Being earnest

You know what I’m talking about. We all do it. Sometimes we take ourselves a bit too seriously. We ponder, we dissect our thoughts, we consider an idea and its relevance to the existence of another, weightier idea or concept. We analyse, we cross reference, and debate. We step back, we measure, check and check again. Is it? Could it? Will it? We sit up bolt upright in the middle of the night, reach for our notepads and document. We engage in discussion over coffee, we wear black, we listen to music of tumultuous shades, we feel moved, inspired and nod in agreement, ‘Yes, yes, I know what you mean.’ And we mean it. Really, really mean it.

And then there are times when we jump over gates instead of opening them. When we lie on grass that’s slightly damp from yesterday’s rain and tease each other with silly jokes and laugh like school kids. Where the only thing to think about is whether to get fish and chips or sushi. To go for a walk or stay sitting under the tree. To kiss or to hold hands. Or both.

Education is important. Believing in your ideas is important. But whittling ideas down to the point that you are too paralysed to do anything because you’ve explored every possible angle is not good. That’s when being earnest can work against you and may feed doubt.

So take the pressure off yourself. Paint every finger nail a different colour. Put down that book of poems and read a trashy mag. Don’t worry, being earnest will be there when you want it but every once in a while it’s good to relax and give our earnest gland a rest.

Another cake...

Another cake. To celebrate, well, nothing in particular except that today was a good day. Black forest cake is my supreme celebration cake. It's the cake I would choose if I could only eat one type of cake for the rest of my life. What about you?

Eat cake

This is a cake I would like to eat. Any day of the week. It's a drawing of the genoise sponge photo which graces the front cover of the Australian Women's Weekly 'Mix' cookbook. I was going to bake it, but thought I'd draw it instead. Now I'm hungry and no amount of licking the drawing is going to satisfy my cake urge. I've got some baking to do...

Red ink

One Halloween when I was a kid, my friend and I thought it would be a good idea to write a scary letter to our neighbours who lived across the road. Somewhere we’d heard that if you ever wrote a letter to someone in red ink, it meant that you wanted them to die. This is horrible, I know. We broke open a bic pen and smeared its red ink all over a lined piece of A4 paper with the holes punched down the side. The letter went something like this:

Dear Neighbours,

At the stroke of midnight, zombies will come and eat your brains. Whoooo! Whooooo! Whoooooooooo!

From, the zombies

I was about seven years old and I still sometimes wonder what those poor people thought when they opened their letterbox that day. I hope they weren’t scared. I hope they realized it was a couple of goofy kids who were yet to grow a conscience and understand the greater consequence of their actions. But if you’re out there, I’d like to reassure you that zombies are never going to eat your brains. Sorry for freaking you out.