Twelve (more) Gifts: #3 A MOVEABLE FEAST

I had been hosting the family for Thanksgiving in our California home ever since Mom got sick, and after she passed away it became a treasured and time-honored tradition. Our California Thanksgivings were wonderful -- besides all the delicious food (traditional fare with a gourmet twist) we had incorporated a whole weekend of annual activities -- going out to movies, spending an afternoon at the beach, shopping in the garment district in downtown Los Angeles, watching home movies, and even shopping in Tijuana! We lived for those Thanksgiving weekends!

But in the monumental year 2000, I delivered a beautiful but stillborn baby girl -- and I felt like a big part of me died with her.

Just a month later we were making plans for Thanksgiving. My heavy heart wondered if there was any way I could pull off dinner for fifteen, let alone the traditional outings and the day-trip to Mexico. My ever-sensitive younger sister somehow knew there was no way I could host a dinner (and multiple houseguests) that year. And she did something extraordinary.

She started researching restaurants in our area, and found a wonderful little spot in Montrose which offered Thanksgiving take-out in boxed dinners. She ordered a full meal for the five of us, and on Thanksgiving Day we picked up our boxes and drove to a shady little picnic area in Monrovia Canyon. We ate our delicious dinner al fresco, to an enchanting backdrop of breezes and birdsongs, then took a short hike along a lovely trail to a waterfall. It was pure heaven. And it in some ways felt more like a real Thanksgiving — or at least the original Thanksgiving — to be dining so simply outdoors.

That moveable feast is a gift of caring and  thoughtfulness I will never forget. I think of it every year with immense gratitude.

No Ordinary Flower

I remember discovering these lovely purple flowers for the first time. I think I was maybe four years old. The little pinkish-purple flowers were growing outside my grandma's kitchen door. I loved the color! I decided to pick a few and take them in to Grandma. She was ingenious at finding just the right vase for every flower-picking treasure. Imagining its perfume to be as lovely as its brilliant color, I got closer, and took a whiff. Peeyoo! What kind of flower is that?!? I was utterly shocked. Why do these flowers stink? Did God make them this way? I ran inside to ask my grandma.

She just laughed. "Those are chives!" she said. "I cut up the stems and sprinkle them on soups or deviled eggs. Take another whiff and imagine them adding extra flavor to something savory." I wasn't entirely convinced, but I took my grandma's word for it. Let's just say it was an acquired taste.

How many metaphorical chives are there in your life? --Things that appear to stink on the surface, until you find out they have a completely different purpose, nothing like your original mindset.

When I saw these lovely chive blossoms growing in the Herb Garden at Hampton Court, they instantly reminded me of my grandma, and I had to take a picture to paint from, to remember them.

Great news! This painting, Fresh Chives, laced with memories of my grandmother, on display in an upcoming show.  (Don't worry -- it's not scratch and sniff!) "Fresh Chives" is part of my latest series, 100 Days in Europe. #16/100 (84 to go!) I'm really excited about this show, called Small Treasures, opening this weekend. I have 24 small paintings in the show. Most are just 4x10 -- I love this new panoramic format! This is one of my most affordable series, ranging in price from $125 to $210, perfect for gift-giving, and a perfect size to tuck anywhere in your home or office and add some color and light.

Now, of course, I love chives. I cook with them all the time. In fact, they appear in my new cookbook (link at left), in the recipe for Hungarian Chicken and Dumplings, and in the recipe for Almond-Crusted Chicken and Nectarine Salad with Buttermilk-Chive dressing.

--My cookbook is on sale at Art Access too. (Because it's also an art book). Not local? Just give them a call. I'm sure they can work something out.

Art Access230 South 500 West, #125Salt Lake City, UT 84101  801-328-0703

Holding the Sun Hostage

"Holding the Sun Hostage," original watercolor by Jana Winters Parkin, 10 x 14

It was a dark and stormy day. Our bus was held up on a narrow road in the middle of nowhere for 2.5 hours. A motorcyclist rider who was lying in the road after a collision, and no one could traverse the byway until an ambulance arrived. I made half a dozen sketches in my sketchbook while we waited. and waited. and waited. I was suddenly very grateful for healthcare in America, where waiting for an ambulance translates into minutes, not hours. The poor guy on the motorcycle literally could have passed away right there on the pavement. (Fortunately they arrived with a big enough ambulance to transport him to a hospital before that happened!)

Finally we made it to Stonehenge! —Or at least to the point where the buses drop you off, a mile and a half away from Stonehenge. We had been there as a family before. We have great photos of our kids stacked across our shoulders like posts and lintels, in imitation of the giant Stonehenge pillars, memories of our visit there 21 years ago. Yet I was still excited to go back.

When asked if we wanted to wait for a shuttle, or take the footpath to the circle of stones, that was a no-brainer for me! First of all, I'm completely enchanted by footpaths and love to pursue them, beckoned toward wherever they lead. Second, WE'D BEEN SITTING ON A STOPPED BUS FOR 2.5 HOURS! Surprisingly, I was the only one of our group who chose the footpath. 

So I set off on my own, following a light string of strangers down a soggy footpath, up a hill, then cresting across a meadow. Suddenly I desperately wished the rest of my family had come this way! The little  footpath opened alongside a field of rapeseed (the unfortunate British name for Canola), exploding with sunlight!

It was late April in England, and practically every piece of countryside we traversed was covered with these brilliant yellow flowers! Every time I saw them it would take my breath away! And today, on this lonely little footpath, they were all mine for this section of trail. There they were, holding the sun hostage, on a deserted field en route to Stonehenge.

Yes, I made it to the famed circle of prehistoric stones. And yes, I reunited with my family there, who hadn't arrived too far ahead of me. And of course, the rapeseed really was controlling the sun, because once we got to the stones the sky darkened completely. It dumped buckets of rain on us, heightening the sense of mystery surrounding the neolithic wonder! 

But my favorite image of the trip that day was my private showing of yellow rapeseed flowers, a burst of joy holding the sun in its grasp. 

*  *  *  *  *

This is #4 in a series of 100 watercolors based on our 100 days in Europe. See them all by following me on Facebook (Jana Winters Parkin and Jana Parkin Art) and Instagram (@janawparkin and @janaparkinart) and on my art blog (http://www.janaparkin.com/blog/100-days-in-europe). Look for the hashtag #100daysinEurope. You never know where the next painting will show up!

#100daysinEurope #stonehenge #rapeseed #watercolor