February 2012
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these things are schoolwork
In our professional writing course we had to either write a limerick, an aphorism, or a 6-word-story made famous by Ernest Hemingway. What follows is something that I wrote as an example of the latter:
Embracing Italy! Spaghettified. Hanker for chopsticks.
January 2012
2 posts
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“When we eat, we eat with our ideas.”
– A. Grieco
these things are foodosophy.
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December 2011
5 posts
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November 2011
20 posts
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these things are forms of flight
I’d like to introduce Varda. She’s not really a tom boy like I imagined but I think we get along swell ‘cause we both have a thing for acessorising. Me, I like hair scarves, earrings, necklaces, belts and scarves. She like baskets, bells and flashing lights. We both attempt to be practical, she carries a pump at all times, and I dangle my swiss army knife on my key chain because...
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“If you are a good cook you prepare the broth at home. If you are a bad cook you...”
– these things are learned
or at least my molecular biology lecturer stated this with a voice full of conviction.
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these things are home (at least for now) →
This is one of my gorgeous housemates blogs.
I think she did a splendiferous job of capturing the layout of our apartment. Check it!
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these things are poetry
Silk and Snow
Its snowing outside
and my sarong
from silky south-east
presses against my
winter skin
looking like the yellowed walls
of our raucher-WG.
The kettle snores
like a drunkard and
the steam whilts the silk,
melting it
to my thighs and hips.
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these things are chalky →
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these things are philosophical
An American describes food as being flavourful.
An Australian uses the word flavoursome.
Full vs some.
Glass full vs glass empty.
I don't want to camp out in the negative half.
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these things are truff-erific
In gumboots, hiking boots, runners, and even Uggs, we squelched through clay-clumpy terrain, scurried up hills and slipped on wet leaves. All in the name of truffles. With two truffle-hunters as our noses - they are dogs in Italy rather than the piggies used in France- we too became honorary truff-divers. A special thanks goes out to Zorro, the little blonde dog that could, who despite being...
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these things are sleep depriving
There’s a heard of constipated cow pigeons mooing on my balcony and its 7am!
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these things are straight from a bottle
O SAFT
Thanks to my teenage love,
gulping orange juice
straight from the bottle
makes me feel like a boy.
I’m tugging two euros
from my tight jeans pocket
for the Kaiser counter cutie
and I’m flicking off the lid
before I’m even out the door
bottle angled at my tonsils
juice is sloshing down my chin
and I take it like a man.
Wipe it off
with the back of my hand
rub it on my shirt.
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these things are phoenix-like
It seems that I am just a face, that on my shoulders is an empty cavity that reverberates with the knock of a fist… I used to think I was a no-face (the empty cavity held some grey matter) but in an attempt to delete my mother-blog the original ‘these things are’ blog went up in flames. Good one. Then again, I am all for new beginnings and I have just plunged into what promises...