Lost within the expanse of the sea; maddened flesh now carrion and hands clenched to the last of my sanity. Yet a light emerges and, consumed with hope, I travel towards it.
What I find is not light, but fire and smoke pouring from the doors of Leviathan’s mouth. A creature formidable in both strength and grace. Nothing on earth could be it’s equal; without fear, without weakness.Yet it spoke to me with gentle words and in its glistening wake the sea became a pot of ointment.
An exercise in non-edible culinary practice. This – you’ll no doubt be pleased to know – is just a short little post that considers the entities of food and light in such a broad sense that it’s in danger of being credited as a newly discovered ocean. Anyway, here goes… Recently, the very concept of light entered my brain in relation to artistic practise. It is a concept taken for granted as light is fundamental to even instigate practice in the first place. As with all newly