I'm a bit late to the party; I only started instagramming in January. 2015.

Pretty much all I knew about Instagram, is that it was a visual networking tool, and had been told that as someone in the creative industry with a lot of visual goodness to hand, I should definitely get on board and start sharing. Every time this came up, I wondered whether I really had time to add another social media hole to my belt.

In January we packed up and departed dear Sydney after two years, for a road trip around south west Australia, on our way back to England. It's hard to put into words just what it was we fell for during our time in Oz, difficult to pin point; something about the light and the big skies, the fierce ocean, the sparsity of the population, the down-to-earth warmth of the people and the sense of opportunity and optimism. As our flight took off and over the following months I experienced a profound sense of loss at leaving it all behind.

It was at this time that I started instagramming regularly, really taking notice of beauty every day, in whichever form, whatever I was doing. I wanted to capture it, and be consciously thankful for it all.

Not only have my eyes been opened to what immediately surrounds me, but Instagram also presents me with a constantly updated portfolio-in-my-pocket of inspiration and artistry, generated by the people I follow.

Six months on I am delighted to have built up this precious album, a visual diary documenting my memorable everyday. Instagram has filled a hole I didn't know was there, and contrary to my concerns, it takes but a moment to partake; an instant, if you will.



We're currently between sofas. I joyfully smashed our old (and broken) sofa into splinters with an axe before we left for Sydney (highly recommend to relieve continent-moving stress), and we freecycled our Australian sofa before we moved back here last month. In the interim we're enjoying the enormity of a living room with no furniture in it. It allows us the space to do this.

This Christmas, my thoughtful sister gifted the boys this set of components from Makedo (essentially a set of short zip-ties with securing discs, and hinges), for building a cardboard house. She foresaw that we would have an abundance of boxes following our relocation, and it has proved to be the perfect present.

Progress using the 'child-friendly saw' included in the kit, was slower than slow, so I whipped out my rusty stanley knife and we were away. Safety first. In fact the kit was so easy and speedy to use that we were tripping over ourselves in our haste to attach panel after panel, room after room. It was excellent fun, and the results, while not particularly polished, could not be more satisfying.

If asked for my thoughts on the key to a successful cardboard house, I would encourage you to consider the following:

    1) Include multiple access points for fast chases in, out and through.
    2) Cut in a variety of light-sources/windows to minimise claustrophobia.
    3) Make sure there is a flow through the interior space to prevent traffic jams.
    4) Construct a sturdy structure to increase the life-span of the house.
    5) Leave part of the roof untethered (to rescue folk in high-octane situations).

Please note: yellow zip ties in the photos are not part of the Makedo kit. Our ambition slightly exceeded the number of components included, so we had to employ common-or-garden zip ties to fill in.