Frazier

A little Frazier takes me to a street in Nice on a sunny afternoon. Or the opening credits of To Catch A Thief. I mentioned last time these remind me of Grace Kelly. I guess they hold true to form. In my heart and my painting memory, those colors Matisse and Dufy played with and the clothes designed for her, mix to bring me all kinds of enchantment, a feeling of sublime. Some creations are like that. Pure essence distilled and reconstituted to carry across a chasm. They take us from one edge to another on a scent, a color, a form. No real translation needed across the borderlands. It is like dreaming of flying, n'est-pas? No obstacles in the way. Good art, good writing, good pastry making all have magic within them for those who know how to play. Give me a moment of magic. Give me a simple potent phrase. Add a dash of color, the grace of a coutour gown. It matters not to me. Give me an essence in an art form to carry me through the day. Touchstones. We all need them. Tokens of transport. To a higher better us. I say bring them on. Make me giggle, ooh and ahh, or pause to ponder. Give me another tool. Fuel. Pure fuel from the muses you see. So little Frazier you and chef have done your job. I can conquer all those beasts, those mundane creatures of life. Ahh, now on we go to conquer something called an... SEO?...and to find a purple cow? Oh muses, don't fail me now.