Caught in the Act....

The soda bomber strikes again.....

A Tale of Grape Soda or How Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb

Screw the build-up, there's enough of that in this story anyway.  I'm going to start with the climax: a giant fountain explosion of sticky grape soda spewing all over my kitchen, behind the refrigerator, covering shoes and clothes and photos and the floor even the goddamn butter dish.  Everywhere.  And Darling Kai literally mopping the ceiling and getting so overwhelmed with my insane, mad scientist food experiments that he had to excuse himself to the shower to wash off the stickiness and calm his nerves.  And he banned any food projects involving fermentation "until you actually know something about it."  Touché, my dear, touché.  One explosion is a learning curve, two is a habit.  I think he may now have PTSD as regards the kitchen, which he has started referring to as "the war zone". This puts a serious damper on our unspoken arrangement about who does the dishes. (I'll give you a hint: it's not me.)

Yes friends, this is the side of food blogging that no one actually writes about...the projects gone horribly awry....the experiments that turn out mediocre, un-photographable or just plain gross.  Because here's the saddest part about the grape soda saga: it was supposed to be delicious....effervescent, sweet, bubbly and wonderfully wholesome.  But the part that I could salvage just tasted like watered down, slightly fizzy, boiled grape juice.  In other words, not at all worth mopping the ceiling and having a kitchen that will probably smell like stale fruit-roll-ups for the next two weeks.  Don't believe all the food bloggers out there who only show their professionally lit, perfectly arranged cupcakes, posting recipes and witty dialogue that makes it all seems so easy...liars!  Let my sticky walls and shell-shocked boyfriend serve as a much-needed reality check.  And also as a crash course in legal explosives.

Defeatedly,
Jenny "The Soda Bomber" Irene

In Honor of San Francisco's Crazy Indian-Summer-October

The Summer Day

Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean--
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down--
who is gazing around with her enormous, complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?

--Mary Oliver

The Love Blanket

Do you remember your little comfort buddy from when you were tiny?  My older sister had her teddy bear, Jonathan, but my younger sister and I were firmly in the blanket camp.  Meredith had a little blue and white blankie with a horse on it, Pony, and I had a fuzzy pink blanket with satin trim, Pinkie (...toddlers tend to be quite staunch literalists.)

So blankets are comforting, right?  They're fuzzy, you can snuggle up with them and they're pretty portable/practical when traveling.  And they happen to be a fantastic way to use up all the leftover yarn odds and ends sitting around in your preciously-small apartment storage space.  I made the original Love Blanket for Darling Kai.  (Reason #1: his bedding was kinda wooly/scratchy; Reason #2: who doesn't want their boyfriend to think of them when he climbs into bed?)  

So I knitted up a giant love blanket for Kai last year as a Christmas present and soon after he started having dreams that about it.  He'd be in some dire nightmare situation and in his peripheral he'd catch a glimpse of the Love Blanket glowing in the corner--Love Blanket to the rescue!  I think the moral of the story is that my knitted creations have magical powers. (Yes, I am taking commissions...).

The Original Love Blanket

Right around the same time, I find out (joy of joys!) that I'm going to be an auntie.  Sister Kate is having a baby boy and we just celebrated with a shower last weekend.  So obviously the little one needs a blankie with magical powers. 

Baby Mango's Love Blanket

I'm super addicted to the pattern for this blanket (based this Knitty article). You start with a little tiny circle in the middle, add stitches as you swirl around, and the blanket gets bigger and bigger.  It works especially well with my disdain for planning--it's a pattern that encourages improvisation; you can make it as big as you like, adding colors and stripes whenever, until it reaches blankety perfection.

I hope the little mango has dreams about  his glowing, super-powered Love Blanket; that he wears it as a cape while he flies around his apartment; and that he loves it down to the nub.

Guest Post: iheartmies and a lot of one thing

One great thing about having creative friends is that you get to have these full, funny, long conversations about the things that fascinate you.  In a friendship that is approaching the ten-year mark, iheartmies and I have been having a years-long dialogue about a lot of one thing.  Really it's a conversation about transformation by simple multiplication.  I get such a kick out it, that I asked her to write something for the blog.

But first a little intro to the lady: she's a bloody Renaissance woman, a damn fine karaoke companion, and I seriously admire her collages (and covet one of the queen and Tricky Dick...hint, hint).  There's a very good chance that she is the only thing keeping me hip at this point in my life.  Without further ado:

talking to jenny about muses
for her
circles
for me
it is a lot of one thing

 

why do i like a lot of one thing?
and why is it my muse?

lets just break it down into fundamentals

shit lets make a list
im good at lists

So where and why do we see a lot of one thing?
(1) nature - to carry on ones species

(2) social - to have a sense of community

  (3) creative - because visually, it is stunning

(4) something about space/universe the unknown 

(1) nature - this is a couple of things, but not scientific for purposes of this discussion

mathematics and procreation
this is general
we are not talking adoption or twins
those situations make the math complicated but follow with the perpetuation of a lot of one thing
so
1 person + 1 person = 3 people
1 flower + 1 bee + 1 flower = fruit + honey
apids (man i hate those invertebrates, stop eating my kale! jerks) they just multiply
1 apid x my kale = hella aphids
so as we see in ourselves and nature
there were fewer of us and things
now there are more of us and things
shit dies to but, not as fast

 

(2) social - sense of community
we migrated to people and stay in groups
as do other animals and plants
some of this is just nature
some of this is social - common cultures, age groups, genders, etc.
gathering with likeness is common and comforting
its gives us something to relate too
chinatown
old folks home

(3) creative - because visually, it is stunning
hundred of things coming together to become one thing
its where complexity and minimalism meet
it makes something so intricate in number but so simple in form

 

(4) something about space and the universe/the unknown
space
its infinite to us
we cant count all the stars and they are millions of miles away
those numbers can not be broken down or distinguished in our minds
but we can grasp the idea of the universe, its a lot of one thing condensed into a concept
the idea that we are comprised of, surrounded by and submerged in a lot of one thing is my muse

a lot of one thing
its simple but, its complicated in its execution
it allows us to relate to something with multiple scales
its a way for the human mind to make sense of a large number

Let iheartmies keep you cool too:

photos

etsy

music

Dreamy List

Here is a list of things I would like to do someday:

1. Be a cowgirl
2. Take a trip to Marakesh, buy a monkey at an exotic pet market and smuggle it back to the US as a baby in a blanket
3. Make wine from grapes I stomp with my own feet
4. Create a garden that tells the time of day by which flower is blooming (it's gardenia o'clock!)
5. Spend an entire month without a cell phone, clock or computer
6. Take a summer to cross the US with a van and teepee
7. Tour some islands in the South Pacific in a canoe
8. Train a herd of goats to follow me around as I sing to them
9. Learn to play Chopin on the ukelele
10. Take the Trans-Siberian railway to Mongolia
11. Break into a pool somewhere in the United Arab Emirates
12. Have a pet elephant
13. Compete in a camel race
14. Create a miniature farm with pygmy goats, Shetland ponies, miniature cows and my pet monkey as a cowboy
15. Turn 80, move to Florida, wear only terry cloth clothing and play bridge and shuffle board all day

I'd love to hear yours!

Friends with Tiny Flowers

I am not much of a collector...I don't really understand the compulsion. But there is something very pleasing about repetition, seeing the same thing, slightly varied, over and over. You start to understand a thing when you deal with it often, develop a relationship....get a feel for it...understand its appeal.  In a way I've begun a collection of my friends through these photos.

I started taking these pictures of friends last summer in France for no real reason. Now I'm becoming slightly obsessed and need to restrain myself from asking strangers if they would hold a tiny flower in their mouth while I take a REAL close picture of their face. Luckily, I still have enough sense to understand that this strains the boundary of civility.

Ana

Elly

Eddie

There are a couple things that I like about taking the photos:

1. I give no instruction on how to pose and this results in some great expressions

2. The mouth is so charismatic and without the eyes, it gets center stage

3. Having an extreme close-up is very intimate and slightly awkward....this tickles me for some reason.

Libby

Darling Kai

Jezra

Liz

Amy

Jezra took some liberties with this final one and I love it!

So don't be suprised if I corner you with a small daisy and a camera--you've been warned!

Small Creations: Quick Disguise

One of my favorite things about the city is how easily one can be anonymous.  Put on your hat and sunglasses, deliver yourself to an unfamiliar neighborhood and you may wander around unmolested, undetected, practically invisible. I find it soothing to be surrounded by an indifferent crowd of people...like holding someone's hand while they're sleeping.  Something about my own inner silence, surrounded by the noise of the street is like a lullaby for my soul.

But for those situations which require a more robust disguise, I offer this small creation.  Inspired by the classic children's toy, this simple design allows one to interchange glasses, noses, mustaches and any other accoutrements one might need to remain undetected.  

Whether you choose to cloak yourself in anonymity and sunglasses or a felt mustache, I do recommend breaking up the monotony of being oneself every once in a while.  But don't stay shrouded in mystery for too long...after all, there's no invisible disguise that lasts all day....

The Ceiling Forest

I cannot really tell you why I decided to create a forest on my bedroom ceiling, but all of the sudden the idea took hold and I just wanted to see it.  I think it began with looking up in the morning when my eyes were cloudy from sleeping...maybe lamenting the limited wall real estate in my tiny apartment....perhaps wishing there were something more interesting to gaze at while falling asleep or waking up.  Call it obsession, call it inspiration, it seized me.  So I began experimenting with different kinds of trees and finally landed on making my own out of red and gold rice paper.  Individually they are beautiful....

And en masse they are mesmerizing....

Slowly I am taking over the entire ceiling....

One unexpected surprise is the way that the forest changes with the light.  The shadows cast themselves all over the ceiling.  Sometimes the lantern in the middle looks like the radiant center of the solar system.  When the lights are off and the candles are lit, the shadows stretch across the ceiling like sunset.

As it slowly spreads across the ceiling, I imagine little glens and stands will form, tiny house fairies and apartment elves will find homes....maybe the miniature forest will creep down the wall and spill out of the bedroom...inspiring ceilings all over the apartment to rebel against thier boring lot....defying popcorn paint and old lighting fixtures....installing beauty on every surface, no matter how neglected....

So you wanna be a soda jerk?

I warn you, this is not a project for the faint of heart. In fact, as I write this, my boyfriend is going into obsessive-compulsive shock at the thought sleeping in the same apartment as the "soda bombs" that I have created. The last time I made soda I was awoken at 6AM by a loud bang and sleepily wandered into the kitchen to find it covered in glass shards and sticky ginger soda. I'm still finding crusty sugar in the corners. But if you really think you're up for it, I'll outline the basics.

First you have to make the bubbles. One way is to make a lacto-ferment start. Put all the ingredients in a jar and every day add another couple tablespoons of sugar until little bubble start to form (4-7 days).

Add all of this to a big pot and simmer until the sugar dissolves. Let it cool down to room temp.

This makes a lot of soda, about eight 750 ml bottles.

Check it every couple of days to make sure that the lacto-ferment babies are eating the sugar. (You'll know it's working if it gets less and less sweet.)

Put a lid on the jugs and shake it up real good to distribute the simple syrup.

Open the bottle carefully when you check them--the soda has a tendancy to shoot out when done. You'll know they're getting on their way to done when tiny bubbles form after you open the bottle.

Be careful: when the carbonation gets going, it goes fast and WILL explode if you're not vigilant.

Strangely this project began with my eyeballs turning into reptiles. I've got this little thing called eczema...you may have heard of it. Being averse to doctors, I started looking up herbal cures on the interwebs and found that sasparilla (the main flavor in root beer!) is commonly used to alleviate skin problems. Upon further intensive research (a.k.a. another 5 mintues of googling) I found that sodas were originally prescribed as elixers for all sorts of ailments. Coca-cola for when you needed a little pep, ginger beer for colds...you get the picture. But this is not a story of soda-pop heroism. In a strange act of sanity, I visited my physician who prescribed some creams that are healing my scaly skin. The eczema was merely the inspiration and now it has evolved into it's own reward: delicious, pro-biotic tastiness!

Musings: Arbitration with Inspiration?

A friend recently turned me on to Radiolab.  And yes, that means that I've been living under a rock for a while....specifically a rock in Hawaii and then France.  Nonetheless, I have now rejoined the ranks of the hip adult world and am sufficiently impressed with the stimulating sonic bath that is their weekly podcast.  Just yesterday I listened to an episode called Help! which talks about the battles and negotiations that we have with ourselves.  Very interesting. 

Most interesting to me was a discussion that they had with Elizabeth Gilbert about a conversation that she had with Tom Waites; subject: inspiration.  Liz and Tom both seem to think that creativity is something outside yourself...a force of nature that can be caught, lost, negotiated with, threatened, sweet-talked....depending of course of on your methods and personality...basically that creativity is a relationship not a characteristic.  Which would mean that creative people aren't gifted, they are just devoted lovers of the Muses. 

Obviously this struck a chord, thus the post.  This theory seems particularly true of writing.  I myself am a writer by trade, though not the creative kind.  I churn out grants, proposals, fund development plans, newsletters.  Nothing that will ever earn me a Pulitzer or even an invitation to a cool dinner party for "literary" folks.  But even this mundane type of writing either flows or it doesn't.  The first draft either comes out in one crystaline stream of narrative or I sit there staring at the screen and checking at my cell phone every five minutes.  So I can relate to the idea that inspiration is something outside of yourself....otherwise writing would be a piece of cake all the time.  And for other projects...the more I spend time creating, the more inspiration I find for new things, the more new ideas I get for things to make.  Like any relationship, the more I put into it, the more I get out of it.  So I can relate there too.

What do you think? Is creativity something we are, something we borrow or something else altogether?

Edible Love in Three Steps

Step 1: make a heart-shaped coconut cake and then soak it in rum, coconut milk and cream.





Step 2: Assemble into a high-rise of delectable goodness and top with rum-soaked Morello cherries.




3. Serve to the target audience: your pirate-loving, tiki-bar-obsessed (i.e. rum and coconut loving) sweetheart.





- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

A New Project for My Projects

I begin this new writing project with its inspiration. A haiku, a photo and a philosophical statement all wrapped up in a nice yellow package. Clifton Burt is the mind behind the print, which has been hanging on my wall for the last year and half. Lately it's become more than an inspiration. It's been my mantra, my new artistic destination, a lens to focus all of the disparate obesssions of my creative life. And now a catalogue of all the things I make: dresses, tiny birds, ginger beer, sweaters, parties and whatever else my little brain dreams up.

So here we go....