Our
youngest daughter, Tired of Being Youngest, recently started culinary school,
which means that we're eating a lot better these days. It's not so much that
she's doing a lot of experimenting on us -- most nights she's home late and
doing book homework -- but on weekends she creates, and I watch. Then, during
the week, I copy.
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We don't have to look gentle and patient to exhibit
some of these characteristics. Queen
Anne's Lace by Steve Henderson.
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This last week I made roux (pronounced
"roo," like the Winnie the Pooh character) -- a flour/butter
concoction that you gently and patiently stir over low heat until it turns
nutty brown. Added to soup, it transforms lunch into something decadently
divine.
Now I've known about roux for years but never made
it -- that "gently and patiently" part always tripped me up. But it
wasn't until I tasted what it does to tomato soup, thanks to one of those
weekend practice sessions of our daughter's, that I realized what I've been
missing all these years. Surely, I could be gentle and patient for 15 minutes.
That's soup. What about oil painting?
I'm willing to bet that there's a product or oil
painting art technique or method that has been kicking around in the back of
your mind for years, but you haven't tried it because of, well, that
"gentle and patient" part.
"It can't make that much of a difference"
you tell yourself, and don't do it again.
You may be right -- it might not make much of a
difference at all. Or, you may be missing out on something -- like a truly
delectable, complex tomato soup -- and not know it.
Why not give it a try? Go ahead -- doux it. What's
that fine art oil painting process you have a feeling could enhance your
process? Leave me a comment and let me know, and then go do it and report back!
--Carolyn