Posts from August 2020

hold the mayo

August 14, 2020

What turns me off slaw is the mayo. I’m not a fan of mayonnaise. But this lovely recipe from Aussie cook and author, Julia Busuttil Nishimura uses parmesan to capture the creaminess of mayo. I can’t think of a more heavenly dinner, than a piece of fish or steak on the barbecue served with this crisp and crunchy salad.


August 14, 2020

There’s a Greek saying, “the first child is for you, the second is for your child.” The third, I’d say is for the whole family. At least, that is what Luma is for us. She is being raised by us all, and is the sum of all our parts. I had been ambivalent about having a third child, and not because I didn’t feel another baby in my bones, but because it’s hard to listen to the body when the mind is so vocal. The second she took her first breath, I let go of mine. In the weeks and months after she was born, I’d walk past a familiar tree or house and think to myself, last time I walked by this tree, Luma didn’t exist. What a different world that was. Suddenly, wooden benches and window sills, the Chestnut Tree in my neighbour’s garden, all looked different. Everything came into focus. “You are the sweetest story ever told. Of how light became a person.” It’s your Birthday next week, and we’re all anticipating the day as much, if not more, than you are. We have a scooter for you, and butterfly wings.


August 12, 2020

I watched Dirty Dancing yesterday, and it made me nostalgic for the Catskills. The Catskills and cinched waists. Every year, for the last few years, we’ve piled into the car and headed to Upstate New York. Last year, we began in Rhinebeck and ended up in the Adirondacks. We’ve explored all the little towns in and around the Catskills and the Hudson Valley, and we always come home with treasures a plenty; a racing green ceramic bowl handmade in Kingston, a beautiful straw hat made by a Hudson milliner, alpaca stuffies from a farm in Roscoe, an ostrich egg from a local farmer’s market in Rhinebeck. Today, I came across the work of  Blackcreek Mercantile & Trading Co. They’re based in Kingtson, and make breathtaking furnishings in solid wood. While a dining room table wouldn’t fit in our boot, I look forward to one day bringing home a hand turned salad bowl or two.

angle mine

August 11, 2020

My kids have been baking cakes this week, the ones that comes straight out of a box. There’s something so sweet and nostalgic about a box cake. I used to make Angel Food Cake all the time. Even as I write the words I can taste it, all sweet and fluffy. My Auntie Polyxene made the best Betty Crocker Swirl Cake. You just knew it would taste the same every time. That’s the thing about box cakes, they’re reliable.

pinch me

August 11, 2020

I started pottery shortly after my third child was born. For at least a year, I made the most minuscule things. I could only work on that scale. Tiny pinch pots fit for a doll’s house. I’d labour over each one for hours. Most of the them cracked before making it into their first firing. I didn’t care. I found the process, and the experience of handling clay, deeply gratifying. I’ve not done much yoga, and I’ve never meditated, but handling clay gives me the focus and quiet that people associate with both those things. These days, I make much larger vessels. Sometimes, I feel I can only make something large. And yet, every now and then, I return to the lowly pinch pot. Tiny and therapeutic, it feels like the right thing to do.

earth & water

August 7, 2020

Here, at Hotel Mezzatorre in southern Italy, is one of my favourite palettes; various shades of terracotta, stone and sea blue. These are the colours I grew up with, so my draw to them is innate. Of course, if I were being super particular, I’d plant a heap of pink bougainvillea in the pot.

living colour

August 6, 2020

There are certain paintings, I keep coming back to. Danish artist, Tal R‘s paintings are like that –– you can’t just look at them once. Maybe it’s the riotous colour –– Fauvist in intensity –– or his subject matter –– city life as seen through a kaleidoscopic dream –– but his paintings are utterly captivating. This one here is a personal favourite, I could hang out with it all day.

room with a view

August 5, 2020

I came across the paintings of Aussie artist, Sally Anderson today, and was instantly drawn to her seascape palette and abstract compositions. There is something inherently positive and uplifting about her work, and it’s not just the bright blues and hopeful greens. “I almost always start a work with a horizon line and go from there,” says Anderson. Her latest body of work, titled “home” was painted during lockdown and features landscapes as seen through the windows and doors of her 10-acre home in Newrybar, New South Wales. “Since lockdown, these works have taken on a new meaning,” she says. “They now also reference our collective experience of lockdown.”

lost & found

August 4, 2020

It’s kind of amazing to me, that between two massive moves, nothing got lost. There was a necklace that my Mum gave me and a bag full of fabrics that went missing for a while, but both surfaced in the second move. This morning, our landlord found my favourite white cotton pants and a single pink sock in the dryer of our rental apartment. Sometimes, the thrill of finding something is worth losing it in the first place. Sadly, this was not the case with my gold ring, the one that fell through the grates of our original house. I had hoped that our contractor, Florin might have unearthed it when the walls came down, but there was no gleaming gold in the rubble. I’ve accepted that my ring is the one treasure from the old house that didn’t make it back into the new one. So, I suppose there was some loss. I like to think a fancy squirrel is prancing around Toronto wearing it as a tiara.

factory made

August 3, 2020

I am wild about this sculpture by Anton Alvarez. He created it using a sculpture-making machine that he invented himself. “Alvarez questions the role of the artist in the creative process and allows his machine to take artistic control.” Beautifully tactile, his “alphabet aerobics,” as the series is called, sort of reminds me of a marshmallow twist. A machine for making art. What would Willy Wonka say?

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