Water’s Gate

January 29, 2015January 30, 2015 ~ humoringthegoddess ~ 4 Comments

Now Watergate does not bother me..
Does your conscience bother you?
Tell the truth…

…..Sweet Home Alabama, Lynyrd Skynyrd, 1974

I must admit that about the time Watergate came along I was working my first job as a linofilm typist, and politics did not really concern me overmuch. Today’s generation looks back fondly at Watergate just as they do the Battle of Gettysburg or the Boston Tea Party. Just another history lesson.

The suffix -gate derives from the Watergate scandal in the early 1970s, which resulted in the resignation of U.S. President Richard Nixon. The scandal was named after the Watergate complex in Washington D.C. What I find really funny, though, is that the “gate” part started a whole slew of scandalous escapades. “Gates” abound everywhere.

There are Arts and Entertainment gates:

* Closetgate (2006); controversy after the TV show South Park aired a parody of Scientology

* Nipplegate (also known as Boobgate) (2004); Janet Jackson’s famous “wardrobe malfunction” during half time of Super Bowl XXXVII

There are Politic gates:

* Billygate (1980); Then President Jimmy Carter’s younger brother Billy legally represented the Libyan government as a foreign agent

* Bridgegate (2014); New Jersey Governor Chris Christie allegedly ordered lane closures from Fort Lee, New Jersey, to the George Washington Bridge, because the Fort Lee mayor did not endorse him for his re-election

* Hairgate (1993); Controversy surrounding a haircut given to U.S. President Bill Clinton

There are Journalism and Academic gates:

* Hackgate (also known as Rupertgate) (2011); Allegations that the now defunct News of the World had hacked into the phones of celebrities, politicians, and members of the British Royal Family

* Reutergate (2006); The controversy over Reuters photographer Adnan Hajj manipulating news photos with Photoshop

There are Sports gates:

* Deflategate (2015); Did they or did they not under-inflate the footballs?

* Tripgate (2010); Strength and Conditioning Coach Sal Alosi tripped cornerback Nolan Carroll as he ran down the sideline

* Bumpergate (1982); During the Daytona 500 race, drive Bobby Allison allegedly modified his car so that his rear bumper would fall off, giving him an aerodynamic edge

Funny thing is that these scandals aren’t limited to U.S. soil. Just listen to the names and places:

* Portraitgate (2009, Ireland): Two oil paintings depicting Brian Cowen, Taoiseach (prime minister) of Ireland, in the nude, were briefly displayed in Dublin art galleries in March 2009 as an act of guerilla art

* Toiletgate (2006, Elista, Kalmykia, Russia); The allegations by Veselin Topalov and his manager Silvio Danailov during the World Chess Championship that Topalov’s opponent Vladimir Kramnik was visiting the toilet suspiciously frequently during games

* Pastagate (2013, Canada); Controversy in which an Italian restaurant was investigated by the Quebec government for using words that do not comply with their language laws, such as “bottiglia”, “calamari” and “pasta”

* Porngate (2012, India) Three members of the Karnataka Legislative Assembly in India resign from their offices after accusations that they watched porn during government proceedings.

* Bottlegate (2001, Ohio); Rowdy fans of the Cleveland Browns threw plastic bottles and other debris on the field after a controversially overturned call in the final minute of the game led to the Browns losing the game to the Jacksonville Jaguars

You get my drift. So I figured, if there’s so many scandals out there with gates on them, why not create a few of my own?

* Grannygate: Busted for keeping grandson up way past his bedtime and offering him sugared drinks

* Catgate: When coaxing live cats to lay on the toy train track didn’t work, I offered my collection of stuffed unicorns as test subjects

* Employeegate: There are enough infractions in this scandal that this blog cannot list them all. I am on double secret probation until I am 85

* Flippergate: numerous violations of the “put the TV flipper back on the end table where you found it” rule. The scandal is that I never remember the rule — until I lose the flipper

* Irishfestgate (2012); I boasted to my 6 foot, 225-lb. son that I could keep up with him beer-for-beer at Irishfest. Guess who won, and guess who was sick for two days

There are a whole slew of gates for those who are curious — check out http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_scandals_with_%22-gate%22_suffix. I’m sure if you scoured your past you’d find a lot of gates, too. But thankfully, since most of us are just regular guys/gals, the media won’t be knocking on your door — er, gate — any time soon.

Just be smart, and keep your gate locked.

Just in case.

Squirrelly

January 27, 2015 ~ humoringthegoddess ~ 10 Comments

Today has been one of those “squirrelly” kind of days. You know those kind — I’ve misplaced more things today than I have in the past week. I suppose it’s because I’m always in a hurry. Sagittarians never seem to finish their current project — they always find something more interesting to do, and leave things half-way done.

I decided the best therapy was to either come home from work, eat, and head straight for the bed, getting up only to let the dogs out; or to come to the library and use their WiFi to work on my blog’s photo gallery. I kidded my friends on Facebook that I’m always tired, achy, ready for bed (even at 10 in the morning), and yet all I can think about is writing and researching and brainstorming with friends. They all told me it’s Writer’s Syndrome.

I wish I could say I was in the middle of my breakout novel — that I was working on an article for work or for my friend’s website. But it’s not. I’m kinda done with the novel thing for a while; I’ve thought about working on getting my Gaia and the Etruscans published, but here in the middle/end of January that just seems like too much work. So I spend my time with ways to enhance my blog.

There is no doubt that that ambition leads to quite a bit of squirrelly-ness.

I come across dozens of articles a week that promise to help me build my reader base, get picked up by search engines, make money by blogging (or writing in general), enhance my blogsite…enough to fill Dumbledore’s Goblet of Fire. There are a million blogs out there; a million ways to build/entice/share/follow — so many that I’m dizzy talking about it. I follow about 30 blogs, and could easily follow 30 more, but with a full-time job I barely have time to read my own writing.

This past year hubby has gotten a new job that is from 6 p.m. to 3 a.m. Bad for him — great for me. You would think. It is turning out that he doesn’t mind these hours, and I don’t have enough of them. Ah, you say — hours and hours of alone writing time! Peace and Quiet! Inspiration! Musing! Researching!

It’s a nice thought, but for someone like me who can’t sit still for 20 minutes, it’s a circus.

During the day I’m busy entering data, my Muse coming and bugging me now and then with new ideas. She is an Irish Wench, you know, and has no problem speaking her mind. And often times her ideas are great. But not when I’m entering HTML code. So we make a date to meet after hubby goes to work.

By that time I’ve been up 13 hours, let the dogs out three times, washed the dishes, thrown in a load of laundry, wiped the dust off the TV, and set up my writing corner on the sofa. By then my ambition has waned. My energy level slips minute by minute, and what seemed so exciting at 11 a.m. now seems like a mountain I’m too tired to climb. I manage to get a little work done so that pulling out my laptop isn’t for naught, but most times my mind is a blank.

Then about 9 p.m. I get my second wind.

Now, I have to get up in 8 hours, and old people like me are supposed to get at least 8-10 hours a sleep at night. But the great ideas of my Wench sneak back into my consciousness and I’m up writing and researching and downloading until 11:30 at night.

No wonder I’m so squirrelly.

I’m really trying to get into a schedule, a pattern, where I can do a little of everything and still get to bed at a decent time. But it doesn’t seem to be working. I escaped to the library this evening just so I wouldn’t have to let my dogs out three times and give them cookies and push the cat off my lap and look at the dishes I didn’t do or walk around the laundry I conveniently forgot to do.

Sometimes all I want to do is write.

But sometimes wantin’ ain’t gettin’.

How do YOU do it??

Sunday Evening Art Gallery Blog — Jeffrey Vanhoutte

January 25, 2015February 15, 2017 ~ humoringthegoddess ~ 5 Comments

As I work on revising my Sunday Evening Unique Art page to include all the great art I have found, I want to turn you onto another blogger and the fantastic art he led me to.

Live & Learn by my friend David Kanigan is a wonderfully creative world where he brings in poetry, quotations, photography — whatever his inspiration at the time. I asked (and he graciously agreed) to let me highlight an artist he highlighted a few weeks ago.

Brussels-based photographer Jeffrey Vanhoutte created this stunning project featuring an acrobatic dancer displaying various expressive poses that seem to be frozen in time.

The dancer throws clouds of powdered milk up in the air while fulfilling graceful and fluid movements.

A unique look at movement in motion. A spray caught in mid-air.

Movement is art — photography is art. This is a delicate combination of the two.

More of Jeffrey Vanhoutte’s black and white marvels can be found at http://www.ignant.de/2015/01/14/dancer-freezes-time-in-jeffrey-vanhouttes-project/ or at http://www.designboom.com/art/jeffrey-vanhoutte-freezes-acrobatic-angels-in-powdered-milk-showers-01-20-2015/.

You can find Jeffrey’s unique art at his own website as well, http://www.jeffreyvanhoutte.be/.

And do stop by David’s blog, Live & Learn — http://davidkanigan.com. Tell him the Goddess sent you!

Are You Plugged In?

January 24, 2015April 13, 2015 ~ humoringthegoddess ~ 6 Comments

One sign of getting older is that I seem to notice things I’ve never noticed before. I don’t know if it’s just swishing around past my prime, or rather just starting out in my prime, but I smell things no one else smells, hear things no one else hears, and notice actors and actresses being recycled through the years from one movie to another.

I love escapism. I don’t get to watch TV or movies as often as I’d like, as work and writing and yelling at the dogs takes up a lot of my time. But I find I wonder “how do they do that?” more often than not. And I’ll be the first to tell you that I am amazed at special effects. My simple brain cannot wrap around the fact that city landscapes and alien spaceships and Roman cities are nothing more than 1’s and 0’s running through a computer. I can’t even begin to understand how they made the German’s face melt in Indiana Jones and Raiders of the Lost Ark; Transformers destroying the city (and each other); Inception, where people run on ceilings and curl cityscapes back on themselves. King Kong. Toy Story. Avatar. The list goes on.

Special effects, computer generated imagery. Galaxies and Mordor and everything inbetween. And none of it is real. Yet one can’t help but get sucked into those worlds as if we really stepped through the magic portal. Our minds quit trying to figure out what’s real and what’s fake and just get lost in someone else’s creativity.

Even more mind-blowing is that the same part of the anatomy that everyone has — even me — is where it all comes from. One’s mind. Which resides in one’s brain. Which we all have (but not all use…ah…a blog for another day).

So it is with any step into creativity. We have all gotten lost in a good book, holding our breath as we turn the pages. We have all looked at a painting or a sculpture and marveled at its simplicity or complexity. Some are able to take the next step in their creative career — go to school, get published, get a job at Industrial Light and Magic. Some turn their love of acting into dinner theater or Broadway, or their skill at playing a guitar or piano into symphony orchestras or rock bands.

So why is it, if we all have the same equipment, we don’t understand the same thing? Why is it so hard for some of us and a piece of cake to others? I can barely do basic Math, yet accountants and computer designers see numbers as easily as seeing the sun. Mankind creates the most amazing, breathtaking, impossible things — all with that one little tool in their skull.

The “whys” of why some people develop the gift and others don’t I will leave to philosophy and a glass of wine. The point is, we ALL have the ability to use that hunk of grey matter to open those magic portals. Some can’t wait for their free time to jump into their next creative project; others see creativity as a waste of time.

Maybe it’s just that the same plug that plugs into the outlet of special effects is on a wall of infinite outlets that lead to infinite destinations. Maybe it’s just the luck of the draw that one plug leads to quantum physics and one to insanity. One to painting and one to crayons. We are all plugged in to different outlets. We can’t change where we are plugged in, but we CAN choose to follow the path of electricity to outlet boxes scattered all over the universe.

Working with the material inside the brain box is a lot of work. Some just catch on faster than others. But when you find that junction box where creativity makes you feel good, you want to stay plugged in. Some may be taken back by the jolt that comes now and then from creative satisfaction, while others find it a natural high they want to come back to again and again.

I don’t know where all this deep philosophy came from this fine morning, but I do know one thing — don’t give up. Make time. Let yourself be. Let it flow. And know you can come back to this feeling any time.

Whew … and to think … I had this cosmic burst before I had my morning coffee!

I Have A Dream…Again…

January 20, 2015January 20, 2015 ~ humoringthegoddess ~ 17 Comments

Usually I try and write something humorous, something out-of-the-box funny. After all, life’s too short not to laugh about it.

This tidbit is funny, but not for the reason you think.

I’m not a Jimmy Kimmel fan, but I have heard of his “Lie Witness News” segment, where he goes out on the street and asks passers-by questions that they should know the answer to. Of course, most of them don’t, which makes them seem stupid and makes us laugh.

But according to The Bert Show http://thebertshow.com/jimmy-kimmels-martin-luther-king-day-lie-witness-news-will-make-sad-america/ and other media reports, Jimmy went out on Martin Luther King Jr. Day and asked bystanders if they had seen Dr. King’s new speech from that morning.

7 out of 14 people said they had seen the speech and commented on it.

Seven out of 14. Fifty percent. Half.

Now, I’m not the sharpest tool in the shed. I had to look up the year Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. was assassinated. (1968…I was off two years..) And, okay, maybe I’m a little older than most of the people pulled off the street — as in, maybe half of them weren’t even born in 1968.

I wasn’t born when Lincoln was assassinated, either. But I do know he was assassinated.

This isn’t rocket science. Martin Luther King Jr. was a great man for many reasons. Maybe you agreed with his philosophy, maybe you didn’t. Maybe you are white or black or yellow or whatever other prejudices hang above our heads and don’t really have an opinion. But you can’t deny that the man made a change in the world.

And you should know the man died for his goals. His dreams.

I know this isn’t a true representation of America and Americans. And I know it was done for fun, for ratings. But the fact is that 7 out of 14 random Americans said they heard the speech.

THEY HEARD THE SPEECH.

I don’t know which is funnier. Stupid people or stupid liars. After all, they did find their way onto television…15 minutes of fame and all …

(picture: 1894 sculpture by Willian Wetmore Story, which serves as the grave stone of the artist and his wife at the Protestant Cemetery, Rome)

Sunday Evening Art Gallery — Stairway to Nowhere

January 18, 2015December 28, 2020 ~ humoringthegoddess ~ 4 Comments

There’s a lady who’s sure all that glitters is gold
And she’s buying a stairway to heaven.
When she gets there she knows, if the stores are all closed
With a word she can get what she came for.
Ooh, ooh, and she’s buying a stairway to heaven.

There’s a sign on the wall but she wants to be sure
‘Cause you know sometimes words have two meanings.
In a tree by the brook, there’s a songbird who sings,
Sometimes all of our thoughts are misgiven.

Ooh, it makes me wonder

Ooh, it makes me wonder.

There’s a feeling I get when I look to the west,
And my spirit is crying for leaving.
In my thoughts I have seen rings of smoke through the trees,
And the voices of those who stand looking.

Ooh, it makes me wonder,
Ooh, it really makes me wonder.

And it’s whispered that soon, if we all call the tune,
Then the piper will lead us to reason.
And a new day will dawn for those who stand long,
And the forests will echo with laughter.

If there’s a bustle in your hedgerow, don’t be alarmed now,
It’s just a spring clean for the May queen.
Yes, there are two paths you can go by, but in the long run
There’s still time to change the road you’re on.

Your head is humming and it won’t go, in case you don’t know,
The piper’s calling you to join him,
Dear lady, can you hear the wind blow, and did you know
Your stairway lies on the whispering wind?

And as we wind on down the road
Our shadows taller than our soul.
There walks a lady we all know
Who shines white light and wants to show
How everything still turns to gold.

And if you listen very hard
The tune will come to you at last.
When all are one and one is all
To be a rock and not to roll.

And she’s buying … a stairway … to heaven.

Lyrics — Stairway to Heaven. Led Zeppelin, 1971

The Twilight Zone

January 16, 2015June 4, 2018 ~ humoringthegoddess ~ 6 Comments

There was a Twilight Zone marathon on television over the New Year’s holiday. It was a delight in its black-and-white originality. Like the original Star Trek, the episodes are pretty dated; stiff acting and unrealistic props make the episodes occasionally uneasy to watch. But if you get past the technical blips of 50 years ago, you will see the beginning of real science fiction.

In 1955, Rod Serling branched out into television script writing with the TV business drama Patterns. Patterns earned Serling his first Emmy Award. His second Emmy win came a year later, with the 1956 production ofRequiem for a Heavyweight, starring Jack Palance.

What I didn’t know was that during the late 1950s, Serling fought the CBS network when they insisted on editing his controversial scripts.

In a television era today where the bloodier/sexier/bolder the better, it’s hard to imagine such censorship laid the early foundation of storytelling. Fortunately for us, instead of continuing to fight inevitable censorship, Serling turned from realism to the sci-fi fantasy genre in 1959 with the iconic series The Twilight Zone.

Side by side in the world with Isaac Asimov, Arthur C. Clarke and Ray Bradbury, Rod Serling was able to take the politics of the day and turn the truth into something real and foreboding. The themes that ran through The Twilight Zone continue to be relevant in 2015. Our horrors, our problems, may seem much more complicated these days, but we are not so different than those who feared the Cold War or alien invasions.

The real purpose of this blog was to read the “description” of Rod Serling’s leap to other worlds. It sums up the reason why writers write. No matter if it’s biography, science fiction, poetry, mysteries, or editorials. The reason we write is to escape into the “fifth” dimension. That world that exists beside us, beneath us, inside of us. Whether we can see it or not, the story is there. No matter where creativity lies, it’s waiting there for us. To open the door. To open the mind.

Listen:

There is a fifth dimension beyond that which is known to man. It is a dimension as vast as space and as timeless as infinity. It is the middle ground between light and shadow, between science and superstition, and it lies between the pit of man’s fears and the summit of his knowledge. This is the dimension of imagination. It is an area which we call “The Twilight Zone”.

Isn’t that ALL art?

Shhhh Kitty Kitty Kitty….

January 13, 2015 ~ humoringthegoddess ~ 10 Comments

Let me start off by saying – I love cats. I love MY cats. They are solace when I am sad, they are loving when I feel empty.

Now.

My cats also drive me up the proverbial wall.

They do the usual “cat” things…they lay on my laptop when I’m typing, sleep by my head when I’m trying to sleep. But they also make more noise than the Park Street Band. Especially Tom.

Tom is my grey and white tuxedo. He is the friendliest, coolest cat I’ve ever owned. He holds his own against my chocolate lab, along with the two other labs that practically live at my house. He allows my grandson to carry him all around the house, feet dangling near the floor, as his body as long as my grandson is tall. He loves to lay on your lap – anyone’s lap – especially if you are under a blanket.

What’s the problem, then, you ask?

It’s multifold, actually.

First off, his meow is loud and demanding. Not just when he’s hungry, but when he wants a snack. When he wants a bite. When the other cat eats more than her share of breakfast and dinner. He’s not a fat cat – he’s just a slow eater. A bite, a nibble, a nap, another bite. So his eating/lifestyle often leaves his bowl empty, and his meow obnoxious. Relentless. Over the top.

I think Tom must be a vocal kind of cat. For his pestering snacking “meow” doesn’t hold a candle to his…cleaning ritual.

I have never heard a cat be so loud in cleaning himself. Not just a licky here, chewy there. This is a full-blown, groaning, squeaking, icky-sticky ritual. Grunts and groans that would make a sound effects master blush. And he seems to pick the quietest times to take a bath. 2 a.m. 4 a.m. When I just go to bed. An hour before I wake up. If he can’t lick himself, he licks the dog’s head. Unless I close the bedroom door at night, he is there like clockwork. Cuddling, snuggling, licking and yacking and hacking. If I close him out, he and the other cat play tag from one end of the house to the other. I’m doomed no matter which way I turn.

You say maybe he’s got a mineral deficiency. Or needs more water. Or a bath. I am of the belief that he is just one big, happy cat, and when he kicks back and relaxes, he thinks, “Hey! I’m relaxed! Laid back! Let’s get clean!”

My other cat Mysty is the fat cat. I feel bad – I have never overfed either one. It’s just that once she got her plumbing “fixed”, she put on a pound or six. As the joke goes, she never met a meal she didn’t like. Rattle the cat food container and she is all over me like white on rice. So to speak. And once she’s full, she loves to lay and snuggle … on my chest. Ten pounds of kitty makes breathing a little labored. Not that I let her lay around my neck – it’s just that she hasn’t forgotten she used to do that when she was a baby. Three years and ten pounds ago.

Pets are a wonderful thing. Cats and dogs are wonderful companions. They give of themselves 100 percent of the time, wanting nothing more than to be loved in return.

I just wish they’d be a bit more quiet about it.

Sunday Evening Art Gallery Blog — Modern Museums

January 11, 2015February 15, 2017 ~ humoringthegoddess ~ 7 Comments

I love Art Museums.

When I used to work in downtown Chicago, I used to walk to the Art Institute during my lunch hour and wander through its halls one room at a time. I could meander for months and never see it all. The building’s step-back-in-time classical architecture is what art museums are all about.

But in my quest to open my mind and soul to other forms of art, imagine my delight in the structure of modern art museums.

Milwaukee Art Museum, Wisconsin

You can’t help but notice the unique, almost impossible, angles.

National Museum of American Indian, Washington

Like most Modern Art, these buildings challenge your senses.

Boston Museum of Contemporary Art, Massachusetts

Their designs ask you to make sense of sleek lines and sensual curves.

Porsche Museum, Stuttgart, Germany

Sparkling glass and sleek stainless house countless creations that reflect a different side of the human mind.

Modern Museum of Art, Fort Worth, Texas

I admit that I don’t always understand a Modernist’s point of view.

Museum of Contemporary Art, New York

But one does not always have to understand to appreciate. Or to feel.

Frederick R. Weisman Art Museum, Minnesota

And, after all — isn’t that what Art is supposed to do? Make you feel?

The Niterói Contemporary Art Museum, Brazil

I Don’t Care

January 8, 2015January 10, 2015 ~ humoringthegoddess ~ 3 Comments

notquiteold

I love it when I remember something I didn’t even know I remembered.

Yesterday a crazy memory bubbled up from somewhere in my addled storage facility.

Years ago I took an evening art class – Watercolor Painting. (Sometimes I wish I were British so I could type Watercolour. Isn’t that classy? And I’d say “Whilst” too. And “Zed.” And “I chatted him up in the tube because I fancied him.” And “Wanker.”)

But anyway…

I took this Watercolor class, and we sat two-by-two at tables. I usually sat with a woman my age – which wasn’t old then because it was a long time ago – but it wasn’t exactly young either. But once in a while I sat next to a young guy. (a young “bloke” – I really want to be British. Can I be British as a New Year’s Resolution? Like “I resolve to be thinner…

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Inedible Edibles

January 8, 2015January 28, 2015 ~ humoringthegoddess ~ 6 Comments

This evening my bff and I were having quite a time lamenting/marveling/pondering our lack of drive and motivation during these sub-zero temperatures. Not only am I guilty of non-motivation, non-creativity, and non-energy, but I alternate between sweating and freezing, all within minutes of each other. Eventually our lamenting/marveling/pondering conversation meandered towards cooking, scattered schedules, and trying to scale down from cooking for 20 (so to speak) to cooking for two. Or one. Or 2-1/2, depending on who visits. And we decided what we needed was to go to cooking school. Not to Le Cordon Bleu or the Culinary Institute of America – what we needed was something a little down-homey. A little more working-woman-centric.

What we need is a Culinary School of Leftovers.

We both agreed it would be great to take a course or two on what to do with those wilty veggies that somehow get pushed to the side of the veggie drawer. Or the leftover meatballs that have already seen Swedish and Italian and aren’t in the mood for sub sandwiches. With the right training, I’m sure we could find uses for overripe tomatoes, brown avocados, and cold fried chicken.

I come from a family of cooking big. Although there were only four of us, I often pictured my boys as underfed. What I lacked in culinary expertise I made up for in quantity. Pots of stew and spaghetti sauce filled the stove, table, and freezer. I didn’t have the where-for-all to use saffron or arugula, but carrots and potatoes and pork chops – oh my!

Now that my kids have moved out, it’s only hubby and me. He works the night shift, I slave away during the day. So without teenagers to wolf down meatloaf and steak and stir fry, I find my meals lack any real creativity. Never mind the fact that hubby and I only have about a half hour to share gourmet delights between shifts; never mind that between domestic chores and full-time jobs there is little or no time to whip up soufflés and pot-de-feus.

I own plenty of cookbooks – any food dilemma you can think of, I’m prepared for. Crockpot cooking. Meals-on-a-budget. Italian cooking. Chinese cooking. What the cookbooks lack, though, is the human element. The voice that needles you and makes you feel bad every time you leave leftovers in the frig for over a week. Just because you made Chinese for 10 and 9 people didn’t show up doesn’t mean you should push the container back behind the juice and forget about it for a few weeks.

What my friend and I need is a cooking school that will fit into our budget, time frame, and leftover habits. Wilted celery? No problem! Cheese with blue spots on the edge? Don’t worry about it! The right Leftover Cooking School would not only teach us to cook for two (again), but would specialize in the following subjects:

Impulse buying. Why I don’t need to buy baby corns and an eggplant and a head of lettuce and six ears of corn and a head of cabbage and portabella mushrooms and leeks all in one week.
Portion control. A plateful of spaghetti and Italian Sausage doesn’t mean a platter-sized plate.
Freezing leftovers. How making a stockpot of soup can be turned into six different meals instead of one meal and five science experiments.
That there is life for ground chuck beyond meatballs and sloppy joes.

Just think! I could take courses in “10 Uses for Leftover Tuna Casserole,” “Jelly’s Not Just for Peanut Butter Anymore,” or “Spices Beyond Garlic Powder.” I could find new uses for the half-bottles of ranch dressing, capers, and horseradish that hang out in my refrigerator door. I could learn how to throw leftover parties, combining the delights of fried rice, polish sausage and sauerkraut, and expired refrigerator biscuits into something revolutionary and nourishing!

I must admit, the thought of a Culinary School of Leftovers is something worth pondering. With the number of Tupperware containers taking up space in my refrigerator, there would be endless possibilities for lectures and discussions.

And not all in the realm of edible.

Sunday Evening Art Gallery — Ramon Bruin

January 5, 2015March 20, 2016 ~ humoringthegoddess ~ 4 Comments

I have heard that life is nothing but an illusion.

Then what would you think of Optical Illusion..ism?

Ramon Bruin, born in 1981 in Alkmaar, The Netherlands, graduated in 2010 from the Airbrush Academie in Lelystad, The Netherlands. In 2012 he made a worldwide breakthrough with his own invented style which he calls ‘Optical Illusionism’.

Optical Illusionism is a combination of drawing and photography. Bruin creates drawings that come to live when photographed from the exact right angle.

Ramon Bruin makes you want to reach out and touch his creations. As if they existed in your own three dimensions.

It takes incredible hand and eye coordination to bring a creation to life. To give it breath and depth.

But it takes less than a moment to appreciate the same. Less than a flash to marvel and appreciate.

And all the while you wonder — how does he do that? And like the true magician, the truth will be always elusive.

And that is the beauty of it.

To find more intricacies of Ramon Bruin, I encourage you to go to his website, http://www.ramon-bruin.com/art/ .

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