#uncoffeed...

Art is all about emotion - people crave emotional rides. I have more feelings than I need, but bottling them for sale challenges me.  I have to translate the emotions first, and then package them in some identifiable format, which is the part that's hardest for me to understand. I understand soup. Soup is an art form. Quality comes at base from the raw ingredients. The recipe documents the chef's labor-intensive process of finding balance between individual flavors and textures (yes, there is work in soup.) Like any other art, the ultimate reward is finding something that's good for the artist and also for the audience. Those lucky few in the chef's inner circle get to taste the soup and get excited: OMG. This is the best soup ever. You could sell this.  My taste is pretty eclectic; I try to create more of what I love so I can love more of it. If I find someone who loves what I do enough to pay for it, that shared love is more reward than money. Having m...

Before you can accept people for who they are and what they have to offer you have to accept yourself and what you can offer to yourself. It can be a lonely place to start, but it's absolutely necessary.  If someone matters to you, tell them. They may ask how or why; you don't have to answer.  You can answer with, "I don't know."  Our culture tends to place an inordinate amount of value on romantic social relationships, pretty frosted decorations, when what we need is the nutritious meal. There are so many ways that people matter to us, some seemingly unimportant. They're very important. Eventually you may tell yourself why these people matter to you, and maybe you can share with them. Tell the people that matter to you:  You are not frosting. For yourself:  maybe you can't manage a full nutritious meal right now. Start with what you have. You probably have some fat in the refrigerator, flour in the cupboard (and you can't remember ho...

I wasn't gonna blog today, but I have to explain to you how I live my life, and why Annandale may actually be perfect for me. I feed my landlords' cats when they are away, and they pay me for this. It's fair, because I have to commit to showing up twice a day (whereas were I a horn player, I'd just noncommittally show up, or not.) So the landlord paid me today, and I've had biryani on my mind, so I thought I'd go get some. There's a local restaurant called Tandoori Nights that makes amazing home-cooking-quality Nepalese/Indian cuisine. I usually go there when the sun is still shining. Ah, but tonight there was club lighting and a police officer out front.  It could be argued that this was a warning sign, and that I should go elsewhere. If you've met me, you know I'm oblivious - warning-sign blind. "Hello, ma'am," he nodded as he let me pass. I sat at the bar and waited for someone to realise they should speak to me. I asked...