Have you ever found yourself in a moment that was so perfect you felt too frightened to even breathe for fear it might be broken? A brief, profound instant when you felt completely aligned and in harmony with your surroundings? So submerged that it seemed as though the physical world had paused around you? These moments of utter contentment are so fleeting and most of the time we never really remember them. We cherish the moment and then move on to the next chapter of the day, often without a backward glance. Whilst these brief, beatific seconds don’t tell the full story of our lives, they are like tiny snippets of colourful fabrics, which when sewn together create a quilt, a glimpse of our journeys and heritages. Over the years we have found many ways to record our daily lives, from ancient Egyptian hieroglyphs to the advent of photography, each of us documenting our lives and the societies in which we have lived to help fill the history books.
Read MoreFor me, January is the slowest month. It has an honesty and effortlessness to it after the frivolities and chaos of December. Each day is fleeting, holding within it the briefest of moments, which fall untarnished and remain unmarked as the sun fades and time disappears into nothingness. Despite the shorter days, I feel as though I have all the time in the world. There is nothing pressing to do and very little to occupy my mind. It's too early for my seedlings to appear or to start the ritual of spring cleaning the house and it's too late to worry about the things that I didn't achieve last year. The mistakes I had previously made and the worries that I had carried with me were put to bed as I turned over the page of my new calendar.
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