|Sighted from the Erasmus Bridge in Rotterdam, Netherlands|
The delicate ballet of blossoms falling off a tree
Had long gone unnoticed by me
I'm stunned by what now I finally see
It's amazing the wonders you can find
Just by stepping outside
There's a skip in my step a divine state of joy
In everything I do
Cause I am feeling new again
OF MONTREAL: 'Old Familiar Way'
We embarked on a month's journey to mark Mr Sticky's half century of life and I found myself on the path to further self discovery. We went to Europe: to London, Paris, Normandy, Brugge, Brussels and to visit family in Rotterdam. We ended the trip in Malaysia.
I wore out my feet but awakened the inner me. I reacquainted myself with what makes me tick. At heart I am an Artist and a Designer, I used to make fashion too. But the need to earn a living from scratch without the benefit of loans or family hand outs, and later the need to support Mr Sticky, made me forget all that.
More than twenty years ago I trained as an Artist and during this recent Grand Tour, found that I was newly inspired beyond compare to draw and write and build a visual diary of ideas. My youthful ideas floated up and broke the surface of my now commercially oriented mind. It left me full of idealistic wonder and an enormous amount of pent up creative energy.
Now on our return to Chez Sticky I try to link the new me, carving a more sustainable ethos with a desire to create again. How will I fit this into my life now back in Australia? I wonder? While cooking was once my creative outlet, I'm afraid that now it will not suffice. My job has a Creative title but it is the last thing that I am currently encouraged to be.
Binding so much of what we experienced while we were away was the artistry of food. From a Chef cooking in the dining room of his small restaurant in Rotterdam - serving a fixed course set menu of food sourced from a local farm, to rustic seasonal French produce steeped in a heritage of tradition, to a suburban London pub serving honest grub, a High Tea at London's oldest running hotel, to an old brewery cafe in Brussels and a tiny Salon de The serving traditional buckwheat galettes, we dined well. And of course there was the ultimate celebration at The Fat Duck.
Naturally I will post my thoughts on The Fat Duck, but it will take a few varied posts to discuss it. For that in itself was a journey, not just one of sustenance, it made the grey cells jiggle too. It was an exploration of the mind of a creative genius, Heston Blumenthal who appears to have also found himself riding that fine line between passion, art and commerce.