Back from vacation, unwinding the tongue and playing in the garden.
recipe:
Grow for about three months. Water daily and speak kindly. Pick. Wear as a mask. Roll up leaves and slice to ribbons. Saute three cloves garlic (sliced) in olive oil. Add red pepper flakes, salt and pepper, capers. Add collard ribbons, saute five minutes. Add 1/4 cup water. Cook 'til tender.
3 comments:
Hey Erin, it’s taken me too long to thank you for your details re: polaroid camera - sorry. Thanks for writing it up, but it sounds too complicated for me, I need something that is just there and can be used. You do get gorgeous photos from it though.
I’m trying to catch up with reading blogs. It’s good to spend time with yours, there’s so much and in such diverse media, and everything with your own touch. it seems you’re trying yourself out in all kinds of directions. Beautiful life-drawings with the figures hovering between presence and absence. And all those lovely spring pix. I’ve got a small magnolia tree in my garden, its flowers opened about two weeks ago, their extravagance in these still wintery days is just stunning.
I’m esp. touched by your 5 February post. The desire to have the world in sync with one’s one feelings, your grief, and the not-quite surprise at finding beauty aside the pain, beauty that is heart-breaking too – you’ve expressed that wonderfully and concisely.
Hope your tongue has unwound and glad you’re playing in the garden. The pic made me smile – how does one think with a collard flower head? A new way of saying: think green?
:)) very good idea for food photography for a recipe!
marjojo,
no worries about the camera, only sorry it seems too much work.
I'm so glad when you stop by and leave notes. It's always so encouraging and I've been too long in responding, and in that time losing the impetus of conversation.
Regarding my many interests I sometimes worry I have creative ADD. Everything is so interesting and new and holds such promise if I can just unlock it. So I test the keys and explore the labyrinth hovering here and there. All of it informs and shapes me. I giggled to myself recently flipping through sketchbooks from 3-4 years ago and finding the beginnings of my work now. sketches of looped wire and tiny prints of hair, it was affirming somehow, my life is so different but my creative DNA is slowly unveiling itself. It's good to know my mark is apparent to others.
Oh how I wish I had your luck of a magnolia my yard. Summer is on its way here already with its muggy hot days, and the Southern Magnolia is finally blooming.
grief is a strange thing, isn't it? It still surprises me, even though I spent the last two years studying it so intensely, still finding everything so beautiful despite pain and I am so glad for it.
I've enjoyed reading about your foray into poetry and writing, haven't sat down to relay my responses, I take such a long time to catch up and organize my thoughts and then place them into it can seem daunting but I will do it soon.
karin,
thanks, I feel so close to the food from my garden, wonder am I eating myself when I cook them?
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