May you rarely have to kill your darlings

Chanced across this term (by means I never imagined I would). Given the circumstances of the day, it was like telepathic homily on a Sunday morning.

It refers to a practice where writers are get rid of the things they “love the most in (their) writing”. Specifically, to let go of the bits of your writing that you hold so dear to you, but don’t really serve to advance your story in any way. You wanted it to fit, you tried to make it work but alas, there just wasn’t a place in time for it.

A little bit of googling tells me that Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch originally termed it “murder your darlings”. Perhaps too graphic. But perhaps, quite appropriate. To wholeheartedly root for something but have it die by your own hand. Oh hang on, my “oh don’t be so dramatic” light has just come on.




Sometimes we tend to seek out forgotten spaces. For various reasons. To reminisce, to procrastinate, to go back to a better time. This space was a great time for Claire and I. It was a space to collect happy memories, to reflect.

We’re almost a month in to 2018 and 5 years on from the last post. Much, yet not much has changed.

The months and years that’ve gone by have had their own highlights. Those to come will have their own challenges. Lots of things change, people come and go. The constancy of this space remains appealing. It remains a good space to pen down little signposts for the years to come.

Love and support comes in different forms and I have been on the receiving end of them all this year. The nagging kind of love, the worried kind of love, the unwavering patience and support kind of love. These frustrate you, empower you and give you the strength to type your way out of the darkest places.

Focus, confidence and resilience are my words for 2018. And to invest more time, love and care into the people who’ve contributed nothing but positivity into my world thus far. To be kind in thoughts and actions to everyone. To be at ease with my change in priorities this year.

Let’s go.



A portmanteau of Breakfast and Lunch

As we gather to witness to blissful union of Breakfast and Lunch, lets take a look at their journey to this blessed union…

Food historians will have you believe that brunch

– in its earliest form, might have been a post-iliketoshootanimals luxurious meal (perhaps to eat away the guilt? Oooh, equally twisted).

– might have had a more scared beginnings. The Sunday practice of Catholics who fast before mass and sit down to a large midday meal after.

I like them food historians, but I also like this Guy. Guy Beringer. He knew the practicality of brunch– it allows you to get intoxicated on a weekend night of choice (usually Saturday), sleep in and still be able to wake up the next day to a meal that is sufficient to make up for the glorious breakfast time lost and tiptoe into the early lunchtime found. Whether there is intoxication involved or not, Brunch is fantabulous and Perth is the perfect place to enjoy brunch. We’re not short of brunch places that’s for sure.  Unfortunately my taste aren’t particularly astute when it comes to this late morning meal. They just dive head in and drown. It will soon be apparent in the illustrations below, that by the time the food arrives in front of me I have utter disregard for my brunch companion’s wishes to photograph this momentous occasion. Or my waistline for that matter.


Once in a while though, I imagine that the magic of brunch can be achieved in my own kitchen. Don’t get my wrong, its not always a failure. I present my latest – Banana, chia seed and almond meal pancakes with blueberry sauce. Like their other healthy, home made counterparts, they sure as hell came out of the pan screaming ” I look awful but I taste good ! “.


Thank you so much Greta for the lovely recipe and I know I didn’t do it justice but I’ll be sure to keep practising !

To the Mondayitis, and to all the brunches, lunches or meals in general that I miss having with Claire.



It’s been a week since  I sat in the cinema and watched this movie. I think I’m … still not ready to talk about it.

So my tear glands were in overdrive at several points in the movie. Despite firm reassurances from D, I have this nagging suspicion that I am coming across as weird with this confession. I might get more head nods if I were to say it was emotionally intense. But bawl inducing? I’m not sure. Please back me up someone.

In my defense, the amount of hopelessness is overwhelming. As is the silence of space. Both of which are fear inducing. I can feel my palms threatening to sweat as I type this.

As such, the movie is mind blowing to me. The number of movies that have such a profound effect on my emotions are few in number. I’m not sure if my movie vocabulary knows enough to think of any movie that has made use of sound or the absence of it in a soundtrack so effectively. I’d like to express my respect for Sandra Bullock but I think its getting too much. As such, I’ll leave it here with a totally irrelevant picture.

Weird stance that freaks D out/ Dotti Denim/ New Look Skater Dress/ Charles and Keith flats/ my dump all bag from drink of choice : Soy Chai Latte with Honey.

May you never have to float away in space against your will.


Rocks, Rocks, Rocks, Rocks, Rocks, Rocks.





Been seeing quite alot of Red Foo on the telly recently.

To put this poorly, I climbed up and down some rocks some time ago. No, let’s be proper. I went abseiling and rock climbing . I find it amusing that my palms are still sweaty from excitement as I type this. I surprised myself by saying “Yeah I’d be keen!” and venturing to Boya Quarry early one Saturday morning. 

Pictorial evidence is limited and you’ll just have to take my word for it. I leaned backwards and walked down a cliff a couple of times and then climbed with my bare hands up another rock face. 

Aside from being adventurous and stepping outside of the comfort zone, it was a a great way to see parts of Western Australia that I’d never get to see. 

And as I sit here, nursing an URTI while entertaining miserable thoughts, my only regret is babying myself a little too much and convincing myself that I didn’t need to climb that entire rock face. But my loving mother will disagree fiercely. 


Happy Birthday Queen !



5 Things.


Going for a long (or not so long) walk on an unexpectedly nice day.

Perth weather has been a bit of a tease. Now and then, in a midst of awful rainy, windy week, it drops the most gorgeous warm sunny day . If its on a weekend, well bonus ! Perhaps its a reminder to be more spontaneous or a reminder to take those out death pale legs for a tan.


Cartoon band aids.

As I feel like my work diary/planner no longer should have little forest animals, so do my band aids no longer have Piglet. So its nice when a dear friend comes to your rescue when you slice your finger cutting some cake (don’t ask me how) and the only one she has is a Disney Princess one. Can’t say no to that one.


Restaurants with open kitchens.

Something about an open kitchen. For some, its the comfort of knowing your food isn’t microwaved when you order ( I doubt anybody thinks that though) . For others, its appreciating that contrast of a peaceful relaxed ambience in the dining area and the high energy, bustling inner workings of a kitchen. Yay or nay to open kitchens?  By the way, this open kitchen belongs to The Precinct in Victoria park. I am in love with several things on their menu. As would you, I’m sure.


Gluten free chocolate cake.

“I taste better than I look”, say most of the baked goods that come out of my oven. And I have no explanation for that. I got this recipe from the amazing Karen Cheng . My first time working with almond meal and I was expecting a lighter fluffier chocolate cake but those whom I force fed commented that it resembled a brownie. I’ll take it and consider that a win. Win !


Participating in Book Week.

I’m usually abit of a wet blanket when it comes to any kiddy activities. Perhaps I swallowed a fly or something the week before and happily agreed to dress up as my favourite book character. Sorry Harry, you aren’t necessarily my favourite, but my wardrobe had more ‘Harry Potter’ rather than ‘Coraline’ or ‘where’s Wally’. (Trust me, it was a long and hard battle of “does my face look big in this photo?” )

Friday draws near !


Dead Space

” Your room has so much dead space”, remarked the D man one day. I looked around my room, looked at him, looked around at my room and looked at him. Man, he be right. And I get what he’s saying. There was potential for space but I hadn’t quite utilized it and after some time had passed I’d just gotten used to the lack of space. After all, they say change is as good as a holiday. And boy I need a holiday. I imagine changing and redecorating your living space has a positive relationship with endorphin production. And that can’t possibly hurt.

So a few months pass and I let life get in the way while my resentment for my room layout packed on the pounds. And then one weekend, it happened. Books were moved, the bed was rolled away, wires were bunched up. And then, there was space. Of course, you wouldn’t expect me to take a before shot, so I drew one.


So back to all that space. Ah, all that space ! But my space needed functionality, in the form of  a bedside table/vanity table. So with the mastermind of this change in tow, we trekked (drove) to Ikea in my comfiest man shirt, basic tee, tights and boots, complete with a meatball craving.






Looking through these pictures, I realized that my trip to Ikea involves a lot of:

1. looking lost

2. touching one piece of furniture while looking at another

3. standing in front of a piece of furniture and pondering for a long time.

Fruitful trip nonetheless! A three cube shelf that has become my bedside table and my vanity table, that can house my cables, put-on-my-face thingums and accessories.




One can only hope my interior designs powers improve with age. Time to start redecorating your space yet?

Have fun !