Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Posts Tagged ‘color’

IMG_7045

Last year I picked corn—like in a corn field—for the first time. It was one of the most exquisitely peaceful experiences I’ve ever had. The field was several yards off a quiet road; no one else was around; the stalks towered and rustled over little me; and I’ve never seen Children of the Corn. All factored into a delicious, unscary sense of being enveloped, especially that last one.

Usually when harvesting I take in the beauty inherent in lush LIFE growing all around—the intense colors and weight of fruits and vegetables, full of water and sunshine, right at the peak of their lives. This year, quite unexpectedly, I noticed the beauty in the other side of the season, in the hints of autumn brushing dustily by, even in the heat of the sun.

In Japanese culture, it’s believed there is beauty not just in fullest life, but also in impermanence and decay. In the U.S., this concept confuses us and tends to make us a little jumpy. What do we do when a flower in a vase begins to wilt? We throw it away; we don’t want to see it once the wheel turns. I’m no different. But I want to learn to appreciate it at every phase.

Oddly enough, I found corn just as beautiful in its dropped and drying starkness as I did green and growing. And I edited in black and white for everything I shot, whether alive or dead, to keep from being distracted by color.

I do love a paradox, love disturbing juxtapositions. Maybe I can grow to love a wilting flower, too.

So. Here is summer—waxing and waning.

IMG_7044

IMG_7043

IMG_7046

IMG_7050bw

IMG_7049bw

Advertisements

Read Full Post »

Today was 60 degrees, preposterously warm for this time of year, but grey as the inside of your months-forgotten outdoor Weber. And rainy. And clammy. Prescription: COLOR.

My favorite way to enjoy color is by making up a batch of marzipan and turning it into silly things. Then I get to give away what I make.

When I tell people I make marzipan, they usually ask if I make fruit, and I say no. I figure everyone makes fruit, and I really try not to be ordinary with whatever I do. Maybe I’ll fall on my face—and Lord knows I have—but at least I won’t be unoriginal.

I use the marzipan recipe from The Joy of Cooking, which calls for almonds and a cooked syrup made with an obscene amount of sugar. Despite its credentials, it’s not vile, and it’s not so hard that you could break a window with it, the way most store bought marzipan is. It’s tender, delicate, and tastes only of almond.

But if you just want to play, you can buy it. Odense is good. Then get some gel paste from a baking supply store (even crafts stores might have it) in a few colors, clean off your kitchen table, and proceed to goof off.

Here are some shots of my favorite kind of play dough—marzipan. Some are on the oooh yum page; others aren’t. Either way, enjoy the kaleidoscope!

We’ll start with an apple blossom.

Bees for a party.

Lop-eared bunny for Third Avenue Chocolates.

Flip flops are very popular. People order them no matter what season it is.

I made dozens of these little cutie pies for my sister's wedding reception. Her fiance proposed at Disney World, outside the reptile house at Animal Kingdom.

They also requested a 3.25 pound Komodo Dragon. Clearly romance knows no bounds.

Bluebirds.

Swallowtails. Way labor intensive.

The 'icing' on this mini cupcake looks chocolate, but it's more marzipan colored with brown gel paste. The gold glitter sprinkled on top is edible.

Tropical sea star, oyster with pearl, and bittersweet chocolate dipping sauce.

Not just for breakfast anymore--100% marzipan for a friend who loves waffles.

Mittens at Christmas.

 

Read Full Post »