Perhaps my grandmother associated artists with radicals, and her desire for country club social compatibility prevented her from using the title. Maybe she associated "women with something to say" with the bra burning Gloria Steinhem types of her children's generation. Or perhaps she never learned that she could define herself. Maybe she was waiting for somebody to vote her in to the artist club, some magic art authority to tap her on the nose with a wand and say "you my dear, are an artist. You may now refer to yourself as such".
Christina has a friend who worked in an art gallery. One day the man noticed a crowd of people had gathered around a crumpled up piece of paper on the floor, they were discussing the meaning of the paper and the artists intention in putting it there. The man, noticing that it was nothing more than a flier that had been thrown on the floor, picked up the piece of trash and threw it in the garbage. The crowd quickly realized that they had been appreciating a piece of paper, and dispersed back to the walls.
Take the liberty to find meaning wherever meaning finds you. Appreciate the pieces of paper, the sculpted gnomes, the creamy dressings, the velvet bows, the intricate drawings, and the wonderful artists in your life.
3 small cloves extra spicy purple garlic
2 Tbsp buttermilk
1/2 cup whole yogurt
1 slice red onion
1 tsp salad vinegar
1 handful dill
5-6 leaves mint
1/4 tsp salt
1/2 tsp black pepper
blend all ingredients in a mini Cuisinart
Wash and dice 2-3 cups fresh farmers market spinach. While rinsing, notice how it smells like fresh cut grass and recall swinging your legs from a swing set: that feeling of leaning back and losing yourself in the blue and white sky.
Add 1-2 cups fresh local snap peas. Remember how you used to eat them out of the carton the minute your mom got home from the store.
Add 2-3 cups diced purple cabbage.
Add 1/2 an English cucumber diced
garnish with avocado drizzled with lemon juice
Christina's vote: "This salad filled my palate with beautiful color"