It isn’t until the mini loaf pan with lemon raspberry batter in the individual slots and the oven closes that I feel my intense focus shift to one of hope.
I pause to savour this moment. The moment where my creativity has been challenged and now it is up to a bit of heat to finish the process. The moment where my energy shifts to anticipation.
It is also the moment where the true depth of my creative chaos becomes evident. When the stack of measuring cups, shells of lemon rinds and egg dribble breaks through my muse and into my consciousness.
“Wow, what a beautiful mess.” I think to myself.
My kitchen, to me, is like a painter’s studio. It’s where I thrive, creative, exhaust myself and recharge. It’s the room I crave after an intense day at work. When deadlines loom or my mind is numb from the amount of output during my work day, I come home and throw myself into making a noodle bowl or black bean taquitos with homemade queso.
My measuring spoons are my paint brushes. My mixer a canvas.
Standing in my kitchen, with a mix of hope and anticipation, I feel the calm after the storm. I look forward to the clean-up as the last phase of the process and to take my mind off the waiting for the timer to signal my creation is done.
There is a calming to the chaos.
And I can’t wait for the next storm.