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Icing Smear |
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But, I knew I still needed my own emotional outlet. Making art with my mother was touching and cooking with my grandmother was fun, but I knew somehow it wasn't the same for me as it was for them. I wanted to be possessed by a passion. I longed for that feeling to do something I truly loved and could pour myself into wholeheartedly. During one of my many lonely, sleepless nights I decided to watch TV. Although I'd seen a few cooking shows in college that sparked my interest, tonight was cakes: amazing and elaborate cakes. Cooking was all right, art was fun, but together they made an explosive combination that set me on fire. I started asking my mother for cooking supplies. I spent hours making roses and flowers out of icing and never got bored. And thanks to the sudden rock star popularity of all the cake shows, I could find colorful information at every turn. |
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Every crummy paycheck at the end of the week and all my spare time was spent on my new hobby. After a couple months, my family and friends were tired of trying to eat all my creations. Since slowing down my production wasn’t an option, I was forced to start bringing my overflow of sweets to work. It quickly became a ritual for me to come in twice a week with Tupperware containers and platters of goodies. Sometimes I came in with several cakes that I handed out to people during the day. I looked forward to those couple of days all week because of how excited people were. |
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As soon as I would hit the door at 6:30 in the morning people would start clustering and following behind me like a crowd of fans. Some were interested because of the taste and others would complement me on how creative it all looked. Cooking sweets for people was making me stronger. When I had to move in with my parents my pride was bruised. But, this made me feel important and I was feeding off people's excitement and happiness. By midday my ego was bloated and all my platters were empty. I was my own little food rock star and it felt good. So good that the more this went on, the longer my cupcake-less days became. In a year's time I was bringing food almost everyday just to be able to make it through my shift. I was so unhappy without sugar and icing, yet it seemed impossible to get from where I was to where I wanted to be. |
