This is an unpublished post from Summer of 2016. Katie went in September. I'm not sure why I didn't publish it then, or why I should now. Just looked at old drafts. Six years. Feels like two previous lives ago....at least. Yes: God is always good. Yes: I'm still convinced he drinks.
Compared to the alchemy of the darkroom, juicing is just raw industrial-grade mechanical work. It's about like mixing darkroom chemicals. You have to do this to do that. I hunt and gather the raw vegetables from the stores I shop, looking for ones with some inside secret, but I've seen enough modern farming practices that even the "organic" labels merely indicate I'm about to pay more just to have bug legs in the Kale.
Still, you have to be organized to be an artist, so I lay out the ingredients for one concoction or another and a sharp knife and I start feeding them into the chipper. I'm currently wearing out a mid-priced juicer with a good reputation, but I can hear the bearings and see the wear on the blades and crush surfaces. It sings no discernible song, just a soul-less post-modern whine.
But this is the fight I'm in and these are the weapons at hand. Katie has a taste for this or a taste for that and I was more amazed than she was when I took over the kitchen.
I didn't ask for any of this. Katie fighting her life out on the couch and me hither and yon like a frenzied dueling second. I make lists, I rub feet, I peel drug patches, I move the dog, I do laundry, I toss out garbage, I clean toilets, I detect fevers. I juice. I live to serve this ship, but it's not a voyage I would choose on my own. Every once in a while someone among our amazing group of support people will ask how I am doing. As if it matters. Who cares? I certainly don't. When it's over there will be time, (because humans always think they have time), to de-scale myself of whatever armor or attachments I've acquired. In the meantime a terrific commission from the Tyler Art Museum and a few shows here and there are keeping me searching. Plus my devotion to Katie and our little household up here on the Blackfork. I may blanch and I may blink, but I am not going to let my foot be moved or my service diminish.
I can't seem to find a Biblical verse that applies. My favorites involve wastelands and wandering. Early Job. Genesis. Exodus. I'd prefer something about traversing the valley of death, without fear, because I am armed to the teeth. Or something about God being good, REALLY good........but he drinks, see?....and there just isn't that line anywhere to be found. Like with most everything, its in there but has to be teased out.
I'd regarded juicing as a vanity. (Why not just EAT the vegetable?) Experience is revealing a little more of the interplay and subtleties of mixing flavors and textures. As the mixture goes through the juicer and then filters into the jar for the refrigerator I keep up with the ingredients fresh off the mesh. I hadn't understood apple sauce, (basically a by-product apparently of...juice.), and certainly hadn't tasted it fresh, much less with a touch of ginger or jalapeño infused. Lately I've taken to throwing in a beet or a plum just to get them as an undertone to the main taste. Anything stuck in the filter usually gets fingered up just to monitor the process. Always interesting stuff. Maybe this IS healthy and good for you. Have a sip of carrot and ginger, you T-cells, then go and KICK some molecular K-RAST ass.
The maintainence of the whole catastrophe is a drudge, like painting or chopping wood. Nobody is eager to do it, but when you are finished there a sense of satisfaction. Then just like mowing a lawn, you have to do it again.
Killing Gaia, of course. Electricity and manufacturing and garbage bags and paper towels and water flow and soap. Thank god for modern life.
And probably it will add some inflection to art-making. I'm searching with silver and lens and light for visions never before seen in nature or culture. Maybe some collision of kale and celery will help get a foothold to see the next thing.
Still, you have to be organized to be an artist, so I lay out the ingredients for one concoction or another and a sharp knife and I start feeding them into the chipper. I'm currently wearing out a mid-priced juicer with a good reputation, but I can hear the bearings and see the wear on the blades and crush surfaces. It sings no discernible song, just a soul-less post-modern whine.
But this is the fight I'm in and these are the weapons at hand. Katie has a taste for this or a taste for that and I was more amazed than she was when I took over the kitchen.
I didn't ask for any of this. Katie fighting her life out on the couch and me hither and yon like a frenzied dueling second. I make lists, I rub feet, I peel drug patches, I move the dog, I do laundry, I toss out garbage, I clean toilets, I detect fevers. I juice. I live to serve this ship, but it's not a voyage I would choose on my own. Every once in a while someone among our amazing group of support people will ask how I am doing. As if it matters. Who cares? I certainly don't. When it's over there will be time, (because humans always think they have time), to de-scale myself of whatever armor or attachments I've acquired. In the meantime a terrific commission from the Tyler Art Museum and a few shows here and there are keeping me searching. Plus my devotion to Katie and our little household up here on the Blackfork. I may blanch and I may blink, but I am not going to let my foot be moved or my service diminish.
I can't seem to find a Biblical verse that applies. My favorites involve wastelands and wandering. Early Job. Genesis. Exodus. I'd prefer something about traversing the valley of death, without fear, because I am armed to the teeth. Or something about God being good, REALLY good........but he drinks, see?....and there just isn't that line anywhere to be found. Like with most everything, its in there but has to be teased out.
I'd regarded juicing as a vanity. (Why not just EAT the vegetable?) Experience is revealing a little more of the interplay and subtleties of mixing flavors and textures. As the mixture goes through the juicer and then filters into the jar for the refrigerator I keep up with the ingredients fresh off the mesh. I hadn't understood apple sauce, (basically a by-product apparently of...juice.), and certainly hadn't tasted it fresh, much less with a touch of ginger or jalapeño infused. Lately I've taken to throwing in a beet or a plum just to get them as an undertone to the main taste. Anything stuck in the filter usually gets fingered up just to monitor the process. Always interesting stuff. Maybe this IS healthy and good for you. Have a sip of carrot and ginger, you T-cells, then go and KICK some molecular K-RAST ass.
The maintainence of the whole catastrophe is a drudge, like painting or chopping wood. Nobody is eager to do it, but when you are finished there a sense of satisfaction. Then just like mowing a lawn, you have to do it again.
Killing Gaia, of course. Electricity and manufacturing and garbage bags and paper towels and water flow and soap. Thank god for modern life.
And probably it will add some inflection to art-making. I'm searching with silver and lens and light for visions never before seen in nature or culture. Maybe some collision of kale and celery will help get a foothold to see the next thing.
