I’ve been planning to revisit a particular show for months! The little and big things of life delayed my fuzzy plans. Poking my head back into the Art Institute’s galleries recently, I was struck by the opening text of this lovely show: “It took millions …
June closed with an explosion of fruit and flowers in the Black Garden. July promises even more.
We were celebrating my parents’ marriage the last time we saw “Sweet Life” with a garden cake, sparkling flutes, joy, and a flashback to their wedding day. We’ve returned to the theme in all of its goodness.
I find that as much as I’m present right there and then, it’s impossible to absorb all of the ways that a moment is fantastic. Is it the sublime that’s indescribable? One moment, we’re sitting in the Black Garden chatting and laughing over coffee and pastries and enjoying the fruit on the platter and the plants. The next, we’re imbibing sugary bubbles and steam!
I didn’t think I’d be that person showing images of the family dog to the nice staff person at the garden center. But here I am! I think that I’m one of those folks who can bring back every phrase in a conversation to our sweet, furry girl. All roads lead back to her.
This time, we were talking about the merits of various fruit trees to decide which ones would join our gardens. Having had success with numerous berries in the Black Garden, I was now exploring more exotic fruits I’d never grown. My one condition: did they have any plants that might produce enough for us to share with our pup?! We had long given up on keeping her at bay. The staff and I giggled and giggled. I left the nursery with delights for the whole family.
Our girl, after all, shares so much with me. When we walk around our neighborhood, she sets the pace, encouraging me to stop here and there to to see the tulips, lilacs, blossoming trees, and of course the great stick ready to come home with us.
I suspect that she’s drawn to these plants like she is to certain humans. They welcome her, they smell nice, and they are beautiful.
As she roots under clover, pressing her paws in a dew-covered field, or pokes her long snout everywhere, she reminds me to stay curious and seek beauty, too.
“Trees and plants always look like the people they live with, somehow.” — Zora Neale Hurston
Our family way of life is usually quite spontaneous. Our plans will have edges that keep us together but everything in between stays loose. Who knows what you’ll see, smell, hear or taste if everything isn’t charted out? Those who accompany us either love it …
Waterways. My residency has been going swimmingly (yes, pun intended) and affords me space to reflect, learn, rest, and make. Like waterways, there’s a confluence in my activity and lack thereof. There’s an emphasis on being still sometimes, flowing as I feel the urge, and …
Spring pasta? Why yes.
April in Chicago is the mixed-messenger. Warm one day, a cold snap the next. Spring rainbows of daffodils, tulips, and hyacinths grace every patch of dirt today only to be dusted with snow tomorrow. It’s less rainy and more hot-then-cold. So what do we eat? Pasta with a tomato sauce lightened by white wine, fresh fennel, squid ink, and delicious shellfish. Not quite a winter stew, not quite a summer seafood boil, but completely a spring delight.
Whether it’s shaped, string, or couscous, we have our fair share of pasta. This one’s a favorite because its sauce comes together in the time that this pasta cooks— 5-10 minutes.
The simple ingredients are elevated by the fresh fennel and wine. The shrimp and tender chunks of crab have that juicy crunch. Want to add another layer of the sea? Squid ink pasta is both stunning and nuanced. Who doesn’t love black food?
Recently, I was fortunate enough to be back in Istanbul after a twenty-five year absence. Some things had changed but, for the most part, it was as stunning as it had ever been. In addition to blue glass amulets to replace my original one broken …
