor lighting for any good photos…so, why don’t you take a guess…

shadow on the wall

Any wild guesses?

I promise to take some good photos of my new creations tomorrow when there’s some good old natural light. I can’t wait!

But hold on — you didn’t think my mojo only brought back this little number? Think again. I have a new fun project / idea that aims to bridge distances and connect artists and non-artists all-over. To complete it, I need your help. What am I on about?

A cycle journal

A cycle journal

What’s a cycle journal? One that will start from here and travel around the world until there are no more pages left to fill. Each person has a page or two to fill with anything from thoughts, photos, drawings, poems or even favorite quotes. Once it reaches the end, the person holding it, should return it to me and I’ll scan in the pages, one-by-one under a new theme day. So what now?

Who’s in?

If you are interested in participating in this, please send me an e-mail at plainbananas@gmail.com or start a conversation with me on Etsy, with your mailing address. I will collect a bunch of addresses that will be indexed at the back so whoever holds it can randomly select and tick off where they would like to send it off to next.

And that’s what I call good mojo! Are you game?

You give me fever

Jewelry, Musings

The week is off with thermometer in hand, cold compresses and sickness soup just when I was to say good riddance to winter. I’m not the one sick (yet), but something tells me to hold for the symptoms to appear on Friday, before I fly out to my sister because I know that life is not without a sense of sadistic brouhaha.

As I did my best trying to fruitlessly alleviate any form of discomfort the fever may have been causing my sick boyfriend, I didn’t for a second convince myself that I was making much of a difference. Between making soup, hydrating and keeping him company, I managed to make two new pairs of earrings that I’ve posted on flickr. I’m sharing one of those pictures here, because it is actually taken from inside my not-completely wrecked journal.

Chewed and digested

Chewed and digested

Credit for the chewing goes to The Little Anorak Girl’s illustrator, who couldn’t help getting his teeth into it. Thanks J.

As promised, I’m posting another picture from the Pink Milk Vintage photo-shoot. This is one of my favourites, and simply love the whole scene. The jacket is too elegant for words. Go ahead, chew on this yourself:

Hang on to this

Hang on to this