L'Oiseau de poire

My sister and grandmother's feathered creation of pear, date, boursin, pimento, grape, ginger cookie, cinnamon, and cloves.
My cousin's vegetarian family in Basel will adopt these next year as part of their turkey-free turkeyday.

(I hope yours was a happy one).

A Fiction, A Domesticated Reality

"Art is troublesome

not because it is not delightful, but because it is not more delightful: we accustom ourselves to the failure of gardens to make our lives as paradisal as

their prospects.

"This is the record of a struggle to assimilate more and more to the real of delight, which takes up less and less obvious sources of gratification till in the end we feel we can take the same joy in almost any made thing. It is about bringing things indoors, about domesticating reality, and the model for all these objects is a building-- the palpable idea, the traversible speech, the simplest experience of being in more than one place at a time."

-Robert Harbison, Eccentric Spaces (P. xi)

.
. . .
A lovely affirmation.
A melancholic sentiment.
(now kiss me, you old fool)
. . .
.
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