Saturday, May 21, 2011

Spotty galore!

Since my early twenties, I've felt that something epic will happen when I'm 32. 11 months into this mystical age, I wondered whether that was just a number I pulled out of thin air. On Sunday night, it became apparent that this is the age when I finally get the dreaded chicken pox. I've been vaccinated for goodness sake! 

I had (well, still have) nearly 90 spots, about half of those were ugly and itchy. I'm still putting up with acne and now this? The body refuses to grow up, probably because the mind hasn't :) But really, this is taking the young-at-heart thing too far.

My sleep was interrupted by crazy dreams, I lost my appetite and I desperately wanted to destroy every mirror in the house.

On Tuesday night, I gave in. Mum had given me a list of herbal things to drink and my sister offered to track them down the next day. The care package that arrived at my door had herbs and so much more... vegetables, tea, honey, jelly and popsicles! *beam* 

I got the stove fired up faster than you can say 'Masterchef' and I had pots of potions brewing away while I munched on bitter melon. 
Here's a look at the weird and wonderful:

Scary caterpillars ;)

Chrysanthemum flower
Delicate chrysanthemum

Rock sugar
Rock sugar to help wash it all down

That evening, the fever and headaches were all but gone and only a couple of stubborn spots were itching. Yay to no more waking up at 3am to pop antihistamines! Double yay to having chinese physicians in the family :)


When I was little, mum always made a 'special' spinach porridge (congee) when I had a long illness. It was gross green and yucky mushy but I loved it because it was what Popeye ate to make himself strong again. Today, I was hoping to replicate it and failed, no surprise really. Didn't look anything like it. Didn't taste anything like it. Bleah.

Spinach jungle
Popeye food

The cat has been especially attentive throughout my ordeal...nawwww

attentive miles

I'm getting to the scabbing stage now. I scar easily and badly so I'm prepared for the worst. There's already a hole next to my nose. Having googled "how to fix pox scar", it appears there's nothing one can do about a hole in the face. Ah well, I try to tell myself that it's only skin. 
Life must go on, craters and all.

Tuesday, May 17, 2011

The Butterfly Effect

I've always enjoyed looking at interiors and architecture. I have a stash of newspaper and magazine cut-outs of rooms, furniture and decorating stuff, from when I was in my teens. These days, if I chance across pictures that catch my eye and are envy-inducing, I just take a photo of it. This happens mostly at cafes and it often draws sideways glances. Well I get to pretend that I'm a design student, thirsty for inspiration.

I don't know why I do it. I put the photos in a folder labelled Pretty Interiors, and I don't see them again. I suppose if I happen to wake up one day and find a bajillion dollars in my bank account, I'd hire a couple of super talented people to help me create a gorgeous little home. I'd hand them this folder, bursting with styles and colours I love. Yeah it'd be the most eclectic and contradictory mood board ever.

Well I did look through the folder the other day. I was working on The Butterfly Effect, my latest series on Etsy when I remembered this wall of butterflies. I found my photo of it (wasn't very well taken, I admit) and realised that I happen to have the magazine - Inside Out's 10th birthday issue, May/June 2010 - so here's a better shot of it. 

This is in David Bromley's Melbourne home and he painted the butterfly feature wall. I would've never considered a wall of massive butterflies, but this bathroom, along with the chandelier, Eiffel Tower (to scale!) and bath tub changed that. It's true, a butterfly goes where it pleases and it pleases where it goes.

Butterflies fascinate me. As a child, I used to catch little blue grey ones and inspect them with innocent curiosity. Now I'll probably freak out if one lands on me unexpectedly. I'm drawn to the whole transformer thing. Does a caterpillar know what its about to become as its building its cocoon? Does it struggle during metamorphosis? Does it know what colours it'll get? 

I guess it doesn't really matter. I bet it feels incredible to emerge from your cocoon, a new and improved version of yourself.