Last night my girlfriends and I went to see the new Julia Roberts film "Eat, Pray, Love."
Well, we certainly got the "eat" portion of the movie. The gorgeous scenes in Rome involved not only hot Italian lovers and ancient ruins but plates and plates of Italian food. And who doesn't love Italian food? I can't remember the last time my stomach growled that loudly in a movie theatre. Luckily, one of my friends had smuggled in a box of crackers and we devoured it in the dark like ravenous forest animals. The eating continued afterwards, when we met our husbands for dinner and proceeded to eat and drink our way through the rest of the evening. It was as if the waiter gave us the menu and we gave it right back with a resounding "yes, please" to everything on it. Every time I looked up from my plate, another dish was being served, and I went to bed full for the first time in weeks.
My appetite is back. Thank you, Julia.
Little by little I'm becoming my old self again. I can sit with a memory of my Mom now and let the sadness wash over me without having my day completely ruined. It's a moment here, a moment there. Food has always been a passion, and the last two weeks were completely empty of that feeling. Last night I had that passion and for a few hours I felt complete.
Today I made a conscious effort to do the things that make me whole, the things that make me happy. Basically I tried really hard to be me, or maybe the me I used to know. And this is what happened.
I found a tattered map of my old hood:
|That's right. It's Brooklyn, baby.|
And tried to come up with some ideas for a kick-ass crafty project. I decided to sew the streets on one of my infamous brown bags and began to mark a pattern onto the material:
|An awl and a pin tool are my favorite tools.|
I'm not finished and I don't know what it will be. But it makes me happy to work with a piece of my personal history:
|It's, uh, getting there...|
I also took my daughter to the green market in Union Square for some fresh fruit noshing:
|That's Masana's blue nail polish. This photo is washed out,|
but the raspberries were a deep red. And very yummy. I swear!
And I made tostadas for dinner using tomatoes and peppers from our garden:
|Ground beef is from my cow share and corn is from the green market. |
Recipe is my own, but one that emulates Mr. Taco in New Roc.
Folks, I give you Mrs. Taco.
And this is what I'll do tomorrow morning--well, minus the pained expression and all that clothing:
|What's wrong with my hands??|
I'm inspired to go on my own journey for a little spiritual healing. But I won't be eating, praying, or loving in Italy, India or Bali. I'll be staying right where I am and re-tracing my steps from a not too distant past.
I will be eating, crafting, and running in New York. And who knows, maybe I'll even read a book.
|Sophie Dahl's Playing With Grown Ups. |
To my friend in the UK: I promise to finish this really soon. xxoxR