When I write, paint, play guitar or cook I stand back and think there is always room for improvement. I'm usually never happy with what I do and long for artistic super powers. I write like a teenager, paint like a child, I NEVER want to learn bar chords, and constantly think my cooked food could have been made better and faster.
Hands have been on the brain lately. The saying, "The greatest tools God gave us," is swirling in my mind. When I look at them, they're slightly chubby, long fingers, non-manicured with hang nails, tiny cuts and light brown spots from oil splatter burns. I have two birthmarks on the left and one on the right. I was told once by an Indian guy who was in my line at the Japanese take out place where I worked; that birthmarks on the hands suggest that I must love to write, or paint or some other art form. As if I was born with the ink flowing from my hands. I was dumbfounded. I think I said, "Uh yeah. I like to write." Satisfied with his observation, he smiled, took his teriyaki bowl and wished me a good day.
I started painting a skeleton hand yesterday against a black background. My idea was to convey a Hispanic's struggle; having died for an unattainable dream. I painted the words "faith," "help," "gospel," in Spanish into various bones but then I hated it. I stared at it for a long time. Who was I to try and paint such events when I myself haven't experienced them? My grandmother has, so had my mother but I couldn't even begin to channel that into this painting. Mechanic hubby said, "Who cares, it looks cool." But I couldn't bring myself to finish it.
This is how I'm feeling today.
Refried Beans Fake-Out (Fresh beans from "de la olla" or from the pot are best but if you don't have time....)
1 can of refried beans
1/2 cup of shredded cheese
1/4 cup of milk
1/4 cup homemade salsa
Heat the beans in a skillet. Add milk and stir. Add cheese and salsa, stir to combine. Serve hot.