Morning Rituals
The morning stirs quietly. In the dim light, the kitchen still holds the warmth of yesterday. The kettle sits on the stove top, its metal dulled by years of use. The water begins to boil, a soft murmur filling the air. My hand reaches out to grip it, the motion almost instinctive, shaped by countless mornings like this. It's a simple act, yet it carries the promise of the day ahead.
In the bedroom, the linen sheets hold memories of summer. Delicate imprints of grasses appear in soft, earthy tones - yellows and browns that speak of days spent in the fields under the sun. This fabric, with its texture and imperfect hues, wraps around me still, like a quiet, comforting whisper.
Outside, the cold bites at my skin, but my fingers close around the kindling. Twigs and small branches, gathered and brought inside, are ready to spark the fire. This simple act - placing the wood, hearing it crackle, feeling the warmth rise - holds the beauty of life's essentials.
Each morning, in these suspended moments, I find a part of myself. Between the singing kettle, the linen carrying the past, and the fire coming back to life, there's an invitation to slow down, to notice. To welcome the light of a new day with gratitude.
Frosted Silence
The landscape feels frozen in a deep breath. Frost coats everything - every blade of grass, every stone, every shadow. The first rays of daylight glide across this crystalline blanket, making the world shimmer with a soft, almost otherworldly glow.
The view is vast and open, yet everything here invites introspection. The frost transforms the landscape, erasing the details to leave only what's essential: shape, texture, history. It's a suspended moment, a pause in the rush of daily life.
The buron, the frost, the sky… It all forms a scene that asks for nothing, yet offers everything.
The Expanses of Aubrac
There are mornings when everything seems to align with an almost primal simplicity. The air is sharp, biting, and each breath feels like it’s clearing away the cluttered thoughts, leaving space for a quiet stillness within.
On the Aubrac plateau, the light dances across the dry grasses, creating a palette of golden browns. The fields stretch endlessly toward the horizon, where earth and sky blend into a soft line. It’s a rugged, raw landscape, yet never unwelcoming. Here, you feel a visceral connection to what truly matters.
Wrapped in layers of wool, I stand facing this open, boundless space. My hat is pulled low over my ears, and my woven scarf holds all the warmth of the moment. The wind brushes against my cheek, leaving a crispness that makes my heart beat a little faster.
Mornings like this are a reminder. An invitation to slow down, to listen to what the land has to whisper. Here, everything feels clearer: the value of simple things, the importance of time taken to observe, to feel. Aubrac is not just a backdrop; it is a guide, an ancient breath that connects us to what has always been.
Moments in Aubrac…
Simplicity and poetry outdoors… Some days, silence seems to settle into every corner of the landscape. On the high plateaux of Aubrac, everything stretches as far as the eye can see: rolling fields, stone walls, and an endless sky blending into the horizon.
It’s here that I find the very essence of what I want to convey through my creations- through the textures, colors, and warmth of Tilly Niel products.
I set up near my cousin’s buron, on a land where the wind whispers memories of another time. The winter sun hangs low, casting a golden, honest light, perfect for accompanying a steaming cup of tea. The dented kettle, warm to the touch, catches the light, transforming into something precious in its simplicity.
A naturally dyed cushion rests against the rough stone of the buron, capturing the tones of the dried grasses surrounding it. The orange hues of the fabric evoke sunlit earth, a soothing contrast to the bluish, dusty tones of the old window- a relic from another era.
On a vibrant, weathered checkered cloth, the ceramic cup seems almost rooted in the landscape. Its soft, imperfect texture echoes that of the grasses and stone.
These objects, simple in their design, are meant to reflect the richness of things made with care. Each plant dye and every stitch tells a story, a connection to the land and its endless nuances.
These moments are precious. They celebrate slowness, a connection to what surrounds us, and a quiet intimacy with materials. This is what I hope to share through Tilly Niel: items made to be lived with, to accompany moments like this, where the everyday pauses and makes room for the essential.
Simple pleasures...
Enjoying these lazy sundays by the lake in the fall… A mohair blanket, a sweater, a warm drink and a blackberry pie… Hum! Heaven on earth!
Tattooed pillows...
The tattooed pillows… Elevate your sleep experience with our lovely linen pillowcases.
Crafted from 100% linen, our pillowcases are breathable and moisture-wicking, ensuring a cool and comfortable sleep throughout the night. Linen's natural properties help regulate temperature, making it ideal for year-round use.
Soon in the shop!
Soon in the shop, an exquisite collection of plant-dyed oven mitts!
Crafted with care, these oven mitts are an essential tool for safe cooking and an environmentally friendly accessory that reflect a commitment to a sustainable living.
Summer tattoos...
The warm light of late summer casts a golden glow over the landscape, softening the outlines of trees and fields around the studio…
Bathing everything in a gentle embrace, creating a serene atmosphere that feels so much comforting.
Shadows lengthen, revealing intricate patterns on the ground, while the air is infused with subtle scents of ripening fruits and blooming flowers. Each breath taken in this tranquil setting carries the warmth of the season, a reminder of the joy that summer brings, even as it quietly begins to fade…
The last days of summer...
As the long summer days begin to wane, a sense of nostalgia settles in, marking the end of the holidays.
Our picnics on the rolling heath, the refreshing swims and the long afternoons spent fishing by the shimmering lake. The peaceful rhythm of casting lines and reeling in the catch… Hum! Sweet nostalgia…
