Wednesday, August 13, 2014

Kitchen Art

I like to cook.  Seriously like to cook.  I love the smell of onions when they hit hot butter, garlic in anything, the soft scent of vanilla can calm me like few others.  I need to remember this everyday when I drag my feet over dinner.

I get it, the day is long, I am tired, I feel uninspired when I think of the meal.  I have been known to wail, "Do we need to eat dinner EVERY DAY?"  However, I need to remind myself that no matter how stressed out I am, how pressed for time, how tired and sore I am, the moment the cutting board is on the kitchen counter and my knife is in my hands poised to chop an onion I can feel my heart rate settle and my mind quiet.

The quiet and interesting thoughts that wander through my mind as I chop, peel, slice, and arrange are nearly meditative.  It is a way to clear all the clobber out that has built up through the day, or puzzle at a particularly sticky situation I am facing.  That moment when I hit a rhythm and my movements become more like a dance is pure magic for me.  Of particular joy is that spot in time when a little voice in my head will begin to whisper ingredients I hadn't thought of that are the perfect addition to what I am working on.

I don't draw, paint, write poetry or compose music.  I cook.  It is my art, my expression of love, the way I show my care and they way I find peace in a noisy world.

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