Restaurant review!

Sichuan Chilli.

We LOVE Chinese food! I know, who doesn’t, right? :)

Its soul food! All that fresh basil and chilli and garlic tossed into a smoking hot wok! Umm..umm..umm…what’s not to like I ask you?

And do you know what’s even better? Discovering a new restaurant, a really really good one, a stone’s throw away from where you live. I am thinking easy take out nights. Yes? ;)

0205161152a

Hot pepper pork

0205161150

Sichuan beef

0205161152

Broccoli in garlic sauce

Of course we ordered the ones with the stars next to them. The spicier the better. But, despite the number of stars, the food really wasn’t very spicy. It WAS very flavourful, however (not ‘fishy’ at all. Being a vegetarian, that can be a bit of an issue). And piping hot! An excellent excellent remedy for a cold cold afternoon.

 

 

Rabbity

Spring. Soon. Dare one hope?

I cannot wait to throw open the windows and let the wildness in.

To breathe in the mud, the scent

of things growing under moss and stone,

uncurling, stretching, reaching,

reaching for the sun and sky.

rabbit 004

rabbit 001

rabbit 009

Oh to be Alice!

Through the boulder…wisely.

0130161054a

Acrylics on Canvas, 16″ x 20″

I had a dream. Or maybe I glimpsed something out of the corner of my eye somewhere…
I had this vision of a big rich brown boulder like thing with a background of vibrant yellow tones jumping off the canvas. But alas, for all my enthusiasm, the painting didn’t even come close to what I had envisioned. No amount of scraping and slathering would do it.

And so, I wisely decided to follow the dictates of the canvas.

I am glad I did.

If you like the way you look that much…

…Oh baby you should go and love yourself… ~ Biebs

I do love that song!

0126161437

I was trying so hard with the above painting. Maybe a little too hard? And for some one who loves happy accidents in paintings more than well placed paint, it just wasn’t (g)jelling! It was losing all it’s spontaneity. And we simply can’t have that, can we?

So! I squeezed out a whole bunch of white paint onto my fingers and went to town with it. And by then, it was quite, quite dark in the room too. I could barely see what I was doing which really turned out to be a lot of fun. Here I was squeezing God knows what colour (I was hoping it was what I had in mind) onto my fingers and just smearing it onto the canvas. The energy packed in those 15 – 20 minutes was out-the-wazoo!

AND I am happy with the result too! HA!

 

0128160844

Acrylics on Canvas 16″ x 20″

Sun bathing.

P1020148P1020143

How we all turn to the sun.

For light, and warmth,

and all that is good in this world.

Forehead on the glass,

how we wait for it to slide

belly deep, and climb

shoulder high,

riding the length of our souls.

Cross roads

0125161043

Cross roads.

All these choices we make. Every hour of every day.

Crisscrossing lines of what ifs and shouldas and that single overlying golden throb of a Yes!

Despite my woozy, perhaps non-existent would be the right word, sense of creativity lately, I said yes to painting because I needed, no, I wanted to share something at our monthly meeting of the Mixed Media Mavens.

Painting this one felt a little clinical. I felt the energy but there was no accompanying crackling fizz of an undercurrent. The one that has me shaking sometimes.

But still, I painted. And that matters. A lot.

White Noise

1005151254~2

White Noise, Acrylics on Canvas, 12″ x 12″

This is an older painting that I struggled with. Quite a bit.

None of the things I tried fit right. Layers and layers to coax it into something meaningful.

Some paintings are like that. Stubborn. They need a lot of love and work. But in the end, they do come around. They might not be just so but they are enough and then some.

Serenade

0910151419~2

Serenade, Acrylics on Canvas, 24″ x ¬†24″

I caught her by the shoulder.

Amidst big circles of orange and green and purple and what seemed like the beginnings of a sunset on the canvas.

The black palette-knifed slashes suggested darkened woods and that gentle, spun timelessness that is the essence of dusk, and oftentimes, dawn.

And amidst all that shadow and green grass, there she was. First her right shoulder and arm, and then her knees, sweetly folded.

I painted her body and then her face resting against the tree trunk. Blissfully unaware of the blazing chaos that is a sunset, lost in her own reverie.

I ¬†imagined the sun blazing and trembling and threatening to set fire to the world at this blatant disregard for his performance. But then, who’s to say? Perhaps, he glimpsed the soft curve of her cheek and the sweetness, like dew drops, on her eyelids, and with one last sweet caress, descended into his molten lair.

Perhaps….

Who’s to say….?

0910151419

Detail from the painting.

 

 

 

The idea of an idea.

I like ideas.

I love ideas.

So often, ideas, as they rise and froth and spill, saturating every nerve, one’s very core with their blood, with their dreams and their promises are better than their actuality.

They make one tingle and gush and run around a bit in exquisite frenzy.

Ideas.

Dreams on the verge.

As fragile and luminous as a hand blown glass shot through with skeins of colour. Just as unique.

A thrilling what if and will be.

Ideas.

They make my world go round.