Blueberry Grape Tart

Puddles. I was looking at this piece again( sorry for the slight glare on the pic), trying to figure out why they hold such appeal for me. These fruit tarts Pierre puts together. I am feeling restless you see. Thinking of my wetlands work, eager to walk them again. Yet every time I confront one of these tarts in the case, it is hard for me to pass it up.Then it hit me just a minute ago. It's puddles you see. The edge of the water. From tide pools in Monterey and Carmel (Check out Steinbeck's Cannery Row description in Chapter Six ) and the Pacific Northwest, to mud puddles in Mississippi, to North Carolina Outer Banks, and dear Chandeleur Island, I have been looking from coast to coast at puddles and splashes of wet. Examining form and marveling at all the bits and pieces that live in just this layer or that. And here we have a little island of them. Granted fruit, and berries on custard and cake. But chef has made me a puddle watcher again, tempting me with juicy tidbits that have to be seen up close.He has included nectars, and custards and bounty in it's own little glaze puddle. Notice, I pick the ones whose glaze runs over, and play with the light on the rim. Funny how the muse works, and how we are drawn to things. Now I can't wait to go back to the case this weekend, to see what puddle awaits. Even in this landlocked, over paved place, I have found a bit of my wetlands. So eager am I, the richness and the slight crunch of the fruit are a sublime heaven to eat and aren't a bad benefit. But maybe this isn't so far off the path as I had previously thought. I love painting tarts, and cakes and treats. and what fun we are having, but now I know a way to bring it up a notch or two, as our Emeril would say. I sent a message to chef to "bring it on" I hope he takes it to heart. We need our adventure. Who would have thought a beautiful tart would serve so well. Hats off to chef again and to all of you who like them. Ah-ha. Took me a few, you probably saw it before me. I hope this makes sense. It's all a part of process. Thank you for liking these so much, you have helped me with an aha moment and brought me one step further.

Frazier

Un Frazier, a special treat, only on weekends. A cathedral of strawberry arches holding up the mousse. Underneath, is almond cake. And there's marzipan on top. I marvel at such things as these. Meant to tempt us, calling out. This one is a Grace Kelly. No need to do much at all. Just exist. For every part was just as it should be. No more no less. The combination, well there's the thing. It is classy, smooth and complex. The little sprinkle of nutmeg, the amount of whipped cream, the angles on the marzipan , and who knew, tender almond cake inside. From the first bite I was in Monaco, or someplace nice and sunny. Each flavor lingered just abit to converse with another. No need to window shop for more. If I had my vote. I'd wake up every Sunday. Stroll down to chef Pierre. He is thinking of us. Knows just what we need. No need to think about it, he has that covered you see. I'll take the Grace Kelly please. Un Frazier indeed! Now if he could do a Cary Grant.....I'd be there Saturday! early, very early.

Cheesecake Trio

I said I was looking for happy and happy was home. Much better is the surprise Movie Night we are doing on Saturday, Esther Williams in Neptune's Daughter. We have even ordered flowered swim caps. Needed a giggle. I see this trio just warming up for a synchronized swim, or a bit of a workout at their water gym. Can you see the swim caps and eagerness? In any case, it brings out my smile. Now we are thinking of shrimp cocktails and tv dinners, so fifties don't you think, to have for our Movie Night food. So Saturday night, wherever you are, tarts or tartless, or just stepping out. Pause just a second for a giggle or two, we'll be in the dark with flowered caps on our heads watching dear Esther go through her strokes. Watching a colorful calvacade, an aqua ballet or two. Who knows we might even have to dance along....see giggles enough for all. Yep, just for today, a little bit of happy was home. A memory will be built or two. A little pause for silliness to shake away the cares. I think the tarts have a sense of that. They seem like an aqua trio. A bit of a smile and a splash. So whatever your plans, this Saturday night I'm with Esther in the pool. Ah the mind of an artist has many a muse, but that's the clue to it all. Keeping it tickled with delight. Letting brush free to swim along side.

Two Plus Two

In search of happy and balance...I just have word of a wedding coming up. Was looking for something fun and good today. And this news just came. Hoorah! How lovely for them and her little one too, to become a family. Blending all that came before to make now and after. A lovely choice point, a pivot in time. How exciting and how much stronger they can be. Two plus two sometimes makes four, but in this case, it makes so much more. A romantic at heart, I look at this piece and pretend the red is for love that binds two people and prompts them to say, it's so much better with you than without you. Let's do it together in our own unique ways, but at the end of the day we come home. To gather ourselves, replenish , renew and just be. Here in the space we make. So I wish them fullness, riches of heart, and a pastry or two. So happy and balanced when two hearts find a home. I wish the same for all of you.

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!