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Wednesday, August 26, 2009

funky funky doo

Yes, I am stuck. If you've noticed I've been in the process of moving for like the whole Summer and haven't said anything... thank you. I'm stuck. Right now I am at the point where the things I love most are left to pack. My two studios: art and food.
The Art Studio is rather self explanatory. I love these things. They are an extension of who I am, the soul behind the work. The Food Studio is a bit more difficult. But here goes:
One of the things that I loved most about my gramma Olive was her inability to cook. What? Yes. If it was out of a box it was okay. From scratch? Well she left that kind of cooking to Grampa. But Gramma Olive was the soul of hospitality. Her goulash wasn't the best but it was made with love and served with joy. So from the time I began learning to cook and serve at the age of 5, it was in me that this was a way to show love and affection. This concept rooted itself deeply when I was 14 and Grampa was is the hospital. The sibs had sports things after school and I was left home to cook dinner to be redy when they got home, mom got home from the hospital and to keep my hands and mind busy. Those were not the best roasts of my kitchen career. Then when we moved into the new house and Dad and I started a steady diet of Saturday morning PBS shows, the Frugal Gourmet and Martin Yan took over my education. Surprisingly, this is also where and when I met Martha Stewart for the first time. She wasn't quite a household word yet.
Dad and I started to play with the recipes that he'd begun to teach me. We tried leaf herbs under the skin of our roast chicken with fruit in the middle... WOW! Glory days in the kitchen indeed. And that is all it took for me to think of food as art and another way for me to show people that I care.
I've begun collecting the tools of a food artist. My pride and joy, a 5 qt. Kitchen Aide stand mixer that makes the smoothest batters for my cheesecakes. I have these tools left to pack. And my heart bleeds when I look at it. I know I have to pack it. But it is going into storage and I don't know when I will get to use them again. Just like I don't know when I will get to use my art supplies again.
My heart hurts because I finally have tons of people upon whom I can lavish these gifts. I've been isolated for ten years working 7 days a week and through the long nights. In all that time i practiced and honed my craft. Now... my tools are to be put away indefinately. I don't know how to get passed this and get the move on. I need to before someone decides to pack for me. And yet...
I want to make a cheesecake, Grampa's holiday loaf and roast a chicken. Why is this so hard to do?