Useful Beautiful Enough
We’ve recently moved to a new home—San Remo, a small fisherman’s village on the Bass Coast in Victoria. This move is part of our gentle process of downsizing, preparing for our older years.
A jetty-turned-bridge connects this little village to Phillip Island, and every day the pelican feeding draws curious visitors. San Remo carries layers of heritage: the deep history of the Bunurong people who lived here for thousands of years, early colonial footprints, and a proud maritime industry. Fresh fish is always close at hand. The town also serves as a gateway to Phillip Island, so many travellers pause here for coffee or a meal of delicious fish before continuing on.
Last weekend, my dog Archie and I set out on the well-known Bass Coast walk from San Remo to Kilcunda—a dramatic cliff-top trail with sweeping views of Bass Strait and the rugged local terrain. The walk takes two to three hours one way, depending on your pace. The sky was overcast, which made for perfect walking weather—I would have struggled in the heat. We strode at a good pace, and my body ached for two days afterward! The path changes constantly: slashed grass, formed tracks, steep climbs, and /;. cliff-top sections. It’s rated moderate, with some slippery patches after rain. After weeks of wet weather, I can confirm that “slippery” is an understatement.
Archie was remarkable. He seemed to sense when I needed help, pulling me steadily up the hills when my legs gave out, yet never tugging me off course the way dogs usually do.
Through all this, I remain mindful of my philosophy of intentional living: to own only what is useful and beautiful. This way of thinking values quality over quantity and helps me resist excess. I began this practice more than twenty years ago and still find it difficult. Each move reminds me how much I accumulate despite my best intentions. Renting while we build—and living with only what we’ve unpacked—shows me how little I truly need.
The challenge, of course, is balance: how to hold onto simplicity and lightness while keeping the things that are beautiful to me, even if not “useful.” I’ve always loved a cozy home filled with fabrics, art, and furniture that has travelled with me for many years.
As many of you know, I create art daily. This practice doesn’t always sit easily beside my desire to live with less, but I keep at it. For me, owning only what is beautiful and useful isn’t about perfection—it’s about intention. It’s about living with care, blending aesthetics with purpose, and cultivating gratitude for both art and everyday life.
