There are certain objects I’ve come to rely on, they mark out small territories of calm. In a restless world, they give shape to stillness.
None of them are extraordinary. In fact, that’s the point. They are ordinary things, made well, used often.
The Urbanist Tote
Built for movement. My carry wear is sturdy, spacious, unbothered by weather or wear, my backpack up-cycled from polyester twill (disused advertising banner).
When I pack my tote I feel ready for the day. It speaks to my love of design that works hard but stays understated.
The Nomad Journal
I like journals that wear in, whose pages don’t resist the scrawl of a fast thought. The cover of the one I use now is made from recycled vehicle tyres, a homage to all my treks.
Writing by hand slows me down. The physical act of it: pen on paper, the deliberate pause is a small act of claiming time for myself. It doesn’t matter what I write. Most of it stays unread.
The Luminous Candle
Evenings, though, belong to other rituals. I am currently burning a vanilla scent from Charlotte Rhys.
A simple thing, but it changes the room completely. There’s a shift when the scent begins to rise, when the light flickers against the walls. It signals to my brain: work is over, you can rest now.
The Fragrant Incense
Incense has the ability to transport my mind, somewhere else entirely. Whether it is a sunlit studio, a casbah, a quiet mountain retreat, scent takes me to a place where time is slower and silence holds more weight.
Depending on the mood I am in I will pick from the ensemble of fragrances that will carry me through the day or night. I have a leaning for white sage in the morning and vanilla in the evenings.
The Ritual Mug
There’s something comforting about the weight of a mug, the way both hands naturally wrap around it. A solid, honest vessel designed not just for drinking but for pausing.
From my morning turmeric tonic, to local rooibos, to my speciality dark roasts from Ethiopia each beverage is an elixir to the soul.
The Kikoi Wrap
Endlessly adaptable: scarf, shawl, impromptu blanket. Soft from use, faintly scented from all the places it’s travelled with me. The olive green I adorn now I picked up at a market from a Kenyan lady in the midlands.
It turns whatever surface into a small sanctuary. It speaks to my love of travel – light, simple & full of stories.
The Heavy Pen
This pen matters to me because it feels solid in hand. Cool at first touch, warming with use. Writing with it slows me down, words feel deliberate, weighty and worth keeping.
It transports me to quiet studies, to old desks, to moments when thoughts turn physical. It reveals my craving for permanence in a fleeting world.
The Swiss Army Knife
Perhaps my more adventurous artefact. I keep the thoughts of this one to myself and my urban science projects.
These items are part of my personal architecture. They are small markers of my place in the Universe and tools I use to navigate the World.
These are items I have learned to protect.