[Photo: me, smiling, holding the hand-sewn magpie]

Ciao, I’m the magpie.

Why a magpie?

Magpies are collectors. They have a marvellous eye for shiny things, and they never, ever build a brand-new nest. Instead, they gather what is lying about. A ribbon here, a button there. And somehow, it all becomes home.

I am rather the same. A faded armchair. A length of old linen. A lampshade nobody loved. On their own, you might walk straight past them. Put together, with a little colour and a great deal of cloth, they begin to sing.

That is what I hope to do in your home. Gather what is already there, and help you see it again.

“A word is dead when it is said, some say. I say it just begins to live that day.”

Emily Dickinson · and so it is with a sideboard

A little story

A pająk for our paese

Once upon a winter, our little town held a Christmas competition, and I decided to bring a piece of Poland with me. I made a pająk. It means “spider” in Polish, but this one only ever catches good luck: a paper chandelier, the kind that has hung in Polish cottages for generations, wishing plenty and happiness for the new year.

Beneath it, on the window, I painted our old town walls in watercolour, with all the little houses tucked safely behind them.

So there they were, side by side: the country I come from, and the town that became my home. The pająk won first prize. But mostly, it felt like a wish for all of us.

[My watercolour: the pająk above the old town walls]

Shall we begin?

If the magpie speaks to you, I would love to come and see your home. We will keep as much of its story as we can. A whole room or a single corner, it doesn’t matter. I only hope it becomes your favourite place in your new old home.

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