a big breath in

i’ve always been the kind of person that feels things thinly. i take everything in little bits at a time, slowly, because i like to be sure of what something is before i let that something in. it’s just the way i work – i like to keep what i know close, so that the unfamiliar can keep hovering over the horizon line. so, most days, barely anything scrapes my surface – with everything at arm’s length, it’s hard for anything to get a good grip on me. it’s like i’m barely floating above shin-deep water, only just dipping in – breathing shallow, and scarcely opening my eyes. i prefer to be like this because taking the world in all at once wears me down – i can’t stretch myself out too far without falling limp. but on some days, i want to dig a little deeper into the feeling that’s simmering in my chest. i want to crack myself open, to let myself swallow something up; something that’s worthy of a big breath in. here are a few things that i pull into my chest in moments like these:

| warm sunlight:

if i could ask for anything, i would turn to the sun. i would ask it to rise all day, and to keep on setting all through the night. natural light is all the world needs to keep spinning – and it’s all i need to keep spinning, too. nothing opens me up like a well-lit sunny bedroom does. i want to soak up all that glowing orb in the sky has to offer – all year round i’m waiting for that patch of sun to spread itself across the grass so i can spread my arms right by its side. (i’m sunburnt all summer for a reason).

| up high:


walking up mountains digs into me deeply. this is probably partly due to my lungs struggling as i haul myself uphill, but i like to think that it’s mostly because i’m pulling myself up taller than wherever i was before. being up high and looking down at the world beneath you is the best way to realise how small you are – mountain peaks are the best (as well as my most favourite) gateway to coming to this realisation.

| the sky:

above all else, the sky is my saving grace. this is something i realised not long ago, after seeing yoko ono’s piece a hole to see the sky through (1971). looking at the sky with my full attention was something i had never done before – until one day, probably about a year ago now, when i was dealing with myself in a well-dragged-out panic and ended up with my back to the ground, staring straight up. just like how looking down at things can help you breathe more deeply, so does looking straight up. by looking straight up, i mean straight up, with no surrounds – i mean, it’s vital that you’re pressing your back into the earth and cancelling out everything but the blueness floating overhead. looking at the sky is the most important life lesson i’ve ever taken in. the sky digs deeper than anything else in the entire world can – there’s nothing as wide, as tall, as all-encompassing and completely calming, as the sky.

no matter how far you can stretch yourself out, everyone needs to take a moment sometimes. for me, i let these moments in with the sky, up high, with the sun by my side. wherever you are, whether it’s with your skin pressed against some sun-stained grass or in a busy supermarket line trying to keep yourself together – please remember to take a second: for a big breath in. sometimes, what’s most important is to let yourself let the world in, a little bit at a time.


all my love,


betty’s anzac biscuits

my grandma betty has a recipe book. it’s the kind of recipe-book you think your grandma would have. it’s an old notebook, the pages are yellow from age, old cut outs from the very first editions of womens weekly fall out from the pages when you open it, and every page has, written in her beautiful handwriting, recipes for all kinds of amazing cakes and treats. the kind you read about in enid blyton stories.


when i first stopped eating animal products, grandma made a comment about how she wouldn’t be able to bake for me anymore. i didn’t want to lose all those treats – jelly cakes, butterfly cakes and my most favourite: anzac biscuits. so i made it my mission to make vegan versions of all of these.

anzac biscuits have a spotty history. it’s one of those things that both australia and new zealand claim to have done first. they’re known for being made to send over to soldiers during world war one, so had to last a long period of time, and also had to be made out of the ingredients available during ration times. i don’t really like anzac day, i’m not heaps keen on the glorification of war, but i do love anzac biscuits. this is my vegan version of my grandmas very traditional anzac biscuit recipe. they’re easy and very, very tasty.

anzac biscuits

1 cup rolled oats
3/4 cup of shredded coconut
1 cup plain flour
3/4 cup caster sugar
1 1/2 tsp bicarbonate soda
2 tbsp boiling water
125g vegan butter or margarine
1 tbsp golden syrup

preheat oven to 175*C
mix the oats, flour, sugar and coconut in a medium mixing bowl.
in a saucepan, melt the butter with the golden syrup.
mix together the bicarbonate soda and boiling water (be prepared for it to foam up a bit, because science) then add to the butter and syrup mixture (it will foam up again here).
pour into the dry ingredients and stir until well combined.
spoon tablespoon sized balls of mixture onto a lined baking tray and the flatten slightly with the back of the spoon (if it’s too sticky slightly wetting the spoon can help)
bake until golden.
sit aside to cool (they’ll firm up quite a lot as they cool down)
eat them!

makes about 12-15 biscuits.

sometimes they puff up quite a bit in the oven, but they should go down a bit while they cool. i’ve thought about trying to make them a bit healthier and perhaps using coconut oil instead of butter and maybe maple syrup instead of golden syrup. this will definitely change the taste, but maybe in a good way. it’s also tasty if you add dried fruit like apricots or seeds like pepitas.

hope you enjoy,




first impressions: listening in


“something good” is what’s hovering above us when we’re all together. it’s the feeling in the air when aayushi knocks on your door with her tarot box under her arm; it’s the steam that fills the room when charlie’s making you a cup of tea without you ever needing to ask her to. something good is what i’m searching for as i pull myself out of bed every morning – it’s the feeling i need to find my footing. and i find this feeling in my female friendships; in the girls that i know well.

but you don’t know us yet! as “us”, we are aayushi, charlie, and me, maddy. we’re new here. we’ve only just begun to stretch our necks out, standing up on tip toes to see the world ahead. we’re still new – to ourselves, as well as you. we’re still stretching out our fingers, learning to type to you what we love, who we are, and what we know. and at this moment, we’ve still got a lot of getting-to-know-eachother to do.

below is a playlist of songs for you to get to know us. the songs have been piled on top of each other by me and me alone – aayushi and charlie had no input, aside from the peter bjorn and john song which i put in for them, because i know it reminds them of a gossip girl episode. these songs aren’t necessarily indicative of who we are – but they’re songs i can picture us all listening to. whether it’s charlie spinning around her bedroom in her nightie or aayushi curled up at the foot of the bed, these songs are what i hear when i want to fill up our silences. so i’d love for you to listen in as you navigate who we are, and how you know us.

listen to “first impressions” on 8tracks here.


all my love,



where will she go, and what shall she do



on the shelf under my record player there’s a box i like to get out every once in a while. my magic purple box housing my magic purple tarot deck has been getting a lot of use lately. maybe because i’m two zero twenty which means i’m teetering somewhere between talking about my adult future and actually living it. maybe because boys are confusing and so am i. but also because of my beautiful friends, who sit with me as i tentatively reach out into their futures, and they let me.

tarot readings are intimate, comforting, terrifying and wonderfully feminine. unlike other forms of divination, the reader and the seeker work together to unravel what the cards want us to know. it’s about vibing and touching and sensing what’s to come and what it is we need to hear. i sat with Charlie outside on the deck with the dogs and gave her a reading. we felt strongly about the way the cards were connected to each other, less clear about how they linked in with what has been bothering her right now. her spread was overwhelmingly positive, and as we discussed what it could all mean i felt like together we were able to access knowledge that no one person can hold alone. tarot feels like a superpower, and all my readings for myself have been hugely significant in my life. The cards told me i felt stifled- i broke up with a toxic high school boyfriend. they told me to be brave, to be risky- i decided to pursue what i love and study books and films. during so many major turning points in my life, i have felt this hidden strength. armed with hazy memories of what’s to come and belief in my own mysticism i feel as though i can make my future come true.

look at your friends. aren’t they magic? look at you. you’re magic too.

lots of love,



good morning pancakes

pancakes are super good. they’re tasty and exciting and you can put anything you want on them. i’m dog-sitting this weekend – the house i’m staying at has two beautiful rhodesian ridgebacks and really nice blue and white crockery. we’ve only been here one night and we’ve already filled the the dishwasher testing out all the super fucking nice plates and mugs. this morning I made pancakes to celebrate the crockery.

pancake post

about 1 cup flour
1 1/2 tablespoons baking powder
about 1 cup of soy milk
2 tablespoons vegetable oil
~ optional cinnamon|vanilla|cardamon ~
coconut oil or vegetable shortening to cook

measure flour and baking powder into a medium sized bowl. slowly add oil and half the soy milk while stirring. gradually add the rest of the soy milk (you may not need all of it) until the batter is thick enough to hold its’ shape but thin enough to spread easily. heat a fry pan on the stove at a low-medium heat. when oil has melted add a large spoonful of the mixture to the pan and spread evenly. when the mixture begins to bubble and appears to have a film over the top flip the pancake. it should be nice and golden, you may have to adjust the heat accordingly.


~serve with fresh fruit and maple syrup or anything you want. you’re a grown up, you can make your own decisions~