It’s been absolute ages since I snapped and posted a picture of something I’ve cooked in my kitchen. In fact, its been forever since I shared a food picture on Instagram at all. And so yesterday, when I took this picture and shared it with S & S – because the curry looked so pretty – it got me thinking.
I killed the fb page for hungry and excited about six months ago for various reasons, which I have written down in an unpublished draft. I’ve turned down the last few cake orders I got with the excuse that my life has taken over and I no longer have the time or the inclination to bake. That excuse is true because until last weekend, I hadn’t turned my oven on since the strawberry cake marathon ended.
About a month ago, the hungry and excited domain died and I got a reminder to renew it. Four weeks since, I’m still not sure if I’m going to, or if I do, what form it will take. The blog is dead, for everyone who has written in to ask why, and when it will be up – from gentle emails to pressing, desperate whatsapp questions – I really have no definite answer. I don’t know when I am going to resurrect it, and when I do, I know I want it to go back to what my blog originally used to be, so I want to be able to create a space for it.
I’m increasingly growing tired of the food feeds across all the social media platforms and at first I had mixed feelings of nostalgia and angst about by this was happening to me. Now I no longer find myself wondering. I know why this has happened to me. My interests have changed.
C’est la vie.
However I still cook. Daily mundane meals. Inspired weekend meals. And everything in between. But some days inspiration strikes in the middle of the week. Like a cloud over my head that refuses to lift until I have give in, poked it and allowed myself to be consumed in the down pour. It means I don’t wait for the weekend. I brush work aside and rush to the kitchen to cook.
In an older life, inspiration drove me to do crazy things – like beginning my morning by baking 200 cupcakes, like convincing myself that I needed fresh home baked bread every time I ate pasta, like the days I would cook and deliver fresh lunch to the hugsband every single day. People who knew me said I was crazy. And yet, all those things I did, they felt completely normal. To me. Back then.
Yes, inspiration can make you do crazy things. And today looking back, I do think I was crazy. Back then. Because I no longer recognise that girl.
But, I still cook. Mundane everyday meals, inspired weekend meals. Everything in between. Sometimes inspiration can make you do crazy things. And sometimes it can make you get up and go make lunch.