Yesterday I opened a canteloupe, wonderful scent, and wondered what seasoning to use. Ginger's a popular choice but though I love ginger , the combination with canteloupe tastes exactly like soap, so I looked further.
Three candidates, amchur, which is dried mango powder, citrusy but not for people allergic to mango rind, sumac, a different kind of citrusy, given to me by a terrific cook who was amazed I didn't have any, and za'atar, a freebie with my last tea order, warm mixture, cinnamon, nutmeg, other good things. Went in the end with amchur.
You will instantly note that the alphabetic organizing of my spices, I have quite a few, doesn't serve me well here. A and S and Z, three different shelves, fumbling, knocking bottles off the lazy susans.
I wondered, briefly, let's not get carried away here, if I could organize by function instead.
Then realized that, if the permutations of the drops before and after eye surgery nearly defeated me, I'd need a spreadsheet to organize the spices in families by food affinities. Maybe I'll just take up quadratic equations as a hobby for my declining years, instead.
Which reminds me of the joke about the artist and the brain surgeon. Artists on the whole, who know what it takes to make and exhibit art, the focus, persistence, sheer energy required to create even apparently "simple" work, do get a bit tired of people saying ooh, an easy life really. I fancy taking it up in retirement.
So the brain surgeon at a party says this to the artist, could have been me, not saying, and the artist says "Funny you should mention it. I'm ready to retire to an easier life. I've been thinking of taking up brain surgery." Bitter but accurate.
Other people's work does tend to look easy to onlookers, such as the nice people, during my pet care business years who said, "I'd love to have your job, playing with animals all day long".
Well, if you don't count the coping with the humans, the pets were easier, and the seven day a week out before dawn on early dog walking rounds, all weathers, at least 15 miles daily walking, three rounds, much driving, busy times ending after 10pm, and that's only the start. I did love it, and was happy though tired, but I wouldn't confuse it with playing all day!
This is true of practically any work, not seeking the moral high ground here. Except for those "artists" known to a lot of us actual artists, who do our own work stem to stern, the people who sketch out what they want done, then hire (poorly paid, and uncredited) artisans to execute the artworks.
Ellen pointed this out elsewhere, spot on. I know a few, usually male sculptors, who put their name on a piece with no acknowledgement of the actual artists who created it from, in one case I know of, stick figure drawings.
One person I know personally actually bragged that he only spoke the concept then looked in now and then to see its progress.
Now I understand about collaboration, I've done it, where artists work together, put their names to finished work, and that's perfectly fine. What l don't appreciate is the suppression of the credit and sale share to people who actually did the work.
I've known of gifted local modelers at a metal foundry, a wealthy local man's property, working up the shapes for his bronze casting, at $9 , that is not a typo, per hour.
It's where a rich man buys a reputation as an artist. Not so good. I know a woman famous for her art quilts, where the execution was an important part of the success of the concepts.
I was talking with her, unaware of this, admired how her execution worked flawlessly. She looked a bit flustered then said, well I have an assistant for that.
I asked what her name was, couldn't see it anywhere, and she got angry and pretty much flounced away.
I'd blundered into this, never thinking that there could be any joy in pretending to make art that you just jobbed out like a contractor. The "I have people for that" approach.
So do look out to see that makers of large pieces credit the skilled team behind them. Good ones will.
That's one of the traditions I love in old edition prints. On every one they credit the artist who drew the original work, and the engraver who transferred it to the plate, sometimes the artist was also the engraver, and the printmaker who pulled the prints. All skilled work, a team, to create great prints. Rembrandt never pretended he'd done it all. I do like artists who make like Rembrandt. Credit to the team if there is one.
It follows in other parts of life, too. Important to credit the people who keep our personal little red wagon trundling along. The spouse, the child carer, the cleaning crew at home if you have them, and work, the lunchroom ladies, the deli worker, the chambermaid in your motel, hotel. There's an army in a lot of our lives, often invisible. Heck, do we think to care about the nurses in our doctor's office as people. Yeah, we do if we're nice. That's all the readers in here.
End of unexpected sermon, preaching to the choir, hopping down from the Sunday soapbox now.
Happy day everyone! Enjoy your day, play, work, breathe. That last part is good. I should remember that one when I get all hot under the collar about Wrong Things Happening.
