Tingly Tongue

Blimey, Scattered has just had a major revelation. Well, when I say Scattered, I mean me - I’ve just had a revelation. (I feel so much more powerful when I refer to myself as the omnipotent being that is Scattered. I’m like a soulless, faceless, art dominatrix. Is that wrong?)

Anyway, back to the revelation. No doubt many an aged oriental sage has sat by a big mountain and contemplated the implications of risk and adventure while rubbing said mountain with a silk hanky every century. And no doubt many an arse-wipe banker has sat at his/her desk and contemplated risk before disregarding it completely and selling out his/her granny for a greasy, fat bonus. And me? I’ve eaten a chocolate. Okay, this generally happens on a daily basis but this chocolate was different. This chocolate contained a hazelnut!

I don’t want to bore you with my mundane medical history (shingles and a fractured wrist have been the highlights in case you’re interested and, if you are, I don't want to be rude but that's a bit weird) but suffice to say that a bowl of muesli several years ago resulted in a tingly tongue and hence a self-diagnosis of a hazelnut allergy. This has not been easy to live with. Many a time I have had to pretend to be generous and offer a friend the hazelnut-infested chocolates left in a box. I have had to donate a full, unopened jar of chocolate spread to someone else’s cupboard and, just this Christmas, I had to reject the Ferrero Roche selection box my mum had bought for me. (No, I don’t know why she bought it either. This is the sort of motherly act that could send a lesser person into therapy.)

But this evening? This evening was different. Risk and caution went out of the health and safety window and I took a chocolate out of a box without reading the little chocolate menu thingy. I ate half of the chocolate. I saw an indentation in the half that remained. The indentation was decidedly hazelnut shaped. I crunched on something decidedly hazelnut like. I waited. I thought I may as well make the most of the few minutes I had remaining so I ate two more chocolates from the box in quick succession (although not so quickly that I wasn’t able to read the menu thingy this time because while I knew death was imminent, I didn’t want to be found dead and severely swollen). I waited. I watched Spotlight. Death was slow in his morbid arrival. I flicked over and caught the end of Hollyoaks. I suspected that Death was actually slacking a bit. And then it hit me – the revelation that is and not the anticipated death by tingly tongue. I am NOT allergic to hazlenuts!

And the moral of this emotional tale? Take a risk, god dammit! Go on, go crazy. Make something, draw something, paint something, knit something, sculpt something, weave something etc. etc. Scattered is waiting for you and your revelations...

P.S. If you are allergic to nuts, please do not eat one and then film yourself for some sort of art versus death concept piece. Thanks.