Food for thought. . .turn it all off!

First the food part. . .early evening I turned from the studio to the kitchen wondering what I could possibly muster up for dinner?  I poured a glass of wine to contemplate the dilemma and rouse the taste buds. . .then began the ritual of gathering up brushes and scraping my palette.  Today was the first day of school for the kids in this city . . .school buses were out in force, and in the age-old tradition of this momentous day, the weather cooperated and turned a little cooler!  Evening light actually seemed to fade faster as families gathered around the dinner table getting all the school news.  I love the nostalgic feel of the turning of the seasons and the memories it evokes. . .

Back to dinner and my kitchen discovery:  I had fresh asparagus, organic portabello tomato sauce and whole wheat angel hair. . .decision instantly made.

First I infused olive oil with anchovy paste, fresh garlic, red pepper flakes, Italian herbs, French grey sea salt and fresh ground pepper.  In went the asparagus for just a tiny bit, a few tangy capers, then the mushroom tomato sauce and a splash of red wine!  Meanwhile pasta was bubbling away.  A little grated Parmesan Reggiano and magically all was well in the world.  Perfect for the first coolish back-to-school-day, even though I don't function on that particular calendar anymore and haven't for many, many years! 

Now for the "turn it all off" part. . .and in lieu of speaking that "all was well in the world." 

I sometimes listen to NPR while painting, making a feeble attempt to keep up with world happenings, etc.  But sadly I'm here to report I'm going to have to quit, go cold turkey, tough it out.  Now even NPR is interfering with my brain waves, scrambling my insides. . .the shape shifters of media who dominate our lives (or is that relentlessly bombard?) just don't let up with the negativity.  I ask how in the world can we rise, bloom, grow with such large thumbs pushing us down?  Today I felt I was in too deep. . .I seriously wondered if the penetrating, repetitive, over-blown adjectives and voice inflections could actually be considered verbal abuse of some sort!?  Thankfully the press of a button took care of it. . .sound waves no longer entered my space, and more importantly, no longer entered my spirit. 

Lest you get confused and think I'm adding to the problem by my small complaint here. . .well, point taken.  So I offer this. . .imagine how families were gathered around the dinner table tonight while children offered up discussions of teachers, classmates and all the ingredients that make up a first day of school!  Paint in your mind a Norman Rockwell table scene.  And yes, Rockwell's "Freedom of Want" print hung in my grandmother's dining room all my life.  Dream a little. . .dream a lot. . .now, doesn't your footprint/mindprint feel lighter?