I never liked coffee (except the aroma) but I started having a cup in the evenings to keep me awake till late at night. I began with dollops of sugar, cocoa powder and some chocolate, but now I just enjoy it plain. My dad even taught me how to make a cappuccino! ^
I just need to bake... I've been thinking about it all week and I'm having one of those burning desires to create something beautiful. I don't want to bake cupcakes, or muffins... same old, sugary, regular. I want to make something stunning. Something modest, yet different from what I've made before.
This year I cannot escape the fact that I have heaps and heaps of work. From fairs to performances, presentations to tests, reports to assignments to everything, I just feel swamped by my school life. I wake up and work, I do a bit of yoga and go to school and work, I come home and eat and work, I do a few minutes of pilates and allow some time for showering, dinner and masterchef ;), I sit in my room and work till late at night, and I wake up again and work, continuing into the 'weekend'. I do have some free time, it just doesn't always feel like it. Today I'm taking advantage of it being a Friday, despite having loads of things to do for Monday and I'm enjoying the Popcorn Day, surfing the internet and blogging... trying not to think about the next 2, 5, 7, 210 days to come.
Something that upsets me to no end is the lack of appreciation that Art Students get. Most people in my class put down art as a subject, thinking it's just colouring or painting a picture- no work or skills or time required. I told my friend the other day that I had so much work to do, and when the main component was art, she just said "Oh... that's ok" in a manner that meant 'Oh, art-- that's easy-- it doesn't even count compared to real work.' I dare anyone who undermines art to spend a day with one of the art students: working for hours on end, pouring over 2 square inches of a piece until it's perfect, writing, researching, falling asleep, finally finishing a piece and then having to start all over again on the next piece. If they still don't appreciate it, I dare them to take Art Coursework and get an A*, like my fellow art students and I are striving to achieve.
Sometimes I just feel like screaming. I want to get away from it all. Away from my planner that fills up each day with all the things I have to do. Away from my alarm clock that wakes me up so early after a short night. Away from my art that I love so much that I won't let it go until it's perfect. Away from the carefreeness of some people. Away from the chaos of the world and the pressure of every day.
Cooking is art. I'm still a perfectionist with it, but I can do it whenever I want, however much I want (well, as much as time allows me) and I have no rules, no expectations, no due date, no test on it later. Just the gratification of a masterpiece and the pleasure of eating it with people I love.
Cooking feels so therapeutic to me. It draws me in, like an oasis. Rid of all the problems of the world, I can just work with different materials and build things of every size, shape, colour, texture, sound, aroma and flavour. Cooking is the most personal of arts and the things it creates are multi-dimensional-- provoking each and every sense.
But I can't say my life is bad. Although it probably hasn't sounded this way, I just love it. I laugh long and hard with the two other art students in my class and our lovely teacher. We share our ideas and passions and creativity. I've been so lucky with the girls in my class-- you won't see a more tightly-knit grade, especially when teenage girls tend to be the most clique-y and superficial. I'm addicted to the feeling you get when you exchange a smile or a quick conversation with one of the many people you've gotten to know throughout the school this year. Despite the misery they put me through, I'm so thankful for my teachers. This mad, mad city is growing on me each day as I discover its beauty, its people, its culture of art, food, music, theatre, sports, history and its depth. And I don't know how I would survive without my family. Through all the ups and downs, they're there. No matter what mood I'm in, or what mood they're in-- good or bad-- I know they'll be by my side. They drive me around, stay up helping me study for a test or helping with my art, they make me delicious food and take me out shopping, to the movies, to restaurants and cafes, to concerts. They hug me when I cry because I just can't take it anymore... and they tell me those 3 words-- that are so empty, yet when coming from the right people seem so believable: