#5 Fire & rain

Hi there, again. This was first written with pen and paper, sitting under a parasol by the pool in the midst of a downpour. The rain is hitting every surface with such force all other sounds are drowned out. I protected my gadgets with resealable bags, wearing rubber flip flops, bringing enough water and snacks good for hours just in case. I was well prepared for the rain except insisted on bringing my fountain pen.

And this is what happens.

What can no longer be read is perhaps better washed away.


I've been dying to tell you about this book I regret not picking up earlier (because of the cover. And yes I judged the book by what else?). Nothing to See Here by Kevin Wilson is laugh out loud funny, and actually tugged my heart strings, stayed just slightly clear of schmaltzy.

I felt really connected to the character. No it's not the protagonist everyone talks about being able to relate to. It's the 10 year old twins! I I've felt like them from the beginning of time. Until recent few years, I've felt like fire runs through me. In the eyes of people I was dealing with, I could see myself becoming a ball of fire. As I read the book, the bystander's reaction to the fire kids was so familiar to what I've observed. I'm much better now. I still burst into flames, sometimes, but like these kids, I feel like I can control it with someone who can contain me and all the fiery emotions that I come with. And I have beakies. They are my fire, I let them be, and I hold them and tell them they are good as they are.

New borns

This week, I've completed ostrich, hare and tortoise. 

No, I wasn't thinking about aesop fable plus a big bird. 

I wanted to make a hare because I relate to hare so much better than rabbits which are everywhere I turn to during this season. I have heightened sensitivity to sounds in general, what others deem acceptable, usually makes me wanna pull my hair out. Imagine what the hare with these long and wide and standing ears must feel. And that's how Jo the hare came about.

The desire to create a tortoise came when I was reading Midnight Electric last year. I was captivated by the idea of a hundred year old tortoise connecting generations otherwise unknown to another.

Imagine how much the tortoise must have seen, how much there is to remember, and to forget. Thus, Gabe the tortoise

I named her today. She is Astrid the ostrich. I’m still writing her story, it will be out in ig this week, and I’ll link her in the next letter.

Will you be listing them?

Yes, but not yet. They are buried deeply in my mind the labyrinth. It takes time to navigate them out of this skull of mine. Seriously though, I'm working things out, you will know when I know when. Updates will appear here in subsequent letters.

As covid seems to be very well travelled these days I'm sure you've somewhat felt it's impact. Here in Singapore where it arrived early, for more than a month now, I've been going out as little as possible, every time buying food enough for a week and a little more. 


At the end of the week I'm left with only 4 fresh food items—1 potato, 1 sweet potato, french beans and chinese spinach. As with my textile work, I'm big on resourcefulness in cooking. Unlike long hours spent stitching, I prefer easy bold nutritious cooking.

The standout meal this week was a veg korma with a twist. The normal korma (like this) is time consuming with many parts to assemble (and doesn't even contain leafy greens, enough protein or carbs). I cooked the standard, and added cooked chickpeas (which I cook by the kilo and keep frozen) and it's cooking water, served along rice cooked with spinach. Yum. It's milder than the usual korma, but more complex in flavours.

My lazy food description may not do the flavour bursting creaminess justice, but writing anymore may distract me from textile and kindle perhaps an unknown desire for a career in food writing. 

It's late, I have a tower of dishes to wash, bread and soymilk to prepare. Gotta go guys, till next week, Marn.