I tasted my salted caramel ice cream again today after dinner. The one where I had mixed bits of leftover sponge cake from a failed swiss roll experiment (the cake wasn’t bendy enough and fell to pieces when rolled). In the small moment, memories of all my ice cream moments blasted through me.

You see, it has been slightly over a year since I launched the Kickstarter. And like many projects, it got more complex than I anticipated. I wasn’t happy with it exactly. And the years trained as a designer, I felt unease.

But you see, the project all started with a simple taste of ice cream. Probably when I was younger. When my dad generously put scoops into plastic bowls that perhaps came from an airline meal. Our mom was most likely at work at her PM shift as a nurse. And it was the father only evening. There I probably had ice cream. Most likely storebought. But it’s memories of those evenings where we weren’t rushed, pushed to do anything.

I remember tasting freedom.