Wednesday, September 24, 2014

Switzerland Sky

It is a generally accepted idea that everybody has a favourite colour. Therefore it must logically follow that everybody has seen that colour before, at some point.

I hadn't, until this morning.

When I was nine years old, my mum bought a house. We moved in over the summer and started doing simple renovations. First, we replaced the sad-looking brown carpets with clean white tiles. Next, we wanted to paint the walls. To start fresh.

"What colour are you thinking of, dear?"
"It's hard to explain, mum."
"What do you mean?"
"I don't want just one colour. I want a colour made up of many colours."
"Well it's a bit difficult to do that. Can't you just choose from what we have here in the booklet?"
"But it's not here."

Anthony had already picked the paint he wanted: a dark, serious blue. But I remember spending hours poring over pamphlets from the hardware store containing rainbows of swatches, ripples of tiny coloured squares that went from jet black to emerald green to butter yellow to pure white. I would run my finger over the purpley-bluey-pinkey section if there was one, but could never find exactly what I had in mind. I settled for a light shade of lavender in the end.

I am now twenty-two years old. I painted my room thirteen years ago. And this morning, as the plane was flying away from Paris over Switzerland, I turned away from my movie so I could look out the window.

There, in front of me, was the colour I had wanted.

Laid out over the earth was the exact hue of purple I'd imagined: fresh, light and so alive that you could almost hear it breathing. It melted into a soft, baby blue, the colours dissolving so perfectly that your eyes would get lost in them. Then, the best part: a layer of rose petal pink that sighed along the curve of the earth, touching both ends of the sky with its fingertips. I sat with my forrid against the freezing glass, mesmerized, drinking it, filling my eyes with it.

Too often, we let others convince us that what we see in our mind can never exist.

Thursday, September 4, 2014

"What do you desire?"

I have been so busy over the past 12 months, travelling non-stop, not to mention the small issue of trying to survive the final gruelling years of my law degree in Australia. I haven't had time to devote to my blog, which makes me sad, but I know the time will come around again when I'll be able to pour more of my time and energy into my passion for food. Until then, I have to focus on my priorities.

That being said, I will post something up on here once in a blue moon when I feel it is particularly awesome or important. This is one of those times.

The comic below is based on a well-known YouTube video of Alan Watts delivering a speech. I watched this video a few years ago in my early years of university, and found it so moving that you could say that it changed my life.

It was a combination of that video, many mistakes, a lot of traveling and some amazing people I met along the way that made me realise that I don't want to be a lawyer. Not in the immediate future anyway. I've enjoyed learning to master words by studying law, learning how to argue, learning how to think critically. But my real passion is food.

I don't light up when I'm talking about Constitutional Law the way I do when I'm talking about a pastrami sandwich in New York. I don't burn with yearning when I flit through a law firm pamphlet, but I do when I flit through a Michelin Star restaurant's menu online. I don't see myself sitting at a desk for 10 hours a day, Monday to Friday, 48 weeks a year for the rest of my twenties. But I do have a dream of opening a café that serves the best brunch in town.

No, I won't make enough money to pay for a big house or a nice car. No, I don't know exactly how I'm going to achieve it. And no, I don't know if it will be successful or not. I'm 22 years old. I don't know much about anything really.

But I know what I love.

And as long as I know that, I think I'm going to be okay.









Disclaimer: Image is not mine, it was taken from here