A handful of buttons

The objects that made my day yesterday...


A shell necklace I made two years ago wrapped around an old coca cola bottle. Because to everyone else these objects would be considered garbage.


The beautiful bracelets by Dinosaur Design a friend forgot at mine.


A pair of Loeffler Randall snake skin shoes I had forgotten I even owned. Because rediscovery is better then something new. It doesn't cost a penny.


Two Nurofen, as I woke up with a headache, which was soon forgotten as I marveled at the tiny print on the little pills.


The rain. Because I didn't feel like sunshine.

x

Tinsel in the chimney

Our christmas morning breakfast guests. Two kissing lorikeets.

The Australian version of Christmas I have yet to fully come to terms with. Myself being a child of transplanted heritage, origins questioned in all countries I hold passports for, I find myself resorting to television for a grounding center during times of crisis. And what crisis am i going through at the moment you may wonder? The holidays of course! I'm sure you are all having a similar pandemic of the Christmas-crazies in the various far off lands I'm imagining you dear readers (if there are indeed any ;o) herald from.

But my point seems to be momentarily diverted, allow me to resume!

What I am referring to is the Australian Christmas lunch that seems to involve a great excess of liquor, yelling at the neighbors & family while wishing complete strangers a merry christmas, and generally collecting a nice little hangover somehow necessary for the crowded boxing day sales to come. So what is it about this that I don't seem to understand (a fairly normal occurrence in your household maybe?)? Well its the fact that having never experienced a tinseled & bobbled tree myself (jewish father, converted christian mother, Agnostic by choice) I find these christmassy occurrences impossible to coincide with images of smiling (although comically corrupt) families exchanging gifts & becoming even more witty as eggnog flows on TV. Or maybe I've simply (finally) been brainwashed by my mother who really truly believes all Australians drink too much. (My "reality meter" has been on the fritz for some time needless to say). So by the end of the holiday season my mind is left miffed & muffed & generally quite muddled, wondering what all the fuss & bad decorations was about to begin with!

Ah, but relax. It is over, the gentle lull of daily rhythms return without that "here comes Santa Claus" bullshit reverberating in my skull. Deep breath.

But since I'm a hypocrite in the best sense of the word, I'll mention now I spent this internationally celebrated birthday of the western worlds savior sipping bubbly with a dear friend of mine enjoying a splendid lunch! Magnifique!!!


bis bis x

Treasure Chest of Food

I've always found Japanese culture most fascinating, & was inspired today to create an ode to the Japanese way of life with a traditional bento box lunch.

Left hand comparment: sushi-nori wrapped around smoked salmon & rice with avocado, egg wrapped around Japanese spinach with kecap manis (sweet soy sauce),

Far back right compartment: onigiri (rice ball) filled with pickled apricot & sprinkled with green onion & sesame & grape tomatoes.

Middle right compartment: sushi-cooked tuna, avocado, carrot cucumber, & rice wrapped in nori, with a side of sliced cucumber & wasabi.

Front right compartment: sliced & fried bok-choy & asparagus in sesame oil & soy sauce, & cooked pumpkin with a honey sesame dressing

I also made one for my brother, his consists of much of the same plus a hard boiled egg, pickled onions & salad.


The colours just seemed so cheerful, they made my day, & I had such fun making them!

ex oh

The cost of me

I'm going on a trip to Thailand in late January. My father payed for the insurance.
In summary:
Amendment or Cancellation Costs: $Unlimited
Additional Expenses: $Unlimited
Personal Liability: $2,500,000
Accidental Death: $25,000

Whatever happened to being "priceless?"

I also feel I must somehow acknowledge his kind gesture of buying the insurance by injuring myself & making good use of it. hmmm

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Today I actually took time to look at a monument I have walked by nearly every day to & from the bus stop. It is a war memorial acknowledging soldiers of wars gone by. The location of the war is listed above, and the date below.
There is one set of brass letters that are shinier than the rest. They read: "Iraq. 2005"

The only problem with this memorial is the wars are unevenly spaced in relation to one another, and there is a large quantity of unused space.
These spaces are saved to acknowledge the deaths of those in the wars yet to come.

I suppose they are just being practical.

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I finally found a grocery store that carries Coca-cola in the old glass bottles (been looking for quite literally years). The entire time I was drinking it I just kept thinking "so this is how traveling back in time would feel!"

I've saved the bottle. Washed it. Then buried it in the back yard. This is so it may 'age.'

I want it to appear authentic when I put wild flowers in it.

I have a soul

I have a soul.
It is being squeezed and tormented by the stacks of text books and work crowding my desk. It's begs to go pack a picnic and spend the day doused in sun.
I have a mind.
And it is laughing at the challenges set before me, and crying out for harder problems, "bring on the statistical inference" it yells.
Hence, I am confused. My mind & my soul will not reconcile, and I am living in binaries. It is exhausting.

Does work only become work when you 'have to' do it? I love my Sunday paper cross words, and other accompanying little puzzle problems. But when I get one of these wrong no one blinks an eye, I shrug and do it all again next Sunday. So maybe its the grade that makes 'work' "work." Those big angry red numbers that accompany exams, scrawled on the front annoying you like an insolent child throwing a tantrum in the middle of a supermarket.

I told my mother the other day that I cannot stand 'warm' colours during exam period. All my highlighters and post-its are greens and blues, occasionally yellow. I always mark my own work with an X or tick in green pen, I'm not sure I even own a red pen anymore. We now both think I have developed a life long phobia to red and associated colours. Just like Pavlov's dogs, I've been conditioned to fear red. Maybe teachers should start marking papers in a calmer colour? Maybe turquoise, its probably the most inoffensive & un-inflammatory colour I can think of right now. .....Or would students then come to fear turquoise?
I think I will seriously consider hiring colour consulting therapist.