Tuesday, February 19, 2013

Intimidation of white paper.

Today I was struck by intimidation twice. And smart folks say that lightning doesn't strike twice. Yeah, right. First it was in the morning when I took out white empty sheet of paper and decided to draw, the other time when opened a document to write about cupcakes. Though the first attack was solved by filling the space with huge baobab and after that with two more. With the second hit I didn't have this easiness. I can't write BAOBAB and expect that it will hold the pressure of empty white space on the screen, or can I? Most likely it is more of 'if pigs could fly' case. Cursor doesn't like my lack of words and is not a big fan of BAOBAB too. It is flashing like yellow street light at night forcing me to choose 'should I stop' or 'should I go'. 

Friday, February 8, 2013

Good mistakes.

How can you tell which mistake is good which is bad? How can you tell which cupcake is delicious which isn't? By tasting it. Bitter or bland taste in your mouth and you quite sure neither mistake or cupcake is good. Though with mistakes things always get a little bit tricky. As things with cupcakes.
When I agreed to try to bake them my imagination got very busy by painting a masterpiece of getting gorgeous little cakes with delicious twirled butter cream hats on top and some little yet very elegant decorations. The only thing missing in that visions was the branch and birds singing. That's the problem with masterpieces in your head they usually are hoax. A smoke curtain for the part of your brain which tries to think realistically while the imaginary one tries to sell a fake dream. By now you probably have an idea what's going on. Things didn't went like I imagined. I was like a collector with a copy of masterpiece. 

Wednesday, February 6, 2013

Cupcake Odyssey.

What's cookin'? Cupcakes. About half year ago. It was Thursday. In the background TV was playing live from the London Olympics. I was alone in the kitchen, contemplating in the pose of Thinker. The rush and heat of the day was subsiding and I was feeling some sort of withdrawal and intoxicating indolence, in big need of a little more kick before the night came in. Evenings are always perfect to bake and tease my neighbors or crows on the roof with the sweet smell of baked pastry leaking from every possible gap in my apartment straight into their noses or beaks. And bake big. Big like binge baking. If 18 cupcakes count as binge baking. 

Performancing Metrics