Sickness

I once worked at this horrid little outfit that has great contacts, so I stayed on because the work I made was of good quality and I got a steady paycheck. But the other employees were (and probably are still) dreadful, because they are a small group of people who suffer from various forms of mental illnesses and psychological problems. I would later learn that these social clusters are more common than I realized, because people with mental disorders typically group together for comfort. That left me the "odd man out", because I do not have those ailments. Growing up as I did around a family with a range of mental problems and addictions, I can navigate rocky waters much better than your average gal. Unfortunately, my ease passes for semblance among the mentally ill. I am oft confused for one of the same. Though this is not the case, have you ever tried arguing with a mental patient? It is a lesson in futility.

"Ohhh....I don't feel so good...

I do get sick, though it is of the physical variety. It causes the mentally ill in my family great consternation because if I am unwell, they do not get the care from me that they need. So, my early life was punctuated by useless doctor visits fueled by neuroses and insecurity. I took them for what they were and left it at that. After all, I was a child who needed care, and my pediatrician was a sane, educated, and intuitive man of religious faith (a rare and gentle person, indeed), so it wasn't that much of a chore. He always made me feel better :)  (Bless you always Dr. Dreyer, for your kind attention and loving care.) He taught me that there is a great art to healing. All the great healers I have met have a natural empathy so heightened that it passes for supernatural to the unwell. He saw me clearly, and in that recognition I thrived. I did not know him personally, but we knew each other punctuated by small, sporadic contact. Turns out, I also attract gifted people to me, too.

So I attract co-workers like moths to a flame, and they talk to me about whatever they need to at the time, regardless of my state of being. I'll write more about my experiences in these settings (which are funny as well as scary), because I learned once and for all that I cannot even temporarily clothe myself in their garments, even if it is to tend to them. It's too out of context. The mentally ill need structure, routine, and professionals who concentrate just on them—not my warm, beaming light in some impersonal 9-5 office setting. Yet here we are, so what is someone with my workload and responsibilities to do? I work through it (and them) with them. It's confusing and it doesn't work well at all, but as a women who has tended to her flock regardless of location (my family can bug out on me at any time), I can do it on the cuff, no matter where I am or what the circumstances are.

My skills in this regard do not go unnoticed. I become a source of reliable information very quickly, especially under the frightened gaze of a paranoid neurotic who struggles to contain me in their midst. "Who is she?! Why should I believe her? But...she's so right about so many things..." Because of this duality, I get one reaction to my face and another behind my back. Ah, the duplicity of the mentally unstable. How their minds must turn on them so! You can imagine the encounters I have in a confined space like a 9-5 office, where I am subject to the vagaries of someone's ravaged mind. Tortured souls and expression go hand in glove because work and therapy are confused. It's often mistaken for art by the sufferer, so creative industries have a fair share of hangers-on mixed in with the deluded.

"...but I can still make art."

It was in this regard that a part-time production editor (someone who proofreads), asked me about my prolific outpourings, in the form of a question that belayed her jumbled mind. "Is it compulsive?" Because she is educated, her question came out deeply envious and curious at the same time, rife with agendas. What is this? Who are you? I went with it as I know how to do, and asked her in return "Well, do writers write every day?" appealing to her conceit as a literary person. I had to lead her gently to it, because a wrong turn in this exchange will cause an eruption that I cannot afford while on deadline. It has to be done quickly and masterfully but mostly fast. "Well, some do," she replied in a pseudo-reflective, airily pretentious and falsely light-hearted way. OK, good, she's matching my tone in a snarky ironic way. Childish, but workable. Mental illness is not the sole domain of the stupid and ignorant, like some shitty movie-of-the-week would suggest. In this moment, I am the "parent" and she is the "child" because she doesn't like me but she's also scared of me. I know how that feels, coming from an abusive household. She's petty, but she's beneath me in terms of the work and her abilities are handicapped by her mind. No problem. I got this, which I have to, because there's no one else to help me with it. They don't know.

"It's not compulsive for me. I make art every day because I'm an artist." I stopped drawing, looking steadily and carefully at her in the eye, so she knows that my gaze can take her in to see right through her, any time I choose. "Oh", then she turned around and walked to gossip with the rest of the office, because I heard her stop at the reception desk to spread my words. At the time some were trying to frame me as compulsive, because I once told a story about my prodigious output. It's a heavy-handed way of diffusing a supposed threat. I would have drawn on the walls as a kid if paper wasn't available to me—so great is my gift that nothing can stop it. Now it was deliberately misconstrued by some and seen as a challenge to others. Another sick co-worker tiredly worked an admin gig because the severity of her mental illnesses did not allow her to be disciplined enough to make a living as an artist. Out of anger she played petty games throughout the day to distract herself and anyone who caught her envy. I caught hers hard naturally, so most of her bad static focused on me, like the diamond I was in their midst. They poured over my words like a mystic scrutinizes runes, something that still disconcerts me when I encounter it. "What does that mean?" I can see something thinking. How lost their despair is to me, their hatred, their petty power struggles riding the broken contours of their minds.

I learned to get sick on my own and keep it to myself, because the weight of an actual illness is more than a sick mind can bear. My life and my body becomes more than they can take, and their inquiries do nothing to alleviate their symptoms or mine. It has taught me much in the process. If I do take ill, friends and readers, I will get better, until that final hour when I can no longer be of service to you. Trust in me that I have found great healers as is my way. You should because you know that I do not lie. This woman has taken care of herself for a very long time. After all, how well do I take care of all of you? Remember, most pains of the body are temporary. My allergies will pass with the seasons, along with the side effects from allergy medicines, but those next to you may suffer for a lifetime. If I'm down, I will get back up, and when I do, there will be art here for you. Then, you may take what you need. God bless.

fluffy white clouds are the best

prepping for stuffed apricot french toast

The level of preserves in the apricot jar in my fridge continued its downward trajectory. I knew I was tapping into its full potential as a food stuff. I was stretching it to the max by adapting it to suit my tastes. After the french toast glaze turned out successfully, I went with it as a breakfast again, this time refashioning the classic dish into a lighter stuffed version: no heavy cream cheese in the middle for me. 

Cloyingly overly rich creaminess tends to stick to the back of my throat in an unpleasant manner, like a doggie trying to eat too big a glob of peanut butter: It's a "Gah! I'm choking!" feeling in a moment of panic, and then relief after the foodstuffs are swallowed successfully, like I just crossed a raging Amazon river in spring time on a small, flimsy wood raft: "I almost died and now I'm still alive!" It's a bit much.

It's a really easy dish to make: a sandwich filled with apricot jam and butter soaks in an egg and milk bath (or half and half or cream) that's been flavored with cinnamon and sweetener, and then fried in butter. Remember that brown sugar glaze for grapefruit brulee? Still sans maple syrup, I made another small batch out of melted butter, cinnamon, and brown sugar for a syrup topping. It went quick. 

Enjoy your today.

pretty little pink clouds at sunset make me happy

Brûléed grapefruit

While making this simple brown sugar syrup as a topping for yet another take on the classic french toast, I naturally thought about other uses, and why not? The simple satisfying sweetness of it—brown sugar, butter, cinnamon, and nutmeg—is perfection. The mind goes there anyway.

Applying it as a melted mixture atop a grapefruit and broiling it produces a caramelized fruit that makes an elegant dessert. The tartness of it with the familiarity of a brûlée makes it surprising and comforting. Like the best of new experiences, it was totally different and exactly what you would expect it to be, without detracting from it at all.  

That's hope.

cucumber and onion salad with dill

sun comes in the afternoon

a new day breaks

"Fall is coming!" and happily, too. Count this Northern girl glad. You may know (or not) that Autumn is my favorite season, because I've written about it before. Actually, each season in the Northeast is a revelation that gives us something to look forward to, but that's a story for another day.

Chicken with butternut squash

Chicken breast in the fridge needed cooking, and since squash is now delightfully in season (early), I also had a small butternut squash cooling in my crisper. The season is running ahead this year because of warmer temps and lots of rain, so typically autumnal vegetables are in stores right now at their peak.

I never cubed a squash before because I typically roast them in an oven, but since it's the height of summer heat, oven cooking is out. I found that partially cooking the squash in a microwave for about 10 minutes softened it enough that I could cut away the peel with some elbow grease. I read online about peeling a fresh squash, but that seemed like a pipe dream with a vegetable as hard and tough as this.

After that prep chore, the ingredients basically combined themselves in a pan with seasonings: diced onions sauteed in oil with thyme and rosemary, seasoned with salt and pepper (you should always season your food) then I tossed in the cubed chicken and squash for the finish. Wonderfully delicious! It was a taste revelation for me, a brand new experience created because of the combination.

Wish you were here....

French toast with apricot sauce

The Apricot Adventures continue. Breakfast was next for my lovely jar of apricot preserves. I made a very simple glaze for this french toast dish, in lieu of the traditional maple syrup topping. 

It's basically apricot preserves (or any jelly you have on hand) melted in a small saucepan with water, cinnamon, and nutmeg. So quick, so easy, and a great alternative on those mornings when the maple syrup runs out on your big pancake breakfast. Crisis averted!

Chicken and broccoli in apricot glaze

Just so you know, this is not solely a "foodie" blog, so if I don't regurgitate recipes for you, now you now know why. It's about the art of living well, and since we eat almost every day, the art of cooking features prominently in any life that's well lived. 

I grew up cooking because I had an interest in it, and then very quickly I had to know how if I wanted to eat certain foods, so I've been cooking my entire life, but I am definitely not a chef. R.I.S.D.* had a culinary division when I attended that did cafeteria service as part of their curriculum, but since I lived off campus, I have no idea what it was like. Suffice to say, Providence is a Johnson and Wales kind of town, known for its culinary and hospitality programs, so R.I.S.D. pretty quickly focused back on art and design, which is what we do best. *Rhode Island School of Design

But art forms blend into each other, syncing together, forming connections, and creating harmony. Artists tend to approach life in a critical manner, as is taught to us, but also with enjoyment—a brand new day is a canvas to be formed, a page to be written, a song to be composed, an opportunity to make each meal time as good as it can be. That's not to say I don't get tired and let someone else do the cooking occasionally, but since I can do it with such ease and fluency, I do it.

I'm a kitchen cook, meaning I take a look at what I have in the pantry, fridge, or freezer, and I combine the available ingredients together into a hopefully harmonious and tasty blend. Not only is it more affordable and healthier for me, I actually make better food than a lot of restaurants, though I find that happens mostly when I forage outside of our fair Gotham. We are blessed with a wealth of talent in our communities, and I am rarely disappointed by the products I find, so that is a constant joy. I take pleasure selecting produce, smelling bread, testing for freshness, and perusing items on grocery store shelves, because each store is different.

I look at food labels for many things: caloric content, the amount of chemicals and preservatives, the types of ingredients (the less the better, by the way) and where it's from, because not only do I support local producers, I like to reduce the damage I do to our environment simply because I want say, exotic pickles from Japan. It's not that I don't use imported items when they're called for, it's just I do not think I am the Queen of Siam who needs rare and expensive delicacies because I am some pampered princess. It reeks of entitlement, and I get my hands dirty whenever I can. This thought process becomes part of the making, and that's something every artist understands.

Because I cook in this way, there are no "recipes" for me, because I do not buy based on what someone tells me to do. It's based on season, availability, and what I want to eat. It's about what I want do to with my food, and I encourage you delve deeper into meal times. There's many an epiphany to be gained in such knowledge. In this case, I had in my fridge: chicken breast, fresh broccoli, onions, and I wanted to make a sauce from a lovely jar of apricot preserves. The preserves served as the basis for many a sauce that week, which I'll post for you as the days unfold. It became the inspiration for my dishes.

Rather than slavishly devoted to a network, show, or cookbook, what would you make with what you have on hand? Many a savvy wife and crafty mother does what I do every day, several times day, for her entire life, with no pay and no applause. It's hard work, but like any drudgery, women have turned it into an art form. Take pleasure in what you have, and make it yours. I've provided one of the recipes below as a basis that approximates what I use as guides, but in the end, it's all about me. What do you bring to the table?

http://recipes.sparkpeople.com/recipe-detail.asp?recipe=10454

this is the way the wind blows

Cucumbers in season

Because cucumbers are rampantly in season, and that growing season has been good for them, they are everywhere and they are cheap. For this omelet with leftover brown rice and fresh broccoli, cucumbers served as a crisp counterpoint to what could have been just another somewhat mushy and tasty healthy breakfast. Dieting has become a bad word, and healthy food yet another obsession of ours that various big Agri-Businesses can manipulate ("lite", low fat, low carb, or whatever they're trying to sell you based on your issues). 

So let me state this clearly, and for the record: I eat "clean", as it's called in training, because it helps my body perform it's best, but I do not deprive myself in some game of show that's about control. I veer far away from Eating Disorder land, and if you find yourself playing games with your food, you could be drifting close to those shores. It's easy to do, what with all the crazy mixed messages we get. Be beautiful (and thin), be healthy (but strong), be a hard worker (and be fun!!). A lesser mind could get confused with all that marketing swirling around. Maybe if we worked jobs we liked, expensive Disney-fied vacations wouldn't be the goal, and maybe if we ate reasonably, in tune with our body's messages, we wouldn't gorge on fast foods, then repent with a low carb facsimile of the same junk foods.

I eat because I am hungry and because I am, I actually look forward to my meals. I'm also an artist, so I can also cook whatever I want, with whatever food I have on hand, which makes it enjoyable, too. But that doesn't mean I don't stray from a strict training regime, like any other person. This past week I've been home sick and I didn't eat well for several days, so I am particularly ravenous, yet also cautious, with a funny tummy that's recovering. So if you see me around town grabbing a burger, that's because this American girl is not only hungry, she watches what she eats with love and care, which means I can eat what I'm currently having. It's simply a matter of effort through the keeping of a food diary and regular exercise, something that I suggest periodically: http://www.livestrong.com/thedailyplate/. Why not try something new? Treat yourself with the care you deserve.

sidewalk squash blossoms

eat, drink, and be fed

gathering clouds advent a storm

half asleep and under control

my hometown, my heart

Summer in Prospect Park

one more day is a gift

threshold

the setting sun

BarkAid!

I want to do everything all the time. I want to squeeze the juice out of every day, because life is such a precious gift. I wanted to be published by age 30, win many awards, and be in business for myself at the same time I ran a household with dogs and kids while I helped to save the world. What? Was that a lot to do? Huh. This super hero over commits, and I always will. Having a large to-do list is one of the greatest pleasures about an active life, but friends, I do get tired and occasionally sick. Plus, there's just so much work to do! 

I wanted so much to attend BarkAid and get a haircut at the same time (women, the original "multitaskers"). Early yesterday I realized that I can't go. I'm pushing a really big project out the door and I can't afford to take a day off while the momentum is there. Nonetheless, I really support what they're doing. I hope everyone who joins in with this special event has a great time, while delivering a very important message to us about our furry friends. Domesticated animals must have our help, because they rely on us for their survival. Let's not let them down. Power to the puppy!

http://www.barkaid.org/

http://www.animalhavenshelter.org/site/PageServer 

http://lomantinithesalon.wordpress.com/2011/07/24/welcome/ 

seasonal red peppers

Peppers are in season, of many varieties and colors. These bright red ones looked so fresh and crisp, I couldn't resist. Look at that color! Naturally rich and vibrant, they form a palette worthy of any artist who seeks inspiration.

fried eggs in pepper rings

I see many different styles of egg cups making the food blog rounds, including vegetable ones. It's a great way to get another serving of fruit and/or vegetables into your morning breakfast. More ideas! My fridge was full of eggs and peppers....why not give it a go?

pepper egg ring with whole wheat bread

I used extra large sized eggs, which didn't quite fit within my pepper rings. The egg whites runneth over and under, but they still tasted glorious. By the time the eggs cook, the peppers have already softened and caramelized along their edges. Yesterday I saw a picture of baked eggs in avocado. Stay tuned.

Here I Am!

I'm here http://pinterest.com/mariedoucette/
here https://twitter.com/mariedoucette  
and here http://designrelated.com/MarieDoucette.

Come find me!

 cloudscape