Poem: Sung Sweetly

Slow
Song
Sung
Sweetly
Stand
Still
Seeking
Sound

Silence
Scatters
Skittering
Strings
Shaking
Strumming
Stealing
Superficial
Sights

Substituting
Stronger
Scenes
Souls
Stretching
Soft
Serene

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Recipe: Chipotle Aioli, Habanero Ghost Pepper Jack, Pesto, Red Quinoa & Turkey

47DF2D5C-4F2E-4B78-8A99-52772E849269I had a big batch of red quinoa. I made it earlier today to have in an asian greens salad with blueberries, habenero ghost pepper jack and lemon ginger seseme dressing.

So for dinner I whipped out the quinoa and shredded the habenaro jack into it, followed by generous dollops of pesto, 3 torn up turkey slices and some chipotle aioli. I mixed it up w/ a fork and thought I was going to heat it, but ended up loving it at temp. Though I think it might be good with the cheese melted in by heating.

Quick meal or side and yummy. Slide scale of proportions as you like for taste and consistency.

Pinprick (Poem)

If life were like a map laid out before me

i would still pick the stars to press my pinpoint into

and watch it unravel the fabric,

more brillant with every indention

evidence of my absolute intentions

and my penchant to aim straight for perfection

One pinpoint can hold my map up on the wall

why do so many take it out and watch it fall?

Dip: Sauerkraut, artichoke pesto

After a wknd prep of many meals for T’s wks away, I found a smidge of  Stonemill’s artichoke, jalapeño & parmesan in the fridge.

To bulk it up I added some:

Sauerkraut

Bold-n-Gold Moosetard: Alaskan Mustard

Avocado Mayo Oil from Chosen Foods

Basil Pesto

First I tried it with

wheat thins,

then corn chips

then melted on toast in the toaster oven.

I liked all the versions.

This is one of those no dishes, easy recipes.

Add all the ingredients in one place, mix it up and voila!

Woolen Slippers

I donated my old slippers because I didn’t like wearing them. I also thought I had a pair waiting for me at my other house. But when I journeyed there this weekend, found none and felt a faint tingle in the back of my mind, “oh yes, I donated them too because I didn’t love them”.  I am trying to get better about shooing things out of my life that I don’t heartily enjoy. This new habit I’m trying to form has left me slipperless.

Shopping is fairly torturous to me, I avoid rambling around looking for things. I don’t have a lot of belief that anything I will cherish is manufactured in bulk. Thus, when I am disproven it is usually the result of a gift. Fortunately in this instance I stumbled on a work around.

I went looking in my yarn bin for materials to make a crocheted Trotro doll for my niece’s X mas present around the same time I was experiencing slipper loss and just starting to warm up the cabin by woodstove heat.

Years ago I did my student teaching in New Zealand and I still remember the day in the market that I bought some virgin wool. A woman named Nicole made me her confidante. She was in a quandary. She said she had started to raise a few sheep to have wool for her projects. She said she had been naive, she didn’t realize they would multiple so quickly. She promised herself when there were 15 she would find a solution to keep the numbers low. She repromised at 20. She said she now had 30 and couldn’t think of having the lambs slaughtered, but couldn’t kill the old ones either. What should she do, she asked me. Me, a twenty something from America, I had no idea what to say to her. Her wools were soft and varied. Creams to greys and browns and rich charcoal, I could imagine this beautiful flock and the impossibility of trying to decide between them. These are materials I can love. I bought a variety, and way more than this non-consumer could concieve of. When I got it home to my place in NZ n realized my bags were full and I was to depart in a few days I realized I would have to wear it to get it home. I crocheted it into a long sleeveless cloak with a big pocket and traveled home encompassed in the heart of the land of NZ. It stayed that way, for years, I had never intended to keep it in that form, but somehow it remained and went on many more travels with me. Finally a few years ago I set to the task of taking it apart and finally, they are anew

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#1 Drawing One Hour

For a long time I have had an urge to draw again. It has been quite a while since I have done any dedicated practice in this art, which feels weird, since drawing was my intoduction to a love of art.

So finally I am trying. I am making no promises, but working on doing something about the itch.

Here is my first recent draw session as the work changed over the minutes. Abstract/ Realism6BCFAFA6-0400-4E56-9431-47FFB5A7D623680E243E-D2C9-4019-B1AB-78DC88522FA87447D63B-6630-46FA-9D81-E9E024EE23A8

Draw One Hour

I am going to try to do an hour of drawing a day as often as I can. I’ve done two sessions. The first one was shorter than an hour, and I will post that one soon. This is the  second time, and I did about 1.5 hrs, but I’m not working on this one beyond tonight since the face is too long and I can’t fix that easily, so onto the next try.5CA87461-F95E-4C26-9D91-95AC61EB86AECB64E416-4662-48E7-83D5-3F4C2BA8CBE8