• The potential of a recipe

    For some time now, I haven’t been into recipes that much. I mean food recipes, but maybe it’s been a metaphor for the other recipes in my life. Cooking from a recipe is like letting yourself be guided by someone else’s hands, trusting him (or her) that he will not let you fall, that he…

  • Moments of peace and having a little fun

    Maybe it is my pre-carnival mood. The diamond grid. It reminds me of Italian commedia dell’arte. Carnival Venice style. Puppets, masks, the mysterious eyes behind. Luring, seductive. I love carnival. I remember returning from the parade with a bag full of caramels. Another time we went to see the “drunken harmonies” playing across the streets…

  • Dreaming of New York

    Recently, my wonderful Brazilian friend gave me Monsieur Big mascara for my birthday. It came in a black and stiletto pink carton box, Sex and the City captured in a thick black paste for the lashes. A French brand, Émilie in New York. It was the perfect gift, the result of a running gag between…

  • Cooking for life

    I haven’t told you yet about a friend of mine, a beautiful lady, happy, light, colourful. She has lived a life full of beautiful people and beautiful stories that she generously shares with me, writing them down as the words flow into her hand, unedited. I love it. She tells me about her husband, her…

  • My next journey

    I had grown tired, so tired in fact that my back didn’t function any more. At all. I was familiar with my back problems and I knew I could stretch them as much, quite far in fact, but no further. I had run out of will power and my back knew it before I did.…

  • Morning rituals

    Rekindling an appetite for life My body started to feel thin, worn out. In a wish to learn something new, I had gone through all my reserves, and it was showing. Stress and the need to suppress my anger had made me lose my appetite, my ability to swallow and digest. I had kept my…

  • To my home and adventure

    There it was, in an upper corner stuck to the inside of the window of the bus, just above the entrance door and a collection of miniature buses positioned on the doorpost. A little emblem with the familiar three crosses on top of each other, a church by a canal and above it embroidered lettering,…