What do you want to be...

... when you're grown up. I love that question. Particularly - or increasingly, only - when I pretend I'm still 12 years old and all's yet to come. I can still decide what I want to do, where I want to be and what. I still can, of course. And everything can change. Always.

I've read a lot of blogs lately. A short while ago I focussed on photography blogs. And immediately I wanted to become a photographer. A nature photographer to be precise. You walk and see and spot. You make moments last. You take them in.


I guess I just like spotting things. Things I like, things that might be overlooked. Things that just wait to be found and make you feel like you've uncovered a treasure. Things like the little figure of a man balanced on a drain pipe off London's Columbia Road Flower Market.

I'm currently looking at design blogs. And immediately I want to be a creative, a designer. Of furniture, clothes, graphics, blogs, or ideas. Here's an inspiring example. Something else I spotted and wanted to share. 3 cheers to the rainbowzombiesatemyunicorn. Love it.

Are you happy?

Are you happy? The Guardian asked. And Kate Drummond, ice cream vendor, had an answer. An answer, I liked so much, in fact, I framed it. I love the idea of owning an ice cream van and parking it up next to sea side views, a gentle breeze blowing in exactly the right direction (to avaid my hair getting stuck in the ice cream)... I also liked Kate's theory that ice cream is a good indicator for happiness: If it drips down a child's face, all's well... and even better, when the topping's free, defying any money grabbing ice cream super business... Then the thought of children returned. Their laughter. The seed of doubt. Not that I don't like them per se... although, well, the things is, I'm not sure their rowdy presence fits into my picture of tranquil joy. Rather I see myself in my little vintage van, a makeshift bookshelf on one side (with the type of elastic bands you use to secure the load carried on bicyles, strapped along each row of books to prevent them from sliding of during one of my infrequent drives) and customers in a nice, meandering queue, as calm as they are happy.