Black spots appeared, first on one leaf, then another. It doesn’t like it here and wants a second opinion. I consult and am advised that the bathroom is too humid for a monstera plant. It doesn’t matter that its the right size.
Its taken years to finally acquire one and now I’m about to kill it.
I’ve also acquired 12 false starts, although one is so close to done it just needs some photos. Drafts. Boring drafts. Something must change.
What about arranging selected images from magazines? I got out of the habit of buying magazines. Mistake. This is the way to make a vision board. Physically. Walk around them. Look at them closely. Give them some distance.
Let the images guide the words.
I tried haloumi cheese for the first time a few months back. Now I happily order these dishes from the menu, but then had to leave the blob of avocado to trudge it’s way back to the kitchen, rejected. The menu didn’t say there’d be avocado.
I didn’t want to write about me. This screen triggers that habit. I wanted to break the habit and write a story about the magazine pictures, like I used to, before blogging.
She tried haloumi cheese. She was surprised because it didn’t taste like cheese, but to remember clearly how it tasted …. to remember things well, these things must be savoured, exquisitely.
Sitting at a grandmother’s dressing table, during the 60s, looking back into the 40s and marveling at the way time collapses in on itself, all points at once becoming all possibilities.
She remembered liking this new type of cheese but not enough to describe it. She can’t even remember which restaurant.
Her monstera leaves, so glossy against the white background, pronounce themselves larger than they are and demand attention. There is no time. Just shape and colour. Younger leaves hint at a future, but without evidence of a past there are no possibilities to embrace.
The pale pastels of faded buds, the scent of lavender and rose, and a silver hair brush too large and heavy for small hands. It’s time to buy flowers again.