The little Indian eggplants still interest me. I love their color, shape and sizes. Unfortunately, by the time I finish with them, they may be past their prime of freshness. Maybe I will make baba ghanouj with them tomorrow.
I found these small eggplants at a grocery store in Chicago and couldn't resist their beautiful color and size, conveniently fitting in a blue bowl. I tried to research why they are called Indian eggplant, but found no good answer. In India and some other countries, eggplant are called brinjal and is widely used in Indian cuisine. I thought it was interesting to note that so many cultures have popular eggplant dishes--Greek and Turkish moussakka, French ratatouille, Italian eggplant parmesan, Arabic baba ghanough. My mother-in-law made the world's best eggplant parmesan.
I also thought this was interesting information from Wikipedia: "Botanically classified as a berry, the fruit contains numerous small, soft seeds which, though edible, taste bitter because, as a relative of tobacco, they contain nicotinoidalkaloids." hmmm....
Yikes. I just realized I painted this once before, but I thought I was painting a different view. I guess you can paint the same thing several times and the paintings will never be exactly the same.
To me, the onions look like they are at odds, perhaps there was a misunderstanding.
I put off painting asparagus but it seemed to be the only vegetable we had around that I hadn't painted. It was a little challenging, but I would like to try again. This is a new blue bowl, the smallest of them all. My husband named this painting.
I originally had a different title picked out for this painting, but changed my mind at the last minute.
These "on the vine" tomatoes are so perfect and uniform in size and shape that it certainly raises my suspicion. In the middle of winter, tomatoes are almost always a disappointment.
Today I visited with a gallery owner I know and while I was there, a very disheveled looking man--- a presumably unlikely gallery visitor---with several plastic grocery shopping bags entered the gallery, removed his shoes, and approached the owner. She greeted him by name and went to the back room where she retrieved a bag, and handed it to him. There was a nice, yet short conversation, which included him telling a joke. He thanked her, and then left.
The lesson that I already knew but was reinforced today is "Don't judge a book by its cover." Turns out this man is an art junkie, and spends a LOT of money in her gallery each year.
What followed was a discussion of how people discriminate against one
another because of appearances or other perceived differences. It was a
very nice visit with the gallery owner today, as usual.
I am reminded of an experience I had at another art gallery several months ago. I went expressly to see an exhibit of still lifes, and was barely acknowledged by the gallery attendant when I entered and when I asked a question about a painting. At the end of my visit, she was rude and dismissed me when I asked a question about the process for acquiring new artists. I felt so terrible when I left that gallery that I don't want to go back.
I am delighted to report that with this painting, I have officially relocated my studio from the basement ("The Dungeon") where I painted without a window, to the attic " Penthouse." Today is the first day I painted there. A dear friend helped me haul and reorganize and it is a dream space, freshly painted, heated, carpets cleaned, and with a real window and a bathroom. What more could I ask for?
My garden club held it's annual Chinese Tea Tasting on Saturday with 80 people attending. Our centerpieces for the tables included a moss ball with jade plant, rocks, and a single cymbidium orchid. Each stem of the orchid has approximately 15-20 flowers, which are exquisite. I am enjoying the few that didn't sell and couldn't resist placing one in my still life.