One of the first seasons I had a garden my parents were visiting and Dad offered to help weed. He went at it with his usual unique structure and pulled out my lemon grass and leeks as they did not fit his categories of home grown kitchen material. Most likely his intention, I never asked him to help again. I continued on my own weedy culinary path of flavors amidst the backyard patch. One way I have defined myself is through my garden and it's rhythmic seasons of hope. I find daily inspiration in the flowers, vegetables, and leaves that I pick. I experience tenacity in the weeds. I look for relationships of curves and the way one thing sits on another when I serve food. The garden feeds me and the food feeds my work.
Throwing Away the Alarm Clock
my father always said, "early to bed and
early to rise makes a man healthy, wealthy
and wise."
it was lights out at 8 p.m. in our house
and we were up at dawn to the smell of
coffee, frying bacon and scrambled
eggs.
my father followed this general routine
for a lifetime and died young, broke,
and, I think, not too
wise.
taking note, I rejected his advice and it
became, for me, late to bed and late
to rise.
now, I'm not saying that I've conquered
the world but I've avoided
numberless early traffic jams, bypassed some
common pitfalls
and have met some strange, wonderful
people
one of who
was
myself-someone my father
never
knew.
--Charles Bukowski
Throwing Away the Alarm Clockmy father always said, "early to bed and
early to rise makes a man healthy, wealthy
and wise."
it was lights out at 8 p.m. in our house
and we were up at dawn to the smell of
coffee, frying bacon and scrambled
eggs.
my father followed this general routine
for a lifetime and died young, broke,
and, I think, not too
wise.
taking note, I rejected his advice and it
became, for me, late to bed and late
to rise.
now, I'm not saying that I've conquered
the world but I've avoided
numberless early traffic jams, bypassed some
common pitfalls
and have met some strange, wonderful
people
one of who
was
myself-someone my father
never
knew.
--Charles Bukowski
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