Friday, April 30, 2010

April comes to a close

And, for some reason, most of my recent pictures seem to be of food in one form or another.

Green eggs and ham, shared with friends from KL before we all sprinted through the Balmain markets.

Yoghurt soft-serve, unexpectedly smooth and tasty. And so dangerously easy for me to get to.

The duck noodles my cousin had, which so beguiled me that I had to return to the restaurant the next night to have my own.

Work lunch at Pino's ended so nicely with the dessert of the day: frozen chocolate mousse triangle with a minted ricotta centre, served with rhubarb sauce and pistachio shards. So, so, so nicely. So... mmmm... *mind wanders up the road to Pino's... wonder what they're serving today? It's ok to splurge on dessert if you've been bringing an ultra healthy (and ultra cheap) lunch every day right? mmmmmm...*

And finally, the scrumptious stickers Alex sent me last year but I could not bring myself to use until now.

Tuesday, April 27, 2010

Happy Birthday Pops!

When I stop to think about it, I realise that I know nobody else with such a capacity for joy even at the worst of times. That's definitely something worth inheriting.

Nope, certainly not the perfect father, just like I'm REALLY not the perfect daughter.

But when all's said and done, I'm glad you got me and I got you.

Thanks for teaching me to get the most out of every part of the journey.

Sunday, April 25, 2010

Melt factor: 100%

Out of all the things to be found on the pedestrian stretch of Dixon that becomes the Chinatown Night Markets on Fridays, this pup is the only one I wished I could take home.

Saturday, April 17, 2010

What happens in Newtown

Not that I mean this to be a guide for what would happen if you went to Newtown. That, you'd have to tell me.

What happens in Newtown, when you're me, is this.

You walk up King St for an hour, and then change directions and walk for another hour. Along the way, you stop in many of the shops selling indie fashion and handmade accessories.

Somewhere around the second of those shops, the introjects you have been carrying around of your mother and grandmother pop up.

Just as you're picking up a pair of very cute bobby pins made out of yo-yos (the fabric ones, not the ones that keep coming back to you -- but oh, how I wished these would come back with me!), fastened with tiny buttons, Mummy's voice pipes up.

"Aren't those just circles of cloth with buttons on them? I could make those!"

And then you wander over to a wallet with an applique owl on it, and out comes Mama. "Aiyo. Look at that. It's just a simple machine applique. I can do that!"

And so, on you go, the two generations chattering along on either side of you while the yo-yos stay on the shelf, their siren calls to you unanswered. For now.

(I'm fully aware that my mother and grandmother are not really in my head. Just so you know. But, you know, a good Chinese mother always makes sure that her voice stays with her descendants long and loud. There are some parts of Chinese motherhood to which I don't necessarily aspire.)

For the rest of your time in Newtown, you may be enticed to enter a second-hand bookshop on the sole grounds of there being a Lat book in the window. The Good Introjects of Newtown will not keep you from buying everything you pick up there, because they cannot write, illustrate, lay out, print and bind a copy of Leunig's When I Talk To You for $5. And so, you will leave with books.

And you will start for home, but all the way on the bus and on the other bus you will think, "But books aren't everything." They're something, that's for sure, but you can't pin them on your hair and look cute, or use them to dress up a plain cotton tote.

By the time you reach home, you will wish more than anything that your needlework supplies consisted of more than four colours of embroidery thread and two metres of plain cheesecloth. Your fingers, even the sore one with the mysterious bruise that has kept you out of 2.5 days' work, will itch to do, to snip and stitch and join and make something.

And then you will remember that last week, you discovered two of your dresses had buttons that were falling off, and decided that it was easier to get rid of all the buttons than to secure the loose ones. And while you kept the cute, oversized buttons in a safe place, you thought, "Someday I'll find something to do with them."

You'll even remember that you have a dastardly habit of saving every bit of fabric that comes your way, even the canvas size tags that come with some brands of jeans.

And, by the end of the evening, the introjects will be patting you on the head with great pride, saying, "See? You would have paid far too much if you'd bought something like that just now."

And you will think, maybe that's true and maybe it does give you a sense of satisfaction, knowing this is the fruit of your creativity... but that doesn't mean I'm not going back to Newtown soon.

And I will leave the voices where they belong: with the owner (grandma) and in the past (mother), respectively. And oh, what fun the yo-yos and I will have.

Friday, April 09, 2010

Beauty in the mundane

The tedious act of filing long-neglected client notes, brightened by the sudden recognition of an old motif friend hiding in full view.

Hello, stripes. Lookin' good, as always. I feel like lengthening you and printing you across a shirt.

Friday, April 02, 2010

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