At some point in my childhood I picked up a crayon like every other child, the only difference being that I couldn’t put it down after that. My love for art later translated into a love for baking because I see cakes as edible art.
Both of these started as random flashes of inspiration, either from a book, a movie or an incident in my life, and gradually turned into a form of self expression. But it didn’t start out great. I burned numerous batches of brownies, as well as my mother’s favorite tablecloth, and once I dyed my cupcakes a sickly shade of green so that no one could bear to eat them. My hands were stained with paint multiple times and we once extracted dried glue from my hair.
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