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matt inwood

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    • Saturday 12th February 2022 online workshop
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Sunny matcha mornings at @avonfieldxtheoldtownhall. Their takeaway menu has recently just gone live, making commuting around west Wiltshire an eminently more pleasurable pastime. Lighting through @theoldtownhall.trowbridge windows really is like nowhere else I photograph. 💚
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So happy for my dear friend, @romygill, who will be taking over @thepemrestaurant at the Conrad London St James from this autumn. News of the appointment broke in the Caterer magazine this morning. It was a pleasure to join Romy and the lovely team at the Pem a few weeks ago to 📸 and get a feel for just how very special this collaboration is going to be. Wishing you all the success you deserve, dear Romy. ❤️
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The field last night: a simple enough vista, made majestic by low-setting light in the west. Nature’s greatest marvel is that it can show to us what we saw only yesterday and several hundred yesterdays and many thousands of hours before and make us believe that we have never stood in that moment and place previously.
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I wrote about returning to work. It’s taken a while to adjust back to the rhythms and demands of work, but it’s now exciting to have fallen back into that flow and to have energy and enthusiasm for creative work once more. Grateful to the many friends (you all know who you are) I have the pleasure of working for and with, and to have some big projects — both photography and design — in the pipeline. Essay over at A Thousand Fragments, via the link in my story.
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In the beautiful woods, @campwell.farm, and a last book shoot day with dear friend @beththefreerangechef for her book #RetreatKitchen, coming next year…
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Mum, I’ll remember you by those same things that have always reminded me of you: the cherry blossom each spring, pulling blackberries in late summer, the cascading scent of rose, soft and pink above a floor of broken eggshell, and knee-high grass. . I’ll find you in the twinkling eyes and mischievous smiles of your granddaughters and through the shimmering soft shadows of a net curtain. Through light bulbs hung bare, sticks of coloured chalk and long-soak bath water in enamel tubs, perfumed by Imperial Leather. There too, in late-night bowls of warm-milk cornflakes; off-license treats of fondant chocolate and bags of pork scratchings; in cake-mix pastes of sugar and butter; in cherryade and ginger-beer and cream-soda thirsts. . I’ll hear you in the quiet of a ticking clock, and in the quietest of quiets, once more sat next to you as you sleep. . I’ll touch you when I hold the hand of my children who are also you, and of a wife who will hold on to me to remember you, too. . I’ll feel closest to you with photos and with words and with memories that have already lost a little of their shape, sharpness and certainty, but remain no less you. . I’ll sit with you again and again and again. Sleep for as long as you need now. I’ll be here: light, light, no longer dark.
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Sundowner, Bradford-on-Avon
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Goodbye sweet Rosie, you will be missed by so many, but forever be remembered and loved. 💙
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I always had so many words for you and yet shared with you so few: you were tired so quickly, so often asleep and so many times just wanting to sit with a silence that we were both happy to share: I loved those quiet hours by your side. And I always had so many words to write about you and yet now – ink-stained but fountainless – I know not where they all reside, only that they are most likely hiding, not lost. I once found words in a tissue you held onto in your sleep; found them again in the fold of your pillow; and had ready an essay of love, built around the spoon and straw with which we fed you, as your life crept into its final dusk hours. I was left with so little to record new moments of the present towards the end, and yet you so often resisted revisiting the past. You seemed content with less, as less became all that we had left. And yet that less was so intensely felt by us all. You shared those last new moments with each of us by your side. Our pain wasn’t your pain at the end; your comfort was our only comfort. Your smile and that twinkle in your eye fluttered in those final hours and your hand was in each of ours, as we loved and stroked you gently into sleep. We’ll miss you so much. . Mum died two weeks ago, surrounded by love, and time has stood more than a little still since. I have shared so many pictures and words about her here in the past. So many of you always left such kind comments. Moving on means marking her passing here, with thanks to those who already knew and to those who have been so kind and supportive these last six or so months as we so closely kept hold of her. ❤️
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🤍
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Seasons change
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The joys of pancake at @avonfieldxtheoldtownhall. Always visit on an empty stomach and always leave with a full and happy heart and Tupperware! Don’t miss out on their Pancake Day specials both at the Town Hall and over at @avonfieldkitchen.
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