gallery of roses
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Drinking Chocolate, Verb & Noun
Indira Ganesan, Drinking Chocolate, 2018
Let me try to describe it. You open your mouth to take a taste, but it is like swallowing a thick river. Then you remember to sip, and the maneuver works. It is chocolate, but more so, in a cafe crowded for the weather, customers lined up for “hugs in mugs” ( TM) and hot mocha. I order two thin chocolate lemon peels, thinking of espresso. The taste complements, tart sweet. Actually, that is almost the name of a smoothie here, made with beets, cukes, and more good things. An eleven-year-old in this sweet shop orders it ; bless him.
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Sometimes when the “here” is just right
Indira Ganesan, Silkie Chicks in a Provincetown Storefront window, 2018
It doesn’t always happen, but I was so full of affection for my town recently. The film festival was in town, so that was fun. Saw this, this, and this. And this, this and this. They were all in, in a word, phenomenal. The audience voted for its favorite. One day between films I ate a sundae for dinner, making sure to get my protein and fruit: peanut butter cup ice cream with cacao, I mean hot fudge, and a maraschino cherry. If that wasn’t enough to put a townie in a good mood, then seeing a cluck of chicks in a store window was. Not just any chicks, but Silkie Chicks who frankly look like muppets when grown, or perhaps baby snow owls. John Waters rode by on his bike. Molly Shannon took a bow. And possibly Rachel Maddow was out on a stroll, though, sadly, I would not have recognized her.* It felt perfectly right to be be where I was, in town, watching art films, thinking about the choices one makes in life in pursuit of art and work, and how the world reacts. . Life recedes, but it comes back quickly, with the news.
*before rightly she lost her compusure and breaking down in tears reading about babies kept in cages as required by governmental order. Our government.
Indira Ganesan 