Love

I walk down the red and white and brick halls, and see the places where she was.
I never met Eva, but she is everywhere. She's a part of this building, and these people, and she is therefore a part of me, in some way.

Our department recently had a memorial for her, where we saw a screening of her documentary, 65_redroses, which was - for a lack of better words - amazing.

Her blog can be found by clicking here. The last few entries are from her family, and everything previous makes it very clear what a brilliantly creative person Eva was. And the impact she will continue to have on the world.

Here is a link for more information on her documentary, which is now available on DVD.

And finally, much of Eva's legacy is in the increase of those who have signed up to be organ donors. Here is the link to the BC Transplant website.

From the memorial, I remembered and resonated with the fact that she was here to love. She has inspired so much love in this world, and I remember hearing her talk about how she survived because she had so much love in her life. And if she can touch so many people, without even having known them, she's done much, much more than she ever set out to do.

Just. Love.

Grr.

Oh, yes, my tasty little friends across the web. It is another bit of ranting about frustration.
I promise it will be at least a little entertaining, and I'll give you video carrots-on-sticks to make sure you stay with me.
PLUS, if you're interested in some thoughts from someone who should call herself an artist-in-the-making, read on.

And I'll be back to my old tricks soon.

Why is it that we feel such a big rush of pressure to get going on our lives? I feel, right now, that for all of the "take it easy" type advice I'm getting, I am also getting about three times as many "tick tock, cookie. You're not living forever. Life has balls to grab, so gloves off!"

And I mean, that's all well and good. I don't want to loll around uselessly until something happens to me. Passivity isn't something I'm going for here.

But I just get the feeling that, in the eyes of a lot of people, if I don't get going on making myself something PRONTO, I'll wind up being no one.

God forbid I want to travel, or work and pay off my debts (which are piling up) so I can get into a career in the art world without having to pay them off AND work to live. God forbid I want to take a day or two to just be, and not write, not think about agents, resumés, photos, blarg.

And yet, at the same time, it almost seems ingrained in my being that I think about these things. When I'm not actually working, studying or sleeping, I'm thinking. That's a lie, I think when I sleep, too.

Thinking about everything from my ideal film role (that I won't write about - it'll be too good if it happens, and I don't want to jinx it), about the headshots I'll need to take, if I work for awhile, how to keep my muscles - physical and otherwise - ready to go ... and if I'll "make it". And there we go. What does "make it" mean?

First video reward. You've been so good. You will hopefully have seen this.


Okay. Where were we? RIGHT, "making it" and how subjective that is.

I'd just like to be able to do well for myself and for whoever is in my life. Partner, Futurebrats, the Parents in Hometown ... these people (hypothetical and real) mean a lot to me, so being able to take care of them is important.

I also want to do things that challenge me, and make me happy. That's what it is.

To be continued. Isn't it ever.

Welcome to the Waiting

Welcome to the waiting
time,
in-between and around action.
Welcome to what if, I don't know
can't answer that right now.
Welcome to the fork in the road
choose.
Welcome to the make-your-own-story
where it burns up if you don't
flip to page 73
Welcome to grabbing,
going forward and not running
saying goodbye when you know that it is right.
Welcome to frost,
after waiting, more waiting.
Waiting is the event.
Fill up the time.
Bring a book
(or write one) -
spend it thinking
laughing
meeting
falling, falling in love (maybe)
falling out, too.
to buying dresses
and holding hands
and vigils
and going home.
And then it comes!
Action, movement, propulsion,
which makes you crave the waiting
which makes you want to be idly busy
and not wringing out
over one thing
going one toe at a time
or headfirst
into the next part of your life
the next job
family
friend
love
whatever it is
and seeing where it will go
(if, actually, if it will go)
and keep on the same way
eventually forgetting the frustration
- now and then -
of waiting, wringing, deciding
and just living.

Tasty, Tasty Melodies pt. 2

I used to live alone, in my own little apartment before moving in with Roommate.

Living on your own makes for a lot of culinary experimentation - at least in my case, which means a lot of failures. I laugh now, but I was almost in tears when I scraped away bits of burned caserole that I had spent hours preparing.

But that's what you do: you make, you fail. You try again. You do better.

My mother is an amazing cook, and either through genetics or osmosis, I've picked up her innate sense of seasoning, and the ability to turn a few sad little ingredients into something good. I owe her a lot for every time someone takes a bite of something I've made and goes "wow". And for remembering that preparing food is not only about picking fresh ingredients and not adding too much salt, but the intention with which you make it. Food tastes better when prepared with - prepare yourself - love. Cheesy? Of course. But it's true.

One thing I neglected to do when I cooked for myself sometimes was the love. I'd toss a few things together, and hope they'd keep me full. Or, I'd get on the phone for some takeout.

One time, though, I came home exhausted, sad and needing to take care of myself. There had been rough times with a boyfriend, and I had walked home, anticipating calling the Chinese place down the street.

And then, I remembered. I am alone. I need to eat. And I need to eat well.

So, I cranked Mother Mother, and made this pasta sauce. O My Heart is a very punchy album, and tastes like red sauce to me. With kamut spaghetti.

--

Note that this is for one person, so make it for yourself, and spend some me time. Or, multiply it if you must for others.

I'm using sauce out of a jar for a base, but I love making it 100% from scratch. It takes time, so if you're really hungry, swallow the pride and just go for the jar stuff.

The "O My Heart" Pasta for the Lone Diner

Basic Sauce
- 1 cup pasta sauce (I love the Paul Newman Bombolina sauce. It's a tomato basil, so it's basic.)
- 1/8 cup red wine
-2 cloves garlic, minced
- 1/2 red onion, chopped
- 1 teaspoon black pepper
- pinch of cayenne pepper
- salt to taste
- 1/2 teaspoon chili flakes (go for a quarter if you're not a spicy type)
- 1/2 tablespoon olive oil
- 1 teaspoon rosemary (1 1/2 if fresh)

Suggestions for Add-ins (pick a few, and then adjust spices accordingly)
- Veggie ground round (original - less salty), ground chicken, etc. (pick one, and then use between 1/8 and 1/4 pounds, depending on how much meat you want. Cook it alone and add it in)
- Diced mushrooms (add after the onions)
- Red bell pepper (ditto)

Pasta
My favourite type of pasta is kamut. It's a whole grain alternative to wheat, and it is delicious. This sauce is strong, and white pasta probably won't cut it, and I strongly suggest a whole grain of some kind. Follow the package directions for your choice.

1. Over a medium heat, with the olive oil, fry up them onions. The red onion lends a sweetness to the sauce that is otherwise very robust. Keep them on their own until they're fairly tender. Add garlic. Turn the heat down just a bit to prevent it from burning. Stir for a few minutes.

2. Add the sauce, and stir. Start adding the spices, gradually. Because this is your sauce, make it just the way you want. A really good way to do the spices is to mix them all together in a small bowl and add pinches, tasting until you like what's going on. Pre-prepared sauces will also have a certain amount of salt, so make sure you know what you're dealing with before you add any.

3. This is my favourite part: add the wine, take the burner down to a low heat, and let that bad boy simmer. Take a sec here to check on your pasta, and to make a nice place setting for yourself.

4. After five minutes, it should be ready to go. Pour it over the pasta, add some parm, and eat. And, for Pete's sake, enjoy it. Don't do anything except eat.

Here's a cool version of of "Burning Pile" from OMH.