prayers to perseverance

Sometimes the best we can do is whisper a prayer and hold on.
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I need to hear it. The arguing-the jabs of sibling rivalry-the commanding claims of big brother superiority. Oh, I need to hear it.
But for now, this quiet. Peaceful at times, in some manifestations. Currently-deeply resonating and achingly absent.
My blessing's in discord: I need to hear it. Bring on the noisome brawling dear Lord. Give me my peace. ____________________________________________________________________

Hope springs eternal. Where God closes one door...
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My self leveling state of being, of living, has had the plug pulled and spills haphazardly around the ticking of my minutes. Patch work has been performed and holds, provisionally, fast. A new life level is needed. A new 'normal' defined. A new 'trish is....'
The absence that in its infant days was a 24 carat gold wrapped gift full of discovery and wonder has become a burdensome anxiety and need. The tender pain of life changes is compiling much too quickly in this all at once of my summer. Minutely controlled breaths, exhaling, inhaling, from my first waking moment through to my final nightly sigh hold the patch fast.
Definitively clinging to 'To Dos' and walking with my faith forward. Facing the quiet, the compiling, the sometimes hollow anguish, with regulated resolve. Plundering forward until it all makes sense. Stepping where the road leads until the light illuminates. 200 ft Lord God. Keep my walking. in love. trish
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Sometimes miracles occur only when you jump.

4am

I really, really like to bake in the early morning. I come downstairs before the birds; before any hint of sunlight begins its creeping over the horizon; before the late night roaming wildlife have settled into their daytime hiding places. If I am not found in the studio at 3 30am then I am in the kitchen, flipping the oven temp to 350 and turning on the mixer. I like to imagine my neighbors awakening to a faint hint of sugary, fruitfully filled goodness engaging their senses. Who needs an alarm clock?!

Today I needed to use up some peaches. I get a weekly delivery from Full Circle Farms. It arrives via a wonderful program called a CSA (community supported agriculture). If you have any inclination to keep your food local and organic, I encourage you to check them out! I have two CSA's of which I am a huge fan: Full Circle Farms(fullcirclefarm.com), and Blue Bird Grain Farms(bluebirdgrainfarms.com). The premise is that these farms coordinate with buyers and communities to bring us the freshest, local organic products-think milkman-resulting in the farms gaining more exposure to the community and the community benefiting from the fresh product being delivered to their doorstep!
For me it's a bit like my birthday every Wednesday-I get to open my big waxed corrugated box and luxuriate in the chard, beets, snap peas and yes, peaches! This afternoon will find me pillaging the monthly delivery from Blue Bird Grain Farms where I do believe I am going to find a lovely package of rye flour...mmmmm. Rye sourdough bread tomorrow! Perhaps a turkey Reuben is in my near future....in love. trish.

Peach, even though it really calls for pear, Upside Down Cake
(my alterations in parenthesis)

1 c blanched almonds (1 c toasted whole skin-on almonds)
2/3 c all purp flour (2/3 c BBGF white whole wheat cake flour)
2 t baking powder
6 T butter, room temp (6 T olive oil)
1 c sugar (2/3 c sucanat-I also added 1/2 t almond extract)
2 eggs
1/2 c fresh orange juice
2 anjou pears, cored and sliced 1/4" (2 ripe peaches, pitted and sliced 1/4")
2 T butter, (1 T olive oil)
3 T brown sugar (2 T agave nectar)
If using pears, place 2 T butter and 3 T brown sugar in a skillet and allow to melt and caramelize( 2 min). Layer pears over this caramel and brown (4 min).
Both recipes begin here-While pears caramelize pulse almonds in a food processor until the consistency of bread crumbs. All flour and baking powder and pulse to blend. Set this mix aside in a small bowl. Again using the food processor, blend butter and sugar until smooth. Add eggs until light and fluffy. In halves, add flour mixture and orange juice until dough is formed. Spiral pears or peaches in a buttered 9" cake pan. If peaches, over them pour the oil/agave blend. Spread dough over fruit layer and bake at 350 degrees for 45 minutes. Turn out onto plate and allow to cool or serve warm with vanilla ice cream.

guest room

I've never had a guest room before. When visitors would come to stay the boys got condensed into each others rooms to make pillow space for the temporary bodies. I've acquired one this summer. Furniture is being rearranged, carpets deep cleaned, windows washed in this hollowed out space. It's beginning to look like a blank slate rather than a vacuous hole that is missing its true substance. Where are the football jerseys?! Where are the tossed wrappers, dirty clothes and discarded golf cleats?!

It's not a pretty place; I am having trouble establishing a personality for the space. I can't seem to get myself around cleaning away the red, panther pride wall color or the collection of Jolt cans on the shelf. Three walls remain pristine in their boring bland white. The alchemy of teenager and visitor worthy space is still in process.

But there is definitely some pleasure in this creating. In the cleaning out corners, dusting desk tops and lying on the floor gazing at the ceiling in this uninhabited region of my cozy home I feel warm joy seep into my cells. God has a plan. The world carries a guidance system. I trust the enfolding of a life; touched by the unfolding of others' lives-fleetingly or forever-to take one where the path leads. And, creating a space in an empty 10'x12', envisioning its use in the coming years, blissfully musing my eternally positive thoughts for the future, brings me peace in the changing of life. I think I will come to enjoy my room for a guest~ in love. trish

zen quiet

I am painting now a days. Lots and lots of painting. With wax, with tar, with plaster, with oil, with glue, with fire. Painting. All this painting is being punctuated by regular dusting, organizing, scrubbing, pulling baby beets from my 4'x10' garden plot and mowing my lawn of similar dimensions. Yet mostly painting and painting and painting. Just as I desired my days to enfold this summer: To fall gently into the peace of not being beckoned to fill a belly or find clean socks. After the first day of stabbing anxiety at the emptiness in this change to alone, I have found the zen that has been suggested exists in the acceptance of quiet.

Waking at 4am to plug in the palette, organize the papers, listen to the bird chirp and sip the coffee. Eating lunch over an arrangement of carving tools and watching the sun set while hitting firing up the propane torch. Doing, seeing, acting, feeling, being-just as I want. Just as I need. Just as I feel. Selfish. Entirely, self indulgently selfish. Yet, accepting this and simply moving with it is giving me so much learning, so much feeling, so much accepting and so much love. Recognizing the value in alone; and the deep necessary value of every rich, difficult, blessed, challenging bit of life. in love. trish

sharing

Today I made my favorite biscotti. These have been in my recipe file for many years; a zeroxed copy that no longer reflects its origins. I am a big fan of black licorice. When I go for candy now a days, it's either dark chocolate with almonds or coconibs, or black licorice. It follows then that I would have a soft spot (no pun!) for anise seed anything!

Not long ago I found out a far away friend has similiar weaknesses; her's joined by an infinitely stronger love of biscotti as well! It just goes to follow that, as she embarks on a life change-a path I am all too familiar with, that my desire to walk with her and help hold her up as she treds along the unchartered path, that I do what I can at this moment and make her anise seed biscotti :)

From the mixing bowl, to the oven then gently packed into a priority mail shipping box. With loving care and delicious indulgence I hold her hand. in love. trish

Hazelnut anise seed biscotti

(my alterations in parenthesis)

4 egg whites

1/2 c sugar (1/3 c sucanat)

3 egg yolks

3/4 c sugar (2/3 c agave nectar)

1/4 lb butter, melted and cooled (1/2 c olive oil)

1 T lemon zest (2 T lemon zest)

2 T lemon juice

1 1/2 t anise seed (3 t anise seed)

2 t vanilla

3 1/2-4 1/2c flour (ww flour)

1 1/4 c whole almonds

1 c whole hazelnuts

3/4t baking powder

1/4 t salt

Beat egg whites until stiff. Gradually beat in the 1/2 c sugar. In separarte bowl, beat egg yolks with the 3/4 c sugar. Carefully fold in egg whites.

Mix the next five ingredients together. Fold into egg mixture. Mix flour, , nuts, baking powder and salt in a separate bowl. Stir into egg batter in fourths, adding more flour if needed, so dough is stiff but not sticky.

Divide dough into 4 equal parts. Form each into 3"x12" rectangles about 1/2" high. Bake on buttered baking sheet 30 minutes at 350 degrees. Remove to cutting board and slice diagonally in 1/2" widths to form traditionally shaped biscotti. Raise heat to 400 degrees and bake, sliced side down, for 5-10 minutes until lightly browned.

wearing the right fit

I find that I get better at standing in my own shoes the more I do it. Makes perfect sense, I know, but let me explain. For most of my life I've trod the path of others-in borrowed shoes if you will. I never realized they were shoes on loan; I thought I was wearing my true fit when I was taking steps in them. But in bits and pieces over the years I began to feel that missteps and stumbles along my life's path weren't happening because I had made an incorrect choice but rather because I was trying to make someone else's shoes fit my form. My feet, my soul, was trying to move me on the path true to it while the shoes I was wearing were trying to keep me pointed in the direction they had laid for me. A clashing of finality occurred nearly six years ago now and the ability for the two forces to coexist on this one set of ten toes became definitively impossible. The stumbles and missteps of previous years came back to me for what they were-attempts by my true soul to carry me instead of the borrowed imposter's. Sometimes it takes a sledge hammer to the side of the head to come to this realization and send the borrowed, incorrectly fit sneakers flying off one's feet. Sometimes one is gifted with the ability to chose and wear the perfect fit from birth.

Little stumbles and missteps still occur today, two years after complete assimilation to this true set of walking shoes designed just for me. But the stumbles are recognizable as my own misguided steps and I am quick to take notice, listen and realign the direction the toes are pointed.

To come to be wearing my size as I have-after being directed by a surrogate set for so long-the walking now a days has a brightness, an intensity and passion in each and every moment that still stands to astound me. Awake. Smiling and fueled by life. in love. trish

tapestry and textiles

creations in wax. back to the fabric love:)

in love. trish