When I was little I used to tell everyone that I had a crush on Robin Williams. It’s a silly pronouncement for a few reasons, (do 7 year olds need celebrity crushes? Are the crushes in question meant to have that much arm hair? Hm.) - but now that he’s gone, something really really colossal feels like it’s collapsed. I guess I’ve tried to think about why this affects me, why it matters so much… I think partly it’s because I attribute so much of the way my strange brain thinks and creates to many of the stories he was a part of. I will argue the genius and credibility of Hook until I run out of breath. The name is immortal, the man isn’t. Blah. I don’t like “feeling” things very much. Bangarang Peter.
Another recipe I’ve done for “They Draw and Cook!” :)