Hello, and welcome. I’m so glad you’ve found your way here.

This little corner of the internet is a kind of tidepool for me — a place to gather small, glinting moments and let them catch the light. I imagine it like the windowsill in my kitchen: sun-warmed, a bit cluttered, always changing with the seasons. Sea glass. Lavender. A well-thumbed paperback left spine-up beside a cooling mug of mint tea.

I’m Blythe. I live in a salt-faded cottage just off the harbourfront in St Ives, Cornwall. I’m a ceramic artist, a sea swimmer, a quiet romantic. My days are shaped by tide tables and teacups, studio playlists and secondhand books stacked like cairns beside the bed. I believe in the beauty of things that are slightly imperfect — mugs with thumbprints, dog-eared pages, letters smudged with rain.

This blog is a way of gathering what I love — a kind of journal, really. Expect glimpses from the studio, bookish ramblings, coastal wanderings, and the sort of seasonal rituals that make ordinary days feel a little more alive. There will be reading lists and shelf musings, favourite lines underlined in pencil, and maybe even the occasional fictional character I’m quietly in love with. (Aren’t we all?) I’ll write about what I’m making, what I’m reading, what I’m noticing — the golden hour light, the first elderflowers, a phrase I can’t stop turning over in my mind.

So whether you’re here by chance or curiosity, I hope this space feels like a quiet tidepool you can dip into now and then. Like walking into a bookshop on a rainy afternoon, with no plans except to linger.

The kettle’s on. There’s a spot by the window. I’m so glad you’re here.

With warmth,
Blythe

“Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?”
— Mary Oliver