the sun room
weekly writings on living a quiet life that centres joy, hobbies and self-reflection
- Indexed issues, last 90 days
- 7
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- Oct 1, 2026
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- Jul 20, 2026
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thoughts on: does the perfect sunday really exist? (opens the original)
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what does having the perfect sunday look like? does the perfect sunday really exist? somewhere in my mind i think it’s something people have just made up, something that doesn’t really happen, like instagram profiles, it’s all just an intangible idea of something.i guess there is something within me that denies myself complete luxury. sometimes i tap my card on a card reader in a shop and think i probably don’t need this thing, i would probably be better off saving this money, but i buy it anywa
5 projects i’m starting this autumn to keep the scrolling & sadness away (opens the original)
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it never creeps up on you does it? in the spring, if you’re lucky, you’ll notice tiny green buds dotted across bare branches, ready to birth new life and then all of a sudden the next time you look, those same branches are filled with bright and bushy luscious green leaves. the same can be said for autumn. one minute you’re enjoying a long summer’s eve and the next you’ve found a deep navy blue blanket has descended onto the sky and it’s only 7 pm. this time of year is a challenge for me every y
finding a hobby that feels like home (opens the original)
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it’s been another uncharacteristically busy month for the so-called severe introvert that i am. back to back shifts at work, notting hill carnival over the bank holiday weekend, painting pottery with my best friend to celebrate her birthday, a mini holiday with my fiancé’s family and a bout of bad luck, including all trains being cancelled the day i had to go into london, that would not let up. i am pleased to report now that the curse has been lifted and i am back to regular life, but the exhau
am i still a writer? (opens the original)
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i wrote a short story a couple of months ago and thought i had finally reached out far enough to get a solid grip on the dream of becoming a real writer in my hand, only for it to turn to silk and slip from my fingers almost immediately.i went to the library and printed it off, all 22 pages, spent nearly a whole five pounds doing so, and said i would go through it line by line with my pink muji ink pen and edit it, work on it, read it over and over until i thought it was perfect. i said i would
realising i can't write a book, buying (another) gaming console, my first yoga class, a solo trip to cambridge & more (opens the original)
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i wait for july every year like someone politely waiting for everyone to receive their food at a restaurant before tucking into their plate. it’s my birthday month, and no matter how old i get, i will always look forward to julys.but this one was a fast one. my calendar was dotted with lots of little things—my first yoga class, my fiancé’s (!) birthday, my mum coming to visit, his mum coming to visit—i’m a little tired, but in all the right ways. i also got a huge amount of time off which was so
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