Tag: recovery

  • Finding a Tracey Emin Instagram Post

    Screenshot of a written Instagram post by Tracey Emin (@traceyeminstudio). The caption describes seeing a small Roman artefact at Frieze Masters — “a tiny little Roman hand” — and reflects on illness, exhaustion, and changing priorities, ending with: “I want to be cosy and safe, making my work, singing to my cats. The list of priorities has began.”

    I came across this Instagram post from Tracey Emin in the middle of the night — drinking (decaffeinated) tea, drawing, and quietly scrolling on my phone.

    She wrote about the aftermath of Frieze Masters — the exhaustion that followed, days spent in bed with chronic flu and infection, and the sense that her “going out days are vastly coming to an end.”

    There’s a raw honesty in her words, and a tenderness too. Reading them in my half-awake, foggy-brained state, I felt an immediate recognition — the pull toward stillness, the need to stay close to what matters, to accept the body’s limits and still keep making.

    “I want to be cosy and safe, making my work, singing to my cats. The list of priorities has began.”
    — Tracey Emin

    That line lingers. A reminder that slowing down isn’t necessarily stopping — that work, care, and living can continue quietly, within smaller boundaries. Sometimes the most enduring persistence is simply remaining present.

  • Back to Tea Made with a Teabag

    A sketchbook drawing of a morning tea tray showing an oat milk carton, a mug, a spoon, and a small dish holding a used teabag. Soft green wash surrounds the objects, and handwritten text reads “Back to tea made with a teabag…”

    Today’s Tea-Tray drawing. The text reads:

    Back to tea made with a teabag…

    It almost feels like the drawing is sighing along with me. Recovery, it seems, isn’t all in one direction…

    I kept this one as simple as possible. I was tempted — ready with my Forest Green Derwent Lightfast pencil in hand — to draw the Moomins too, but in the end decided I couldn’t quite face it. I’m trying to let this be enough today.

    The oat milk carton, the mug, the used teabag — small, familiar company on the tray. A quiet morning, drawn as best I could.

    A close-up of the same drawing, focusing on the mug and the small dish with the used teabag. The pencil lines and green wash are clearly visible, with the handwritten words “Back to tea made with a teabag…” just above.
  • Tea Made in a Teapot (Not a Teabag in Sight!)

    Sketchbook open to a drawing of a teapot, oat milk carton, and mug, placed beside the real objects — green teapot, stainless-steel flask, and mug on a patterned tablecloth. The handwritten text in the sketchbook reads: ‘Tea made in a teapot (not a teabag in sight!!). The first time since Covid. A sign that things are improving.

    Today’s Tea-Tray drawing, Tea Made in a Teapot (Not a Teabag in Sight!)

    Notes: A drawing of my morning tea-tray scene — teapot, Oatly carton, Go Gently mug and flask accompanied by handwritten text:

    “Tea made in a teapot (not a teabag in sight!!). The first time since Covid. A sure sign that things are improving.”

    This feels like gentle milestone marking recovery and the quiet return of ritual; I hope that the drawing combines a little humour, care, and gratitude within the familiar rhythm of morning tea.

    Sketchbook drawing of a teapot, oat milk carton, and mug. Handwritten text reads: ‘Tea made in a teapot (not a teabag in sight!!). The first time since Covid. A sign that things are improving.’ The page captures a return to ritual and gentle humour after illness.
  • Trying to remember to drink my tea slowly

    Sketchbook open to a drawing of a mug, teapot, and carton of Oatly Barista Edition oat milk, placed beside the real items on a tray. The handwritten text reads: ‘My favourite oat milk was on offer this week (Oatly Barista chilled). Trying to remember to enjoy my tea slowly, rather than rushing into the day and letting it get cold.’ A warm, humorous reflection on slowing down and beginning the day gently.

    Today’s tea-tray drawing, Trying to remember to drink my tea slowly.

    The text on the drawing reads:

    My Favourite oat milk was on offer this week (Oatly Barista chilled). Trying to remember to enjoy my tea slowly, rather than rushing into the day and letting it get cold.

    Rushing to try and avoid that I’m not feeling well this morning? Making rather a mess of this.

    Sketchbook drawing showing a carton of Oatly Barista Edition oat milk, a mug, and a teapot. Handwritten text reads: ‘My favourite oat milk was on offer this week (Oatly Barista chilled). Trying to remember to enjoy my tea slowly, rather than rushing into the day and letting it get cold.’ A gentle note on patience, care, and self-observation.