I wish sometimes that I were a more creative person. I have flirted with visual arts, but my odd sketch is nothing to write home about... unless I'm drawing geometric shapes, I'm pretty lost. I've written music, but even I don't think it's that great. I've had more success with the written word, but they say that you should write what you know... so it tends to be intensely personal and cryptic... so when I reread what I've written, it reminds me of my past, for better or worse, and I think that for an outsider to read my words (funny that autocorrect suggested woes instead of words) without the insight of what precipitated them would mean missing the punchline.
So I cook. I'm glad to live in a country, and a time that a wide variety of ingredients and cultures collide for new food experiences. I can share my food unabashedly with anyone, though I prefer those close to me, who understand when I brush off any positive comments.
Cooking also gives me an escape - since I quit smoking, I like the cast-iron excuse to extricate myself from any social encounter that threatens to become overwhelming. I can hide at the stove, and busy myself with flavour. And I can create something that people will like.
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