Dear Readers...

What do art and food have in common?

Transformation.

Both practices take from the earth and

express a shared human consciousness.

And as our world becomes digital,

it also becomes a smaller network that ties us closer together than ever before in history.

How does ancient knowledge, that holds itself rooted in place and handcraft,

fit into this increasingly self-reflective invisible network?

These recipes and stories are

my response and celebration of

both the local and the global,

its beginnings and

it's transformations into

what we often take for granted.

It all begins with a hearth.

Whether our associations to this concept are of the first use of fire and the beginning of civilization, or the core of the planet that creates the circumstances for raw materials like iron and coal, or as a microwave where you heat up your frozen dinner.

All of this embodies harnessed chaos, fires that destroy our forests and heat our homes.

My first experience with hearth was electric heaters that I dropped cheerios into captivated by the toasted smell it produced. In my childhood I was known to fall asleep in front of fireplaces and spend hours staring into the lapsing whisps, enraptured. It heated our home at Christmas and it almost burned down my first apartment.

As I learned to cook at around 10 years old, I was drawn into what would become an obsession and later a profession:

harnessed heat that provides nourishment and community.

My former companion would joke 15 years later that I would rather go to a farmer’s market than a jewelry store.

It is true and to this day I am more interested in

the cycles of life and its dispersion than I am of glamor, idolatry, and power.

It was visions of lapsing fire that met me in my dreams during my darkest confrontations in the cruelty life has to offer.

Cradled in the wings of a flashing phoenix, warmed and in awe, I was more fearful of falling than the danger of the fire surrounding me.

I baked my days and anxieties away; I drew the world I hoped would exist someday.

Transformation has been my refuge.

Tattooed on my chest are phoenix wings a constant reminder to myself and the world that resilience is strength, that confrontation and anger are only expressions of fear.

I dreamed of fire within me, bursting out of me, a symbol of my passion. I sewed them shut for years, constraining myself to expectations of achievement and success.

Now, dear readers,

I have shed my former skin straight through the middle and stand before you a harnessed hearth myself.

SunRise_IllustratedPoem_OaCH23.small.jpeg

Transformation is what led me on my journey as an artist and later to study materials themselves.

From the ages of 5 years old to 18, these transformations took the form of characters that I played in local theaters and school productions. My hair during those years changed from brown to bright red to pink and blonde and blue; I was addicted to human interaction based on preconceived assumption and blowing it up like PANG.

Costumes, theatrical design, fashion design and performance art all seemed like normal progressions of this interest.

Music, writing and drawing stuck to my bones and held me to the ground as I branched out in a million directions.

Creativity lives in my bones.

As I have grown older creation has given way to depth and observation.

I imagine this is a common experience when life starts to fleet under your feet, we teach lessons to another generation, and the finite limits of our time on this planet bear their weight.

Either way, I am bewildered the more I learn. From color theory, I have learned about infinity despite restricted scope. How endless hues and combinations can exist though all we see is a tiny amount of how light exists and interacts around us.

For example, some animals use colors that are as hard to conceive of as a fourth dimension.

Or that when we see a color like red, that red bounces off of the object and the object itself absorbs every other color, primarily its opposite, green. It’s like the whole world is inverted.

Or that bird feathers are only colorful because of their shape; they are actually translucent and are the few artifacts in textile that can hold color indefinitely.

Now I am totally going to

blow your mind:

The red in your lipstick is made from beetles

The blue in your jeans is made from composted leaves

The pigment black has only existed for less than 5 years

Leaves are only green because of photosynthesis, their “color” is yellow, orange, brown or red.

There are pigments made from urine, mummies, and arsenic.

You can draw with pollution.

Lead was a common cosmetic that ate away people’s skin in the name of beauty.

Charcoal is made from branches, and Ochre from iron. These were the first materials used by humans to depict the world on cave walls.

Drinks can be made from bread.

Cows could help save the planet, but they are killing it now.

Avocados are more valuable than selling drugs.

Plants have friends and enemies. They also make decisions.

Trees control rodent populations using nut production.

Apples and pears are related to roses.

And kiwis grow on vines.

There is a lot to learn about this world and I want to find out more.

Maybe you want to join me on this journey…

But first it’s time to eat and create.

Dig in!

<3 OaCH