Final

I know many days have passed but it is only now that I feel the finality of things. The last meeting and the little reminder on a card made me a little more introspective than I usually allow myself to be. Cards are important things, the written thoughts and feelings encapsulated forever in words. Unlike memory, these won’t ever fade.

It was a leap of faith, to agree and than promise to bring something to live. To breathe into the characters lying between words personas, to create out of absolutely nothing the people to populate the world. But it wasn’t what was created that made me feel as empowered as I do. It was how people felt. The audience, naturally, but the other members of the show more importantly. To know that there was collaborative momentum really inspired me.

I cannot put into words the things I feel. But it feels incredible.

And I sat there, overwhelmed.

At the end of it all, it was never really about any one person, was it? It had always been about a group of people that came together, and created a little world much better than the one we knew and understood. It was about the place, the people, the emotions, and the story that was made more real that it had the right to be.

It was never about the lights, nor the sound. Not the diction, not the blocking, not the song and not the mistakes. It was the world, it was creation.

It was about sitting there and watching everyone do their best, and be so touched it hurt to see it end. But then, to still stand strong and be the usual cheerful self because there was no place for sadness. Standing up there during the curtain call, I almost felt embarrassed. Why was I standing there when I had no role in the performance? The credits were to the creators and movers of the world, not the one who sat in front all along and pointed out mistakes. That was hardly difficult.

I knew that everyone did their best, that everyone who made mistakes were incredibly affected by it and that there was pride in the production. Please understand that mistakes were unacceptable only up to the last rehearsal, on the actual performance, perfection was judged by the things we did right and not the ones we fumbled on.

It was quite an experience. But most importantly, all I could only ask for people to feel theatre and to know how it could make you feel more alive, more real.

D-day

For today’s breakfast, you’ll need:

One wholemeal English muffin, split in half and toasted,
two tablespoons of natural peanut butter,
half a banana (sliced),
a generous sprinkle of ground cinnamon, and
a whole lot of excitement for what is to come.

Good morning.

Cheesecake

People often get themselves too involved in the frilly mess, thinking that other people might enjoy it. Often, a simple showcase of affection is all that is necessary. The vibrance of a red rose, the sharp corners of a hand-written card and the modest attempt at writing neatly, and the commitment to show a little care is often more powerful than some cumbersome bouquet of flowers. Also, what on Earth do you do with an entire bouquet?

It is called a celebration of love, but there is nothing to glorify about love. Love itself is a celebration that is ever-present so why the need to highlight what is obvious?

It is not the love that deserves celebration, it is the act of giving that we must commemorate. A friend once told me, gently but sagely, to “give, and keep giving”.

I agree.

Follow

Ice-cream on a wintry day and an active effort not to worry makes for an amazing evening. The staff can get the ice-cream topping wrong, or dispense too little of it, but nothing can spoil an evening you decide to make good.

So make it good.

Because I poach eggs for myself, regularly

I think niceties are now considered old-fashioned. Out of style, perhaps. It depends, really, on whether we choose to dwell on the littlest things we notice. Small things, after all, tell us most about the people are are in contact with and we may choose to be affected, or not.

I guess it is a sense of jadedness, but not really. Perhaps, it is just a more realistic view of the world, a little more mature I will admit, but nothing extremist. When you see a lack of reciprocity, it haunts you, because you cannot get that image out of your head. It eats you little by little until, eventually, you choose to let go.

“Let what go?” you may ask, but that is the tough part that I cannot answer for you. It may be the incident, or the person. Either way, it is liberation from expectations.

Free yourself, and treat yourself better.

Fold

I know I make a lot of sweets, but a man can’t live on sugar and butter alone. Making savoury food is a whole new game with more freedom for innovation.

Pork and prawn dumplings with spring onion and water chestnut. To most, the prawn would appear to be the most important ingredient but I personally think that the water chestnut is more critical. Perhaps it is because I’ve always been told by my Mother than water chestnut is essential in any respectable dumplings. The dumplings were made near the Chinese New Year when, I assume, Mother’s words seemed exceptionally clear. It is a time for reunion and celebration though many of us were undoubtedly distant from our families.

The act of making the dumplings, similar to what we do at home during periods of festivity, made me feel a little settled. It reassured me that somethings don’t change, regardness of distance.

For instance, the appropriateness of water chestnuts and wisdom from Mother.

Happy Chinese New Year

This is what was eaten the morning of Chinese New Year. Nothing in it was oriental, but nothing needed to be.

Happy CNY to all who celebrates. It is supposed to be a time for reunions and celebrations, but for those far from home, all we can do it to take comfort in the fact that distance can be inconsequential.

There are many potential greetings, but all I wish for is good health and fitness of mind to everyone I care about, especially the family.
:]

Realise

We are different things to different people. This is absolutely normal.

But it scares me.

Sold

I’ve always wanted to sell the treats I bake but have always found it hard. Not only because I don’t see how anyone in the right mind would pay me to get some non-uniform dessert that, honestly, doesn’t look all that fabulous. Also, it is hard because I started to bake because I wanted to give joy away. It took an opportune event and a little leap of faith to go for it, to have half a stall with those I could trust and sell the treats. I might have worried too little about the profit while focusing too much on the quality because I’m a bad businessman like that.

There are patisseries all around selling perfected frosted cupcakes, professionally finished cakes and pastries of flavours aplenty while what comes out of my kitchen is rough, hand-frosted, not exactly uniform or display case-worthy. I would say they are homely, but that would be me trying to convince myself that the disfigurations are acceptable.

But we sold them all. People came, though mostly our friends, and people bought. They ate it and I can only allow myself to imagine they genuinely liked it, any other conclusion would lead to some ugly confrontation with my cupcake tin.

There are only a few things I think I do well, and showing gratitude is definitely not one. So here I go. Thanks to those who made the sale possible. The energy, conceptualisation, faith but mostly the tolerance. I would never be able to abide with a persona like mine as I do think I am rather difficult. How anyone puts up with me is way beyond my understanding. So thanks for the faith, but it is so much more than that.

I learnt a lot, I think. Thanks all.