The ‘Green Google’ Alternative

“Google it!” I used to say a few times a week, but no longer…


Because I’ve just discovered an amazing green search engine called Ecosia.

They’re a B Corporation (the equivalent of Fair Trade certification) German company that uses the money they earn from ads to plant trees. Literally millions of trees. They’ve planted 4.7 million so far!

I’ve made Ecosia my default search engine. It’s such a simple change to make. I’ve been using it for a week and, while I admit it’s not quite as perfect as Google (it’s powered by Bing and Yahoo because Google didn’t want to partner with a “charitable” company), it’s still fantastic for most searches and totally worth the change.

And if you can’t find what you’re looking for, you can always hop back onto Google after planting a tree.

Ecosia even displays how many trees you’ve planted with a cute little tree counter in the top corner.

It’s amazing to think that if Ecosia had as many users as Google, they would have the power to end deforestation.


National Tree Day

It was National Tree Day in Australia on the weekend. To celebrate, I visited my favourite mangrove tree near my house with my sister and wrote a little poem to share with you…


Let me bury my feet
in the dark earth
for a time.

I want cracked bark
to grow over my smooth skin
and the winds
to toss my bones about.

I want to sprout leaves
in the spring time
and learn how to speak
with their rustling language.

And in the winter time
I want to learn
how to be silent.

In the droughts
I will
force my roots deeper
and deeper
into the
dark dirt
when the rain comes,
I will drink
as I stand
up to my knees
in thick mud.

And after a long while,
just perhaps,
I’ll lift my feet
out of the earth
and it will feel strange
to walk away.

Handmade Paper Journals

I’ve been busy lately, making stacks of handmade paper, collecting twigs and binding these little journals. I’m excited to say, they’re finally available on my Etsy shop! And I’ll be taking them to my next market – Kirribilli Art & Design on Mother’s Day. Here are a few pics of these delicate creations… IMG_9829photoshopped_1IMG_9831photoshopped_1IMG_9837photoshoppedIMG_9855photoshoppedIMG_9845photoshoppedIMG_9850photoshoppedIMG_9833photoshopped_1IMG_9842photoshopped

Falling Leaves and Feathers

The other day, I read a few of Pablo Neruda’s odes as it rained outside. His poems are so perfectly beautiful and inspired marvellous images inside my head!

Below are my drawings for Ode to a watch in the night


The first drawing ended up working perfectly as a pattern! Feels like a winter’s night :-)

Falling Leaves and Feathers Pattern

Ode to a watch in the night

In the night, in your hand

my watch glowed

like a firefly.

I heard

its ticking:

like a dry whisper

it arose

from your invisible hand.

Then your hand

returned to my dark breast

to gather my sleep and its pulse.

The watch

went on cutting time

with its little saw.

As in a forest

fragments of wood,

tiny drops, pieces

of branches or nests


without changing the silence,

without ending the cool darkness,


from your invisible hand

the watch went on cutting

time, time,

and minutes fell

like leaves,

fibers of broken time,

little black feathers.

As in the forest

we smelled roots,

somewhere water released

a fat drop

like a wet grape.

A little mill

was grinding the night,

the shadow whispered

falling from your hand

and filled the earth.


earth, distance,

my watch in the night

was grinding and grinding

from your hand.

I put

my arm

under your invisible neck,

under its warm weight,

and in my hand

time fell,

the night,

little noises

of wood and forest,

of divided night,

of fragments of shadow,

of water that falls and falls:

then sleep fell

from the watch and from

your two sleeping hands,

it fell like the dark water

of the forests,

from the watch

to your body,

from you toward countries,

dark water,

time that falls

and runs

inside us.

And that’s how it was, that night,

shadow and space, earth

and time,

something that runs and falls

and passes.

And that’s how all the nights

go over the earth,

leaving only a vague

black odor.

A leaf falls,

a drop

on the earth

muffles its sound,

the forest sleeps, the waters,

the meadows,

the bells,

the eyes.

I hear you and you breathe,

my love,

we sleep.

Translated by Stephen Mitchell; Taken from the book The Essential Neruda Selected Poems.