giving thanks for my mother, inspired cooking, and the arts

mom's cute webcam pic for her FB page

Tues., Jan. 10:  I give thanks for my mother.  She conceived me (with some help of course) and carried me in her womb, labored for 36 hours, and bears a scar where they finally decided to cut her open and remove me from her body.  Though I did not grow up with her (I was raised by my father from birth) we have always had a great relationship, one that has only grown deeper with time.  Those of you who know me well know the full story here - perhaps I will write it some time.  She is one of my best friends, one of the wisest women I know, and always a voice of reason in my life.

Wed., Jan. 11:  I give thanks for spontaneous inspiration in the kitchen.  Growing up, I think my dad may have cooked for us a total of 10 times, or maybe a few more, but I think at least half of those meals were hot dog sandwiches or franks and beans.  We ate out a lot of the time.  Sometimes, Eileen, my half-brother's mom who lived under us in the first-floor apartment of the house I grew up in, would cook dinner for me, but I didn't usually witness the process.

I did not grow up around anyone preparing meals.  The only memories I can really think of where I witnessed some major cooking was at my aunt's and granddad's on holidays, and that was some major cooking that went on for hours and hours, resulting in quite a feast, where you eat on and off all day.  Now, I'm a wife, and a mother of three, and there has definitely been a bit of a learning curve here.  I discovered in my adult years that I'm a pretty good 'intuitive' cook, meaning I keep healthy ingredients around and can usually hook up a good meal by throwing some of those ingredients together.  

However, cooking for yourself or one other person is one thing.  And, I've done alot of eating out in my adult years for sure, esp. since so many were spent leading a hustle 'n' bustle kinda life.  Now, I'm responsible for providing 3 meals a day for 3 other people (baby Din is still pretty exclusively on my milk) and myself.  This is no small feat.  Honestly, I'm usually wingin' it.  I'm not a recipe kinda gal.  Meal planning sounds nice, but it's not very realistic for me, given that I'm the type of person who often has difficulty planning beyond the next hour, except for really important things of course.  My main strategy is simply to keep good, healthy, yummy food around, and then see what comes together when it's time to eat.  (We don't have set meal times either.)

So what led to this post was a bit of spontaneous genius in the kitchen on Wednesday night.  At shortly after 7 pm, I thought, hmmm, what should we have for dinner?  I thawed some chicken in the nuker (in the basement - I resort to its' use in emergencies only ;), scrambled two eggs in coconut oil, added some frozen veggie fried rice to that, a few squirts of Bragg's Liquid Aminos, and threw the chicken in a separate pan with olive oil, drizzled with raw cider vinegar, added some Celtic sea salt and other spices, and then some fresh garlic.  Sounds good, but kinda a typical meal around here, and Atom and I have both been getting a bit 'bored' with food, so... I decided to put the rice on a corn tortilla, topped with the chicken, and then topped with a slice of cheese.  Popped into the toaster oven to melt the cheese, and voila!  Delicious.  Yummy yum.


Thurs., Jan. 12:  I give thanks for the arts, all kinds, for they have the ability to give voice to the heart, mind, and spirit, and release, inspire, feel understood, bring joy, and heal.  There has been a lot of grieving, reflecting, spontaneous weeping, and ruminating going on of late, off & on over the past few months.  (See a past post here and the FB page of a friend who left this world a few weeks ago here.)  It is making my thyroid ache.  As I said in that previous post, so much of the weeping and sorrow is not for my own grief, but for others' suffering.  I am an empath, and I think part of my purpose is to help transmute those very difficult emotions.  I just have to be careful not to let them get stuck in my body.

One of the things that helps me with that is listening to good music, and especially music that makes me want to sing.  So, yesterday I was listening to this really awesome album, 'Be OK' by Ingrid Michaelson.  Over and over.  It felt so good.  In fact, I think I'm gonna put it on repeat again, right now.  It's so awesome how sometimes just the right music comes on at just the right time, speaking to your life.  In this case, I felt like it was speaking more to my dear friend (who has just gone through the most difficult time of her life) than it was to me, but it helped, and I sang and sang, and sent her love all the while.

(As a sidenote, if you're suffering, or have ever felt suicidal:  Just don't get caught up listening to some sad music over and over while drinking copious amounts of alcohol when you're depressed.  That's a bad idea.  Switch it up.  Feel the misery, for a little while.  Then find something that gives you some shred of hope and happiness.  If you can't force yourself to stop wallowing, find a kid, yours or someone else's and hug them, play with them for 5 minutes.  That will make you feel better, at least for a little while.  Most kids have this great intuitive sense that tells them when you need a really good hug or a laugh.)

We hosted our co-op/tribe at our house yesterday.  I gave a lesson with a brief overview of the history of art from cave painting to the present, looking at the trends and styles that evolved over time, and the factors that influenced those trends.  And then, we painted.  Anything we wanted.  And it felt so good.  Here are ours.  The pics aren't great - I just took them on the webcam, but I'll share anyway.  

Phoe's painting: acrylic on cardboard.

Adobe's painting - her variation of Genevra DaBenci: acrylic on canvas

my painting - in progress still: acrylic on masonite

 My thanks for the arts is so infinite that I could write a whole book on it.  There will be more to come on the matter, I'm sure, but this post has been long enough already.  Visual and performing arts have pervaded my life for as long as I can remember.  My given name, Artis Mooney, aptly translates to 'wealth of art'.  Artis - Latin - 'of art'; Mooney - Gaelic - 'wealth'.

XO