I made cupcakes Tuesday night for my mother’s birthday, which was yesterday. I can’t find the recipe online, so to make your own batch of incredibly delicious vanilla cupcakes with coconut cream cheese frosting you’ll have to buy the June issue of Martha Stewart. I bought a copy for mum as part of her present and happened to, um, skim through it before giving it to her (the recipe page might be an teensy-weensy bit rumpled now).
As I was making the cupcakes, I noticed that the batter and frosting were the most beautiful shades of white on white.
One thing I really like about having a new camera is that I’m trying harder to see now. When you’re limited to the small viewspace inside your lens, you look harder at how things relate to each other. You think more about things like color, composition, and value – things that I forget about most of the time. I remember walking around Providence, RI, the day after discussing value (how light/dark something is) in one of my illustration classes and seeing the trees and houses and cars like I had been blind for years. Sometimes knowledge + understanding can give you new eyes.
I guess this doesn’t really have anything to do with cupcakes anymore. I really enjoy that fact that making one thing acts as a trigger for all manner of ideas for unrelated things. From cupcake batter to white compositions to Mark Rothko paintings to home decor to that piece of furniture I didn’t buy at the Goodwill to the pillowcases I did to the idea I had for a new purse made from them to I should probably paint instead to I don’t paint enough anymore to what should I paint next…You get the idea. All while standing at the kitchen counter mixing flour and eggs and sugar.
Back to mother’s birthday, it would have been an entirely lovely event except that brother-in-Japan was missing. I coaxed some beautiful but rarely used china teacups and depression glass plates out of her cabinets and set them on a, old printed tablecloth. And I had the first red roses of the season, cut from the bushes in the yard.
I hope she felt loved, because she is very much. Happy birthday again, mum!