
Isabella was a fan of photography. She had purchased some pieces from a couple of local artists and had strategically placed them in her staircase gallery. For hours, Isabella would perch on the stairs admiring the images. Sometimes, she would take her journal and write about how the images made her feel, about the ‘story’ behind the images, their composition, the light, the dark, the shadows. Once, Isabella decided to do her journal-ling after a few too many wines. Unfortunately staircases and inebriation do not mix. Isabella again learned this valuable lesson when her right Achilles heal was sliced open by the sharp edge of every step in her staircase gallery.






The rain had been pouring for days and at the first sight of sunlight, Isabella jumped into the hammock. The hammock had followed Isabella from house to house. It was a reminder that every now and again Isabella had to stop, breathe and soak in the goodness of her very being. It also served as a fabulous hangover cure – a lesson she learned in Fiji – hammock + shade from a palm tree + gentle sea breeze = loveliness. Isabella believed “Hammock Time” was a good substitute for “Fiji Time” where clocks were banished and things happened when they happened and if they didn’t – no matter. Oh, the freedom of “Fiji Time” is never far from Isabella’s thoughts. Bula.
