Among those contemporary artists, whose work I deeply admire and respect, is Lee Tracy. Her beautiful art goes beyond the visual and artistically meaningful, it reaches out to make a difference. I have been aware of Lee’s World Rivers Project for a long while, so after settling back to the UK over the past year, I felt it was my time to take part in her project by dipping a white cloth in our nearby River Cam.

The concept of various people around the globe dipping their individual white cloths into a myriad of rivers, and those cloths to be eventually joined as one large river curtain, is vastly symbolic. It resonates with me as an act of caring for our Gaia and creating unity amongst its people. I wanted to respond to that symbolism in some way with my contribution. Each of the contributed cloths will have their own personal story, some have been large community projects, some more private, but all flowing in from their various origins to unite together as one harmonious stream.

I chose a piece of white raw silk. It is in fact, the only white fabric I have in my art studio, but it fitted perfectly for my purpose. It is white raw silk that I bought a lot of while living in Dubai. I now use it often for book projects, especially wedding related ones. I adore this particular white raw silk. My own wedding dress was made of the same fabric. It’s wonderfully versatile too, works even as rather stylish living room curtains! And because I found it so difficult to adjust back to the British weather after the Middle Eastern sunshine, it seemed perfect to introduce the wintery British river to this sunny white cloth that came with me from Dubai. Since me and our daughter have been missing the sand dunes most, I thought it would be lovely to take her along to dip the white cloth with me. I also wanted to wait for one specific day for this special ritual… our one year ‘anniversary’ of leaving the desert sun behind. Maybe it is time to finally accept the grey, dreary chill of the north.

The most natural spot for the dipping was where we cross the River Cam every day. The day was suitably grey, with no sun in sight, but it also was incredibly windy which made everything somewhat more problematic. It was necessary to tie a long string to the corner of the cloth so we could keep hold of it. The white cloth did not want to co-operate in the strong gusts, and the drop from the river bank to the surface of the water was a couple of feet. Maybe the silk didn’t want to swim in the chilly dark river either, certainly looked like it. I never managed to get the cloth to spread open on the river’s surface, instead it curled and folded in protest, didn’t want to fly nor float. Rather it seemed to want to escape.

In the end, the piece of white raw silk from Dubai took two plunges in the chilly River Cam. First time around it curled into what I thought looked like a shape of a boat, maybe hoping for  a chance to sail away… And on the second swim, it had seemingly settled into its folded-in-the-wind fate, shivering amongst the swans who had rushed over from the other side of the river hoping there would be some food involved.

And as I write this, the piece of white raw silk is on its way to Lee Tracy, taking its sunny and chilly stories along, to be whispered amongst the group of all the other white cloths that will be flowing together as one very soon.

As the waters of the world continue to suffer, it is crucial to have those, like Lee Tracy, who work to raise awareness of these environmental issues that impact so many around the globe. I’m honoured to have been part of this worthwhile project.

When the weather chills, the beach is nearly one’s own. Time stops and my soul rests in this vast expanse. At times it seems like the earth blends into the sky in the far horizon. It would be easy to forget to go home. Such wonders and treasures all around, permeated by a limitless sense of freedom.

I have always had a strong sense of belonging to one specific place – the archipelago off the west coast of Finland. Having moved away 20 years ago, my heart and my art are still strongly rooted in this landscape. Whilst I have chosen and adapted to some different environments and climates over the years, that have fed my creativity in various ways, it is all blended in with the energy of this scenery.

Therefore it was a great opportunity to soak up the serenity here this summer, revel in the glorious rays of August sunsets, and to be once again grounded by these homely rocks. Between such visits these photographs serve as memory triggers, but every once in a while it’s wonderful to step into them, live it for real, mosquitoes and all.

It is only possible to tidy up if there already is a place for everything. Then it’s just a matter of organising mis-placed things to where they belong. But when there isn’t a place for anything to begin with, organising a new studio seems daunting. A workshop space lives and often organises itself by necessity. I may have good guesses from experience as to where to place tools and materials so that their ease of access helps the workflow. But in the end, adjustments are always needed, tools and materials find their own natural places best through the stages of books being made. So I’m trying to allow for this organic process too. Everything is now unpacked, no more large cardboard boxes left from the move. Some things have a place, many more don’t, and I already need to attend to commissions. But through having already made a few books in this space, I like how it’s taking shape. Out of the chaos a streamlined working process is emerging little by little. And although this space is yet again a temporary solution, it is a comfortable one for now.

We had the chance to observe tropical butterflies emerging from their cocoons this weekend. It’s always wonderful to witness something so symbolic in real life. One cannot but help to draw metaphoric parallels to the stages of creating art and life. For the past months, it has been cocoon time for us – once again, after the death of the last butterfly. Time crawls like a caterpillar, when waiting for the time to emerge again, to get to follow the flight of the once again new butterfly for as long as its time allows. There is even beauty in death, no sorrow in its inevitability, but gratitude for having experienced the flight.

Our thousand and one warm Arabian nights dawned into the cool morning of England. Shaping yet again a new life in a new scenery. After the modern shiny steel architecture of Dubai, it’s now the historical handsome stone buildings. No sea nearby, but a river. Atmospheric but oh so chilly. Still, books get bound here too, and many things will be easier workwise. Dubai was in a league of its own and will always remain with me. But as these current times are about transitions and transformation, I’ll go with the flow.

The textile souk in the old part of Dubai is one of my favourite places, full of colour and vibrant movement. When our time in Dubai was drawing to a close, I noticed myself visiting many places at their quietest. There is a different atmosphere in empty, silent environs. This is probably what reflected most my own emotions about leaving. It has been the most special, precious four years in my life, with far-reaching effects in both how I look at the world as well as how I approach my art. I will be returning regularly still to catch up with some work and friends, as well as, very importantly, to charge my inner solar energy reserves…

I have recently been reflecting a lot in the presence of the windy sea.  The most precious gold in this place is the glitter on these waves.  The pastel hues of sunset create a calm all around me. They paint a soft rainbow as a backdrop to the shining fireball dropping fast behind the horizon. I stand in these waves and they connect me to all other shores, everywhere. I am everywhere at the same time, while each moment turns into white foam wave by wave. There is nothing more beautiful than this. I begin with the sea and I end with the sea.

Spending a tranquil summer week by a rocky shore near Helsinki, Finland, meant our children could experience the scenery I spent my own childhood summers in. On our first evening I suggested to our daughter (5) that we explore the forest and the beach and make some sort of earthy artwork together. Carrying things such as dried sticks, pine cones and pebbles, we picked a spot for the artwork. I had not yet even thought further than collecting materials when she suggested we make a tree. To me, that was just a word, a rather common one – but it was clear she had a vision. She set to build it and didn’t seem to mind me taking on the role of just an observer. She worked with great concentration and care, found more materials like dried seaweed nearby, and let me follow her vision unfold. It was once again a revelation to me. How easily it all comes to her. How hard I must work to arrive to just a fraction of the effortless creative touch her tree was made of. I am still humbled by these photographs, and yet again reminded about the dimensions beyond my own personal vision.

The tree stayed guarding the beach until our last day. Even the strong night winds did not blow away the delicate grass at the root of the tree. Before leaving for good, we went back, quietly and gently took the tree apart, scattering the materials back to their natural environment. A beautiful completion to a beautiful week.

Visiting Finland this year was energizing, peaceful, insightful. Full of playful journeys into natural surroundings, rocky beaches and wild forests. Far away from glitzy malls… Grey tones on this vacation were far away from dull and depressing, but instead the subtlety of colour among it all was a reminder of all the beauty in the normal daily grind too – just need to look for it.

If ever visiting the capital Helsinki, I do recommend finding the nature trails on nearby islands, such as Seurasaari Open Air Museum. Just a few miles away from the city centre there’s a whole different world…

Running out of things to do in this scorching summer weather, we pass the local antique shop for an umpteenth time. But it’s only me who’d walk hurriedly past, having seen it for so many times. For the kids, there’s always something fascinating to see, always something fresh and different. So I force myself look closer too, to spot new ancient things. And yet another hour has gone by, closer to catching the plane north where we might even come across some precious rain…

Not many weekends left now for endless walkabouts before the summer heat kicks in, so making the most of it while we can. Having tried some barefooted daytime dune walking in May on our first year here, I know not to make the same mistake again. I recently read about someone having been up near an active volcano in such scorching heat that trees practically burst on fire – and another commented, ‘This is nothing, you should try a summer in Dubai’. Although, having spent the first half of my life in freezing northly minus grades, I believe there’s still enough chill in my bones to last a few more Dubai summers yet. When no one else wants to sit outside on a restaurant terrace in mid-July as you can hardly catch your breath from the heat, you might still spot one brave Finn out there. But dunes… I’ll leave those for next winter.

I realised I’ve not yet posted any images of our local cafe. It’s not that I’d be taking this one for granted, no. Still three years on, I enjoy this place just as much. Like I’ve said before, whether one likes the style over here or not, isn’t particularly relevant. What I admire, is the attention to detail – that someone cares to make a place like this. Just as much that I like a normal cozy corner cafe, it’s different kind of wonderful to relax in grandeur like this.

For those of you who might want to head for a cuppa in this beautiful Starbucks, it’s located in Dubai’s Ibn Battuta Mall, in its ‘Persia Court’. It’s also worth finding out about the explorer Ibn Battuta, who is the Arabian equivalent of Marco Polo. This mall bearing his name is themed around his travels, therefore you find areas such as ‘China Court’, ‘India Court’ and ‘Egypt Court’ among others, all paying equally stunning attention to the details of their interiors.

For me, as a child, it was growing up near the sea and the forest that left its deepest impression within me for life. It is different now for our little ones. I’m so happy to have similarly strong natural surroundings to take them to which in turn will no doubt leave an impression deep within them. This time it’ll just be the desert and the mountains instead. But the call of the dunes is palpable – only five, she quietly gazes towards the horizon, whispers “Beautiful…” and takes off. Just walks, walks straight ahead, not looking back, just walks. And I have no other option than to follow. I have no doubt, she would just carry on walking, such is the determination in her step. Up and down, over the dunes, into the future…

What amazes me time and again is how beautifully this place is always lit up when it’s dark. Spot lights on palm trees, small sparkles of light in the nooks and crannies of buildings. Walking around the souk Madinat Jumeirah in the tastefully lit up dark is always atmospheric. One of my most favourite evening spots. And now that winter starts to be over and we’re heading to the scorching summer once more, night time will be soon again the only time to go out.

The beautiful mountains of Hatta are only just over an hour’s drive away for us. The peculiar water-shaped rocks of Hatta Pools are a lovely area for a picnic and a paddle. On the way, might even pass some baby camels…

Burj al Arab fireworks, stunning as ever. I’m looking forward to this brand new year with great excitement and know it in my bones it’s going to be very special. I wish you all an inspired, uplifting year ahead! (Jan10)

There’s a hidden treasure of a place in the basement of Wafi Mall, Souk Khan Murjan, a modern-made traditional souk (‘Bazaar’ is the word many might recognise better) where no effort has been spared when it comes to decorative details. One might argue that this shiny brand new place lacks the charm of the real old souks but for an artist like myself who creates by visual details, this place is just beautiful. I don’t compare it to the old – like I don’t compare the musty leather bindings of the past to the contemporary designer bindings created these days. Some of this place might be over the top, but just the plain fact that someone goes through such trouble to create a space like this nowadays, is wonderful. It is meant to offer artisan made traditional Arabian arts and crafts. The real shame then is that an increasing amount of these little charming shops are going empty and looks like half of the beautiful heavy wooden doors are shut permanently. I assume the rent is way too high for the footfall there should be to bring in any sales. It is sad to see as this place in particular would be more than ideal to create a buzzling modern artist market in Dubai. Would be great to see something individual and different sold here, as every mall sells the same wares and brands. Although the monthly Arte Souk in Times Square Mall is doing well, all in all contemporary designer crafts have not found their way to Dubai yet, not the way they’re represented in London and the UK in general for example. Hopefully one day… (Dec09)

I’m having this eternal quest to capture the pastel hue moment that occurs just before sunset. But I won’t. Maybe it’s even better that way. Winter is nearly here and it’s possible to stay outside again without melting. So plenty of time to go and see the real thing whenever I wish. (Dec09)

It may still be rather hot but since it has been way too long since our last visit to the dunes, we thought to bear the heat and go anyway. It’s always such a treat, away from the city, like another world. There’s a luxurious desert resort called Bab al Shams, with just the best roof terrace where to lounge and watch the sun go down behind the dunes. But the best of all is just to run up and down the sand waves until out of breath. (Oct09)

It’s not often nowadays that I choose to swap my precious evening hours in the atelier to a bar instead. I had never visited Buddha Bar in Dubai, although had heard it to be very nice. What an understatement… I was blown away. And applaud the interior designers as I don’t think it’s possible to get it any more right. A blissful place to spend an evening. (Sept09)

On the last day in Finland, we enjoyed an afternoon in the forest where there’s a nature trail and a sculpture park “Edvininpolku”. All the sculptures are made by Edvin Hevonkoski, a sheet-metal worker who started to make these wonderful works of art in 1982, after retiring. There are over one hundred pieces dotted along the forest path. Whereas some call this “outsider art”, to me it’s every bit valid as simply art. Incredibly wonderful works in natural surroundings, I aim to visit every year.
More photos can be seen in: Edvin Hevonkoski’s Image Gallery. (Aug09)

English weather has been kind to us this week. Looking up to the sunny sky, the edge of the architectural horizon has caught my eye this time – the “ancientness” of everything, the energy of centuries past is very present. This year also marks the 800th anniversary of the University of Cambridge. Just imagining what it was like to stroll these streets in those early years. Knowing how books were made and regarded those days somehow feels to connect me very closely with that era. (Aug09)

A short drive towards the archipelago coast in Köklot has this amazing shoreline, to which photographs just don’t do justice. Evergreens reaching the sky, rough rocks sharply diving down towards the sea. It was raining, the scenery was fresh and the meditative visit cleared my mind and heart.

The time to leave Finland came earlier than I had planned. It is likely I won’t be seeing my peaceful childhood beach for some while now, so these evening images will travel with me. (Aug09)

Travelled back in time by visiting the open air museum of Stundars on the west coast of Finland. It brings to life how people in this area used to live. On the day of our visit 40 makers were demonstrating their crafts, from weaving and basketry to leatherwork and blacksmithing. Stundars also offers artist residencies for international artists, so if ever wishing to create in this inspiring environment, check out Ateljé Stundars. (Aug09)

It’s possible there’s nothing better than boating in the scenery of this archipelago. There are so many islands I wonder how people find their way back. This, to me, is what summer is about. (Jul09)

Forgetting the pesky mosquitoes and the little too long rainy spells, it’s really quite pleasant to stroll around in my native surroundings again. Revelling in the freshness of the scenery, soaking in the colours and details… a relaxing holiday indeed. (Jul09)

Twilight cuts the edge off the day’s scorching heat and it’s a pleasure to take a stroll around the pond near where we live. Darkness falls quickly. Very shortly we’ll be enjoying the still light nights in Finland. But I will miss the heat, I really will. (Jul09)

The other night I stole a moment for a quiet evening walk to indulge in my quick fix visual inspiration. And found among the snaps these notes dancing in the air. Wish I was musical enough to “hear” this picture.

The way I work, at its best, always involves an element of surprise even to myself. If I already knew exactly what the end result will be, there’d be no reason for me to make the piece – it would already “exist”. I crave the unexpected, I suppose. Thrive on it. So for me, the quickest way to get this surprising result is to snap away and paint with light. Maybe childishly simple but works for me. I then examine the composition, quality of line, hues of colour… And am refreshed. (May09)

Another summer is approaching. Only a year ago I remember the start of the rising temperatures and thinking how should have made the most of the cool weather earlier. And here I am again, wondering why we didn’t see more and do more outside and further afield while it was still below +35C… Now the next opportunity is months away again. But, as with cold winters, one adapts and learns to do things suited to the climate. So it’ll be again. Life outside starts after sunset. (Apr09)