The soles of my feet may never gather dust of exotic lands, but my tastebuds yearn for knowledge of the world. The heavy scents, the novel spices, the untried combinations which have sustained cultures for centuries- and longer. Knowing my passion for food and my affinity for dabbling in the kitchen, my family purchased a tagine for my birthday.
It is large, sensuous, mysterious- and beckoning.
I poured through a tome of VERY intimidating recipes with exotic ingredients I couldn’t wait to source. I ventured into a nearby ethnic grocery store and purchased bottles of orange water and rose water. I returned to the store again the following day and purchased saffron and chicken. I am sure the fellow shoppers and store employees secretly stifled giggles at the white lady buying ingredients she couldn’t possibly know how to use. Or worse…
I realized a couple days later that I should have held more consideration for their culture. I had entered their space dressed in shorts and a tank top without any thought. I don’t know what divine intervention nudged me to the realization, but I genuinely regretted not dressing for the occasion. As an American, and probably more accurately, as a white American, I don’t often consider the implications or messages my attire may convey.
Going forward, I will certainly be more mindful when I shop there. I am so grateful to live in a country where I have the opportunity to experience these tiny pockets of exposure. While I know I will always be the bumbling tourist, I still treasure the illusion of eating like the worldly traveler.
I have cooked in my tagine once- a velvety, heavenly Apricot Chicken. (Recipe courtesy The Spruce Eats.) And as my daughter drives home for her first long weekend back from campus, I am preparing the meal for her. Coming home is a celebration- and a celebration demands a meal.
Rustic Sourdough with Sweet Potato, Apricots, and Almonds
This month I find myself searching for direction. Complacency was easy for so long. I endeavor to reject complacency and the struggle to maintain focus ensues. Like a heatwave over hot asphalt, the vision appears to waver and shift and vanish. What did I see just down the way? I chastise myself for not having a more solid plan, a map to a destination. Oh hell, how about just a destination? But then I soothe myself with platitudes like, “It’s not the destination, it’s the journey.” “Rome wasn’t built in a day.”
Am I making excuses? Or is my organic approach and faith in the journey reasonable? I don’t have the answers to these questions. So, I am going to tell myself to “Put your Big Girl panties on and get back to work!” and for now, that work is continuing to explore and develop my artistic expression. Only through persistence and honesty can I continue to hone my own happiness and well-being. At the end of the day, perhaps this is the most worthwhile endeavor.
Regarding those daily exercises- I publish blog posts only a couple times a month. But I post my art almost daily on Instagram. You can follow me using the Instagram icon at the bottom of the page.
This is a throwback from two years ago, entitled “A Little Night Music”. The thumbnail image at the top of the page is from my watercolor sketchbook this month. You can see it and others on my Instagram feed.
“Hello, my name is Renee and I am an online-learning junkie.”
I guess my addiction dates back before YouTube and Vimeo to a time when casette tapes ruled the airwaves. Casette tapes gave way to DVDs, Today I hoard lists of web addresses and their corresponding usernames and passwords. Keep your white machines. All I need is the soothing sounds of a friendly voice explaining how and why.
Like the cassettes and DVDs, many of the classes have never been viewed. Others have been watched repeatedly. And a couple have actually changed my life. They possess the intrinsic promise that I can accomplish whatever I want, and more than ever, I am mustering the courage to believe them.
I have two streaming-gurus du jour at the moment- Bonnie Christine and Noom, yes the app designed to help us lose weight and eat healthy. Oddly, I am discovering that they compliment each other nicely and offer practical wisdom about taking charge of my life. Both emphasize the power of incremental progress. Do ONE thing that moves me toward my goal everyday and I will eventually get there. For my life goals that one thing may be as little as a sketch or as monumental as sending out a portfolio. For my health it may be cutting sugar by half or challenging myself to eat green at every meal.
Some days one thing turns into several things. Some days I feel satisfied that I am going somewhere. Other days I feel as though I am plodding in place. And other days I find myself face down in the proverbial dirt. But I remind myself that stumbling is falling forward and forward is the key!
Last week I challenged myself to create a design for an online challenge with a deadline less than 48 hours away. I put in late hours and early hours to complete it and I felt good about myself and the work. But when the day to vote arrived, my entry was nowhere to be seen. So disappointed. But the single task of entering the contest prompted me to begin work on a Spoonflower site, provided valuable technical instruction, and reminded me to be persistent.
This is one version of the pattern I designed for the online challenge. I love it on fabric!
The rains have slowed and the number of sunny days here in Tulsa is on the rise. This is the honeymoon period here- the days when all is well in the outdoor world and the day’s woes can be alleviated with a step out the back door. The temperatures fluctuate between 90 and 70- depending on the time and the day. It won’t be long and the mercury will rise- residing well above 85- even at night. It is not unusual for the days to linger near the triple digit mark well after dark. But the heat is not what gets me. Nope, I am a little like the lizards who seem to like it. The full emergence of mosquitoes will soon dramatically impact my zen-filled moments in the sun. Until then…
These past few weeks we have been scurrying about the garden and yard, pulling weeds, planting, sowing seeds, watering new sod, repairing sprinklers. And we have finally arrived at that golden hour when we crack open a cold one and take a long satisfied look our efforts. The sound of water pouring into the reservoir of the newly acquired water feature, surrounded by tranquil ferns and lacy Japanese maples amid a sea of smooth river rocks accompanies the songs and calls of the company of birds holding court in the treetops.
I make a silent vow that THIS season will be better. Hours of labor have yielded an immaculate oasis, and this is the year that I will not allow nature’s tenacity to get the best of me! I will monitor the gardens for pests. I will maintain a daily ritual of patrolling the raised beds to prune, weed, train vines, and eliminate unwanted insects. (Are you laughing yet? Surely, this is the garden hobbyist’s equivalent to a New Year’s Resolution.)
These daily tasks provide respite from computers, dishes, laundry, and whatever monkeys might be parading through my head. Often I am rewarded with the sight of a new bird, which I must immediately identify, or the sighting of a small shy ringneck snake, and often I marvel at the beauty of the butterflies and moths. Sometimes I discover a tiny tree frog clinging to a leaf or witness a small lizard dart in and out of sight. This year, the lizards seem to have multiplied in numbers and their cautious sprints across the rocky terrain thrill me.
Gardening is a journey and I hope to encounter a few fellow travelers. Do you garden? What motivates you to turn the soil? How long do keep your annual promise to be a more diligent gardener? How long do you think I can keep mine? (Hint: not long.)
If you are of my generation, you grew up loving Great Danes- whether you knew it or not. Astro from the Jetsons, Marmaduke, and the most famous of all… Scooby Doo. Loyal, goofy, and downright lovable- and when they showed up, so did the weekend! Remember the days of watching cartoons on the NETWORK’S schedule? Sitting cross-legged in pajamas on the pile carpet with a bowl of sugar cereal, Saturday morning cartoons were a ritual to be revered- not a mind-numbing perpetual loop forming the white noise of one’s day.
I had my very own Great Dane to caper with, well, my grandparents had one. I gifted my grandpa a Great Dane puppy one year for his birthday. The puppy I presented was nearly as big as me. He answered to the name of Tiny, and proved to be a fierce protector and a great friend. He grew quickly- the coffee table remained the same size! As did the recliner and the sofa.
Gate Keeper is an homage to Tiny and my memories of my grandparent’s home. The Sweetgum Maple in the backyard dropped a barrage of the pointy weapons each season. The yellow speckled Aucuba shrubs lined the front porch, and the Honeysuckle vine reminds me of the year the red wasp stung me while trimming it off the fence line.
Like memories, it is an assemblage of a few details- details that are disjointed and perhaps even anachronistic. But memories don’t follow rules- they warp over time, they blend and smudge, some fade out, and others take on a surrealistic definition.
Last year I took the time to scan all the old photographs from my grandparent’s home. Years before, I had taken on the task of “organizing” them; placing stacks in business envelopes with a subject and date written on the outside. I took so much joy in discovering details and remembering places, stories, moments. I found so many fantastic photographs of Tiny- as a puppy, as a young dog, and as a guardian of the property. This is the photograph that inspired the Gate Keeper. Seeing his lovable mug hanging over the warning signs makes me smile. If he didn’t know you, he would probably let you in- but he wouldn’t let you out!
Part of my process while creating these dog inspired collages is creating my own infinitely repeating patterns, such as this one featuring the Sweet Gum Maple. You can see it in the background up above.
Find me on Instagram to get more eye candy in your week! Click on the Instagram icon at the top of this page and follow me. You can also find me on Society6, just search Sparrowshine Designs. I can’t wait to see you there!
Don Draper’s got nothing on COVID19! Madmen may have inspired me to buy a few mixology books while dreaming of effortless cocktails and stylish heels, but COVID19 has spurred me to dust off the cocktail shaker read up on the distinction between shaken and stirred. I know I am not alone in this liqueur infused fantasy of elegant drinks to celebrate the dusky hour of each passing day. Recently my daughter showed me a trending video snippet on TikTok featuring a mother and daughter clad in swimsuits and leopard print heading out to their patio for their “54th” consecutive happy hour. The mother carried the revered chrome cocktail shaker and performed a little dance for the camera. When hours of the day have been rendered meaningless and one day merges quietly into the next, we need to find ways to maintain the sanctity of time and the rhythm of life. These quiet happy hours do more than just tick off days on the calendar. The drinks once relegated to special occasions and social gatherings offer the promise of glamor and indulgence in a time that offers little incentive for ditching our pajamas. Unlike Betty and Don, when my husband and I wrap our fingers around a gin and tonic or a simple gimlet (drinks that require minimal ingredients) we wear the day’s grime in our disheveled sweats and t-shirts. And more often than not, those gin and tonics look suspiciously like a can of craft beer.
Cheers! Here’s to you and social distancing. Your drink looks mighty fine on Zoom, and your flip-flops are the perfect choice for the occasion!
When not gardening or shaking cocktails, I have been learning to create vector based repeating patterns. This pattern is an ode to my favorite cocktail- the feisty mojito.
