Blackberry Kiwi Tart

What is so special about a little tart all alone? How can it sustain an ongoing search? Is it an analogy? A symbol for something else? An artist has only a few tools to use and a simple bag of tricks. There are many people who can paint. Make it look believable. Is that what this is about? A few brush strokes, some technical finesse and we're done? Just to make a sale? Or is there more? An "experiment in small oils". In an experiment there is a question. An hypothesis. Some steps to make a test. The follow through, the writing down and an answer at the end. But this is art, is it the same? Well, yes. You see my friends the question became how do I rebuild? How do I regenerate when everything was lost. When cut off from my source. No studio, few art supplies, no still life material, a hazardous wetlands I cannot yet walk. If you remove the artist from his terrain, and take away his tools. His daily life. What remains? What goes into making art alive is the answer to that question. And it has to be coaxed sometimes, like an appetite one loses, to try a bit of this or that. Reach through a wall of mourning to the juicy stuff, that can come out again to play. It takes it all to be present. To make the difference. To set up that vibration. There is in each and every tart and cake and treat a breath of life, an exploration. There you are, I see you now coming into being. There's juiciness and life again. On it's own little island.

Golden Chocolate Dome

If you go to the Winn Dixie on Tchoupitoulas Street at any given time, you are likely to find yourself facing a ship's hull and cranes, a tanker,from some exotic place. There in the parking lot with all the SUV's, just above the trees, a helm of ochres and blues. They come from all over, through the mouth of the river , up and back carrying all kinds of things. Or if you go to the Fly to watch the boats go by, right behind the zoo, you'll see them being nudged by tugs, up and down the current to various river side silos and storage tanks. To load or unload and load again. Lots of your coffee, and tons of your oil, rice and sugar too have passed before my eyes. In great hulking shapes with little bright tugs bringing them safely to port or away. If you look at the shapes and the angles of them on this little chocolate dome, you might be able to see a ship, a tanker or a tug, braving the currents, sailing away carrying its special cargo. In this case a rich chocolate mousse. It is only tempered chocolate, I know. But I saw it immediately, as Richard Serra might. And for a moment there I was, sitting on the levee at the Fly watching the ships go by under an early evening sky. Look and you will be there with me too. Loving the gently setting sun, watching the purple clouds grow. The gold glinting off the hull. A friend sitting by your side. A pause in the day to just be. Wondering where this one is from, watching the little tugs push and pull. Catching a southern breeze ruffling through the pines.

Raspberry Knockout

I should have known by the way she was slightly off center that this diva was going to be trouble. My friend George always said," Careful if you knock on trouble's door. Trouble will be home." But raspberries, lots of them, almonds, a virtual chorus, and raspberry mousse on a golden stage. I heard the orchestra warming up.The program I read again. Raspberry Knockout. A huge wow factor indeed. My resolve began to waver. I stood on the brink, what, of possible disaster? Oh no, what is the harm? How could it hurt? This diva is so glamourous. Was that a wink? I'm having it, I said. So I grabbed her up and took her home, mouth watering, brush eager to capture the sparkle. When halfway through, oh no, she started to sink, her backside migrating southward. Oh no you don't. OH yes I am she said. You think glamour comes easy? I needed a rest. Now you do your best. Don't let my reputation suffer. Now peel me grape, and get me a robe, and, yes, paint faster!

Chocolate Fondant Heart

What is an artist painting? And what do you see? Somewhere in that overlap is what the painting is. I have names for it. Painting outside of the frame. Call and response. In this ether are untold possibilities. For collectors, admirers, critics, and makers, art is supposed to live. And this is where it does. How lovely to see an apple or a pear rendered so perfectly. But look at one of Julien's recent peaches pics and you will see how his choice of placement ,confined, his choice of light, dramatic yet soft, made them more. It resonates with me. Because of his choices and my response to those. Simple. This heart is a chocolate fondant heart. I almost left it in the case because it is a heart, could be really trite.Too cute. Then I thought, no, Jim Dine. I have always loved his hearts. He used them playfully. Home it came for me to try. I like setting up a challenge. Even a "simple " one. Then before I could paint it, or when I was roughing it in, an unexpected pleasure came my way. Someone honored and touched my own heart .Talented writer that he is. Funny sometimes how it works, the muse. So I tossed Jim Dine out the window. And painted this one for JEB, an artist at heart to me.So what is an artist painting? And what do you see? A bit of the artist trying to make something personal and true. Color and line, shape and some space. A chocolate fondant heart. Made richer. And that is treasure to me.

Cheesecake Vanilla Bean

Ermine. Do you see it? Just in those little specks. I couldn't figure out for awhile why this one was different. Then I saw what he's done. Added vanilla bean to the whipped cream. Bingo! Now we can go to Madagascar, or talk orchids and such. Just for that one, that one little touch. Off to the silk road, to trade for some silk or porcelain. We have a little spice to make it more, more than a creamy luscious dessert. A chance for a ride on a boat to a far off place. My childhood books, The Enchanted Wonderland, had maps inside the covers with blue waves and jumping fish, sailing ships going off to somewhere fun I just knew. I wanted to go there , go there too. Explore. There were poems inside, and stories too. Wee Willie Winkle in his nightgown...illustrated capital letters to kick off the start of a new tale, a new bit of verse. I loved those books. You can image my smile when I found out Eudora Welty had them too!! Isn't it fun, to fall into some little bit of a thing that taps into that self, that knows the glee, of a little adventure, or fantasy. I wonder if chef, if he had them too ? Does he fight off dragons, or sail away with the moon. Maybe he was royal just for today, with ermine and velvet,a robe made of jaune.There's a golden glint of his crown. When we see jumping fish on a pastry or two. We''ll know it for sure. He'll be saying come play. Come join me today.

Chocolate Nun Trois

This little nun is a bit bedraggled. There were only two left in the case. I looked at the other pretty things, but kept coming back to her. I heard myself say after picking the others, I'll take one of those nuns too. The one in the front. What was it about her?The chocolate was starting to run. Taking her top knot with it. But there she stood with grace. As I painted her, I liked her more. The chocolate was glossy. Her pastry was puffed. Her ruffle was bright. Don't be afraid to show a few wisps out of place, a splatter or two. We are like this.We who do. Look at the light and the energy. Give her some Paris blue. This nun has been busy, tending to things, making them go. Arranging a myriad of details all day. Juggling a ball or two. And yet,she could play ball, tell a story, or sing. She's been given God's grace I think. I think she spoke to me. We are blessed she says.In a great many ways. We may get bedraggled, some days may be tough. But at the end of the day...I still have my custard. My chocolate is still yummy. The puffs are golden and crisp.Was she glowing? I would like to say she is with me still. But I gobbled her up! Licked my fingers.Blessed? Oh yes. Blessed indeed. I think it was the custard....

Strawberries and Creme

Some days are scented. Enhancing. Fuller, more sublime. From perfumes to Valrhona chocolate tastings to pastries with creme. I've been at it again. Looking for it, reaching, searching a path. To find my way home. Not a city, or a street , or an island, although there are some I would choose. But closer, more important than those, a path back to me. I did not consciously do it. Lock me away, like my possessions and paintings, those that survived, being held in a warehouse in New Orleans by a friend. It has been just too much, too much to describe. Too much loss, too much gone, too much denied. This little experiment is bringing me back. Back to the joy, the play with a friend, the hope is there, a glimmer again. I have a large wetlands painting, again sent back to a friend.He'll frame it just right.It's going in a show in New Orleans, an honor, which I can't attend. "Unknown Territories" is the name of the exhibit. So aptly named. So look at this cake, this cake with it's abundance and shine. You'll see the glimmer, polished by friends, of an artist, well blessed in spite of it all.Coming back a bit at a time. Coming back we hope to a fullness more potent, a brush more sublime. Maybe you'll catch the scent of a women looking for joy once more.Freshness and light. Luscious creme in paint. Strawberries in glaze. A cake that is sweet. Some days are scented. And that makes me smile.Those boxes have been packed away so so long.