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| A light, lemony vegan pasta salad. |
To speak about something as prosaic as pasta salad seems downright odd to me. I mean. It's just a pasta salad. It's something I tossed together with stuff I had on hand. I hadn't planned on it. I didn't spend days contemplating the ins and outs and quirks of gluten-free brown rice penne. In fact, if I'm being unabashedly honest here (and I am- sometimes to a fault, I know) I rarely think about food at all. Until I'm hungry. Until those familiar, nagging pangs begin gnawing their pesky little way into my consciousness, distracting me from my preferred nomenclature- which rarely includes anything edible.
I daydream about paint, the plight of bees, and Clint Mansell's score for Moon. I notice the temperature of light and the curve of negative space against an object. I think about expectations and illusions and perceptions. I ponder where my soul is taking me, tugging at me to pay attention to my life, inviting me through dreams and the random snippets of music or ideas or theories that skitter and skate and ripple the mental stream I wade in day after day, to consider time itself- if I believe in it- sliding by in a cool constant flow of now.
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