• Kat Johnston sketch - it's rather amazing what a few lines can turn into... connect them up, colour them in, and what do you get? A face!
  • Another day, another lunch. I think I’m in the mood for some cruskits, topped with some tuscan salami and some fresh, juicy tomato, sprinkled over with a touch of salt to draw out the sweetness of it… then perhaps a slither or two of delicious, firm Australian feta, or a few salty green olives stuffed with pimento.

    I love food. I love even more the describing of food, as if the tasting of it were but one part of the entire experience. The way the mouth can water with anticipation, with deep and abject desire to take a bite out of even the most common delicacy… mmmmm. Even the most basic food can become to seem as one fit for the gods.

    The way teeth slice through the flesh of a fruit, experiencing that first burst of flavour as the juice splatters onto the tongue, rending chunks with such childish glee as eyes slip closed in sweet reverie… that just begins to describe an apple. Apples are one of those things I cycle back and forth with – taking some time away from to approach again, only to learn over and over the simple delight of consuming either red or green varieties.

    But I will not fall into a death-like slumber, no: I have no evil step-mother to name of, nor anyone I am aware of who would do me such justice as to kill me with a fairy-tale fate. Would my sweet prince come to free me from the prison of my body? Would my husband’s lips free the chunk of apple, so that I may breathe again unhindered?