I’m not clay. 

Dear friends and other interesting creatures,

Someone will always be prettier. Someone will always be smarter. Someone will always be younger. But they will never be YOU.

(…. and that is your power)

My mind is running through rooms and passages. Entrance halls, back alleys and winding paths in lavish parks. From grey shady sidewalks to the green in treeline streets.

Walk with me.

Being alive remains wildly popular regardless of the harshness and beauty of reality. While my emotions range from joy to despair on any given day, the delight of possibility is addictive.

It actually makes little difference what tomorrow holds when one dreams in colour. The promise of the future being greater than today. When you stop dreaming you will surely become the living dead.

I crave to be understood. Not liked or agreed with. Big difference. Sometimes I follow verbal conversation with text. In explanation, I hope for tangible understanding. Not everyone will take the time to attempt to truly grasp who you are, why you act and say what you do. That is okay. You are not for everybody. 

I need to be me in a world that handed society the power to define what is acceptable and appropriate. I like the core me. I’m good people. There is so much more to who I am than purple hair, tattoos and a wicked sense of funny.

Focus on the people who appreciate your authentic, eccentric self. Those people you can win a war with. They are your tribe. They will never need convincing of your worth. They will remind you when YOU forget.

Don’t apologise for what you are not. You cannot be all things to all people. You are not salted caramel. 🙂

The moment you start caring what other people think, how they will react, what they will say… you are giving away your power.  Your self worth are at the mercy of their approval. Stop that, why subject yourself to such nonsense? You need your approval. You need to be okay with you. 

In any situation, you take yourself with you. Make sure you like who travels with you. 

A ball of clay. I don’t bend that way.
“Clay” by Grace Vanderwaal

Your silly words
I won’t live inside your world
‘Cause your punches and your names
All your jokes and stupid games
They don’t work
No, they don’t hurt
Watch them just go right through me
Because they mean nothing to me

I’m not clay

Try to change my shape
But, baby, I’m not clay
Sorry, not today
‘Cause, baby, I’m not clay

I wish you enough,

Wenchy x

The girl I never knew I needed. Happy 18th birthday Queen Victoria. 

Dear friends and other interesting creatures,  

As far as I was concerned, I was about to welcome baby Elijah into the world and like his brothers, he was going to love football #YNWA, riding scooters and generally misbehaving with ample corner time!

The most precious little chicken ever born our Victoria is. 

On your 18th birthday I’d like to share a few thoughts with you. 

  • Live a life where you can face yourself at 3am. 
  • Accept your flaws without punishing yourself. 
  • Commit to challenging yourself to live your best life. Add a hashtag if you must. 
  • Trust your own sense of inner peace, it usually delivers. 
  • Love abundantly. 
  • Forgive. Grudges are heavy to carry. 
  • Believe people when they show you who they are. 
  • Be independent. Regardless of the details of your life.
  • Define your own path. Do not accept anyone else’s version of how you should live your life. 
  • It is okay not to know the answer. 
  • Embrace vulnerability. To be vulnerable is to be alive. 
  • Read. Sing. Dance. Laugh. Never point. 
  • Do nice things for others for no reason. 
  • Keep your brothers close. 
  • Phone your parents. 
  • Believe. 
  • You are everything, and then some. 

I love you more than all the beachsand in all the world. Happy, happy birthday Tori. 

I wish you enough 


A Daughter is just a little girl who grows up to be your best FRIEND.

I am a fairy. Who knew Peter Pan? 

Dear friends and other interesting creatures, 

I have hundreds of books. Literally. One entire room of floor to ceiling book cases, running three levels deep. 

Digitally my collection of books run into thousands. My Kindle after five years of loving care – died. Bloody rude. A need for perfume, purple glitter and to be truthful, more books,  have stopped me from purchasing a new Kindle as I can’t afford it. This is very sad. Benefactor welcome

Liam James suggested I be lovely and donate some of my books to the library. Excellent, but beige. It is so “have been done before“.  I needed to find another way to share my treasure and bless the world.

I found #ibelieveinbookfairies quite by accident on Instagram and then, read up on Facebook. It is an international initiative where books are gifted, left in random locations, longing to be found.

I love a good longing. Giving gifts, the element of surprise and spreading unexpected joy. I’m a sentimental sod. 

I sprinkled fairy dust as I left a book at Montecasino on my way to the theatre. Magical. Yay!

A book lying idle on a shelf is wasted ammunition. Like money, books must be kept in constant circulation… A book is not only a friend, it makes friends for you. When you have possessed a book with mind and spirit, you are enriched. But when you pass it on you are enriched threefold.

-Henry Miller

I would love to know who found the book! 

I wish you enough 


And all that’s best of dark and bright. 

My dear Tim,

I was asked who you were to me this week. For the first time in 18 years, I managed to explain your accidental death and our relationship in only a few lines. I spoke with clarity, tenderness, and honesty.

My Tim

Thank you for always seeing me… in an ocean of people. You said it was impossible not to. You would be surprised.

I’m sorry for the decision I made for you. Forgive me. A Swan on water.

No more regrets Timmy.
Wench x

PS. I recall the day you recited this to me. It took me by surprise.

She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that’s best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
Thus mellow’d to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impaired the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o’er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.

And on that cheek, and o’er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent. 

–  Lord Byron

Got Milk? 

Dear friends and other interesting creatures, 

This morning I was making coffee and shook the milk bottle. Why exactly, I don’t know. The bottle was not closed properly so as I looked down, droplets of milk all over my breasts. My immediate thought was “Got milk?”. I know, dead sexy right? 

The power of advertising. Twenty years after the series of commercials was first made with celebrities showing off a milk moustache, it was still my first thought. 

I made hot chocolate instead. 

I wish you enough