Weaponizing Race

By: Gabriela Yareliz

This is probably not a spiel you are used to, so hear me out:

Today, I witnessed a disturbing thing on a playground. Let me set up the scene: It was a new playground, with a very cool and unique swing. There was only one of these swings, and two sisters were on the swing, constantly. They monopolized it. The sisters were girls of color (this is an important detail, and that is the only reason why I am being specific).

Many kids waited for a turn on this one unique swing, but they often walked away disappointed because the girls on the swing would taunt them, would stick their tongues out and tell them to go away and were essentially bullying other children away from the swing. These girls were taller and appeared to be older than the other children.

A young boy and his sister (both white) wanted to go on this swing, and when the mother of the two sisters, who were monopolizing the swing, came to check on them, they made up a story that the young boy and his sister had cursed them out. That didn’t happen. I was watching the entire time. The young boy and his sister had waited patiently, and they had even twirled in place, like little nerds, as they waited, with high hopes, to ride the swing.

The young boy and his sister got a turn on the swing, but the bullying girls were upset they were forced to give up the swing, so they told their father the young boy had called them the “N-Word”.

At this point, I was like you have got to be kidding me. I wanted to get involved, but then, the accused children’s father finally showed up.

Observations from me (a woman of color– so don’t come at me like I don’t know what is going on here):

1. This issue wouldn’t have occurred had the parents actually been watching what was going on with their children. WATCH YOUR KIDS!

2. The young black girls were bullying other children, and when they didn’t get what they wanted, they tried to hurt the children and retaliate by lying. What was worse was that they used their race and weaponized it. As someone who has experienced genuine racism, this is just disgusting. These girls lied and said innocent kids they had bullied had used a racial slur on them.

I hope that parents everywhere will pay attention and not raise entitled children who instead of empowering their race, choose to weaponized it. This was horrible, and if this is the world we are creating and the children we are raising, then man, we people of color need to do a better job. That world is no better than the world of white privilege and oppression.

Racism is real and it stings, however lying about it should never be used as a weapon to your advantage. Lying about anything should never be used to your advantage. It will always be wrong, and what happened today on the playground seems to be a reflection of so many larger and publicized issues in the news, lately (Jussie Smollett).

Where have integrity and honesty landed? I am asking because I really don’t see it around here, in any color.

Spring

By: Gabriela Yareliz

Somehow, I ended up in that train car. It’s one I seldom end up on. It’s the one that starts in the Upper East Side and goes to Brooklyn filled with young, hip, beautiful people.

You have the friends who are chatty and distracted, standing at the poll, giggling every time they almost fall. They are the ones who laugh when they miss their stop. There is the model looking girl with her Zara bags and phone glow on her falsies, as she is glued to her phone when we enter the dark tunnel.

The cool girl with the natural hair, with the military green jacket and Louis Vuitton satchel, the want-to-be athletic ones that wear their athleisure to brunch but not to an actual workout, and the international students who switch from Hindi to English, who are having a serious conversation about subway ads.

Even though it’s just as cold as it was a month ago (if not more), people are sticking to the “it’s spring” program. That means wearing shorts, t-shirts under thin minimalist hoodies and those pants that are cropped enough to make your ankles turn blue, despite the spray tan. (Are people seriously not cold?)

Here in NYC, we are forcing spring upon ourselves, at any cost. However, when we sneeze, it’s cold enough to wonder if it’s the flu or allergies.

Seasons are a magical thing, especially when we are in the middle of the transition. (Here, that transition from winter to spring lasts through June).

King Solomon wrote there is a season for everything. Spring, we are ready for you (as you can probably tell by our wardrobe choices). And just as seasons come and go, and there is a rhythm we have learned to expect from nature, though sometimes tainted by predictions from that groundhog that politicians are constantly “accidentally” killing, life has it’s rhythms, growth and transition. There is no point in forcing it, and a date certainly doesn’t magically turn everything into something different. The first day of spring certainly didn’t kill the NYC winter that has us in its arctic grip. But we can certainly prepare for the transition. There is nothing wrong with being ready for more life.

Time trickles by, and the sun comes out. We are called from our rest, darkness and lethargy to sunshine, life and action.

Spring has always been my favorite. Easter comes with it. It’s a time of new beginnings, resurrection and new life. The old gets put away, the heavy layers and protection are folded neatly and stored away, and we make way for transformation.

Camping

By: Gabriela Yareliz

In our camp, no one needs people to throw water on their fire. No. The world is full of those people. The people we need in our camp are the ones who love good conversation, love the warmth of the fire (and some s’mores), they do a little dance, and the ones who will feed the fire with new wood when the flame starts getting weak.

Cannes

Festival de Cannes 2019– we are ready for you. Can’t wait for May! I have posted about this festival, here, for almost a decade. The month of May is the greatest. One of the things on my bucket list is to visit Cannes in May. It’s a symbol of talent, beauty, class, international stars from all my favorite cinemas are on the same red carpet, and it’s a particularly feminist moment.

“Pour moi, l’imperfection et la beauté ne sont pas du tout incompatible. J’aime les failles (…) j’aime tous que n’est pas parfait. Une belle femme (est) forte, instinctive.” Leila Bekhti

“For me, imperfection and beauty are not incompatible. I love flaws (…) I love everything imperfect. A beautiful woman (is) strong, instinctive.” Leila Bekhti

You are worth it. (L’Oreal Paris has always been right).*

*Not sponsored.

Assuming the Risk

By: Gabriela Yareliz

Why is it that we are angry at God or attribute bad things to God, yet we fail to assume responsibility for our own choices? People (me included!) want others to assume responsibility for their choices. Only fair, right? When they don’t, and that hurts us, we often then think it’s God’s fault, ironically then absolving us of any responsibility from the situation. (Today, we are talking about situations and circumstances where we did make a choice, even if we ended up with a result we didn’t anticipate or desire). Granted, you can’t control other people’s actions (and neither can God), but oftentimes, it’s our own choices that place us in the path of certain disasters.

People choose lifestyles, locations, they have sex (or don’t), they have children (or don’t), they date (or don’t), they get married (or don’t), they get divorced (or don’t)– and then, they are angry at God, as if they didn’t choose that action, place, behavior, life or person. (Or they ignore the choices of other humans they chose to be with).

Suddenly, the poor and bad consequences from our own actions become our evidence against God and His character, in our minds– but it’s delusional. We all make choices. And people are so fast to hold others responsible for theirs, so why can’t we own up to our choices?

“Suddenly, the poor and bad consequences from our own actions become our evidence against God and His character, in our minds– but it’s delusional.”

Erwin McManus recently wisely said something along the lines of: we blame something external (the devil or God) and sometimes fail to see the darkness within us.

Sometimes, we have to forgive God for that which He did not do and heal that relationship, and forgive ourselves for our humanity. Life isn’t about perfection. It’s also not a life where people are God’s marionettes. Life is filled with decisions and risks. We take risks, and assume the risk of our choices, no matter what the result.

May we always continue to strive to see God for who He really is: Real, good, never outdated, always present, always fair, true, faithful, Love.

Game Changers

By: Gabriela Yareliz

It’s Women’s Month. You know, I had never really paid so much attention to this and the March 8th holiday (International Women’s Day), until I started dating this amazing man who celebrates me, not only on March 8th, but every day. Apparently, this has been a legit holiday in Europe, for a while. I feel like we just started hearing about it and emphasizing it here in the states, just recently. He spoils me.

Okay, so every day is women’s day. Equality is always in vogue. And I will say that when you are in a relationship with someone who believes in you 1000% (sometimes more than you believe in yourself), it sort of makes you relax into this authentic state, one without frills, but one filled with power.

Growing up with a strong, authentic and warrior woman (my mother), I always felt like I could hold my own. I felt like a boxer going into the ring of life, ready to fight. That’s not to say that I no longer fight for what I want– I really do. (I am a lawyer, who is always down for a good fight). But having someone who backs you up, and who you don’t have to prove yourself to, makes a world of a difference. It’s nice to have people you can hang up the gloves with. I hadn’t really experienced that.

People often don’t realize that there are people who have luxuries of financial wealth and networks and all kinds of things that get you to places faster, and in a no-sweat-blood-and-tears kind of fashion (I do not know this life). Society and so many jobs are designed, many times, for people with expansive safety nets and trust funds. (That’s actually why some jobs pay so little. I think it’s in P.S. I Love You, that one of the ladies says that you have to be rich to afford to go crazy or do art, or something like that. She isn’t too far off). Reality is very different for many of us who don’t have that. And often, while we are fighting for a place in this world that comes so easily to others, we often find ourselves trapped in weird expectation bubbles, simply because we are women.

I wanted to take a moment to discuss some things that keep popping up that remind me of what it can mean to be authentically you. This isn’t to say that people who do the opposite aren’t authentic. But this is to say that, sometimes, people act a certain way or engage in patterns of behavior simply because it’s an expectation or because someone else decided it was necessary.

Here are some movements that remind us that there are some women who don’t care what the expectation is or who has set it. And even if you don’t agree with this in particular, maybe there is something close to your heart that makes you feel more authentically you, and maybe this will inspire you to do it or embrace it.

Biological Clocks: Tik Tok

“Twentysomething men are freer than women to screw up both personally and professionally — all studies say they’re going to come out on top eventually. Women do not have this assurance, and so craft these timelines in an attempt to establish a modicum of control in a world where motherhood — even with a supportive partner — remains incompatible with professional fulfillment. Flexible work schedules are elusive, child care is horrifically expensive, and stay-at-home dads are stigmatized: Fixing this stuff would require huge political efforts and a major cultural shifts.” The Cut, The Real Reason Twentysomething Women Are Worried, by Ann Friedman

I don’t agree entirely with this article (so don’t read it and judge me), but it’s filled with data and some truths (and untruths). (Take it for what it’s worth). Regardless, here is the deal: We (women) have biological clocks (and men do too, actually). Women have to work, at times, twice as hard as men to have the same family and career a man has. And while men are freer to screw up and do and undo, I feel a lot of women used to abide by a fear of their biological clock. And listen, that isn’t entirely gone. I think that will always be some weird looming shadow over a woman.

I will say this: I see there are more women waiting longer to have children. And as long as you aren’t putting yourself and the baby in some crazy risky situation (there are realities), women are finally giving themselves permission to hold on to their careers and decide things in a way that benefits them, as well, as opposed to earlier years, where things seemed very one-sided.

And forget career advancement and retention, etc., more importantly, women are waiting until they are the best version of themselves and ready to offer a child an upgrade of their own childhood, before having children. If this isn’t responsible, I don’t know what is. I think this is important and worth mentioning.

Fur & Cycle Syncing: Everything down there

Women are no longer abiding by weirdo male fantasies of nine-year old girls (*enter Fur Oil*) or men who think it’s gross when a woman acknowledges that she menstruates (grow up). Women are changing the conversation around body hair, they are tracking their cycles and stepping away from traditional hormonal birth control, and at the same time, being more responsible regarding family planning.

Au Natural and Grays

“‘It’s my favorite thing about myself,’ says Sophia Roe, a social-­media star, chef, and wellness advocate who was sixteen when she started seeing silver. Now 30, she is the proud owner of copious tinsel-like ringlets that punctuate her otherwise onyx curls. ‘It’s like I got bopped in the head with a magical stick.'” VOGUE, Should I Break Up With My Hair Colorist to Go Gray?

Women are embracing non-toxic beauty (in every sense of the term) and learning how to do the most with what they have. While there is a whole generation plastering more pigments and chemicals on their faces, more than ever before (you have seen them on IG)– there is also a rising generation of women who are watching what their skin absorbs, becoming stronger and more physically fit and not rushing to fit into conventional beauty.

 

When I see these shifts, I recognize how different and empowering this is, versus what some of us have culturally grown up with or what our parents grew up in. And some of us had parents who fit into this authenticity long before it was cool. Here is to hoping we can relax more into who we were created to be, rather than fighting to fit into a box built by a random industry or person, years ago.

As we reflect on Women’s Month, and what it means, and as we remember all we have overcome to reach where we are now, may we continue to search for ways to empower ourselves and others into living more authentically (men and women). When we spend less energy trying to fit into a weird mold, we can spend more energy on being light and healing ourselves and the world around us.

 

This is what life is like

By: Gabriela Yareliz

This isn’t a profound discourse, today. In fact, I was going to do my whole spiel on fertility, biological clocks (our damnation), and the OB-GYN, but I figured that could wait (you’re welcome). We can talk about that after a fun pelvic exam. The emotions will be a lot more raw, then. Also, is it just me, or is everyone pregnant, trying to get pregnant, depressed because they aren’t pregnant, or counting how many viable years they have to get pregnant? (More on this in another post). (@EarthyAndy’s pregnancy was goals, by the way). Me, I had a dream that I was pregnant and woke up in a sweat thanking my sweet Jesus I was not. Again, that post can wait.

As you know, (and if you didn’t, you are about to find out), people find me in times of crisis. It’s like emotional turmoil arrives, and my face is somehow the one that pops into people’s heads. I usually only get the texts that are the dreaded ones in normal people’s lives, therefore, I try to stay away from my phone and have disabled notifications. I am trying to keep cortisol down.

There are times when some of your most disastrous and heartbreaking moments in life hit you like a ton of bricks, and at other times, those moments feel far away.

It’s like you are standing there and thinking— wow, that was me, even though it seems like a lifetime ago. It’s like having an out-of-body experience with your own memories.

But this post isn’t about those moments. In fact, it’s about the exact opposite. I talk to a lot of people whose worlds are falling apart (triggering at times), but I think something that keeps coming to my mind is how so many people get stuck thinking about those sad moments or spend energy and time being tied to harmful, hurtful, narcissistic people or memories. Their joy is drained.

What if we focused on the moments and things that make us feel more alive? Sometimes, when you have endured so much pain, when joy comes into your life you have this lightbulb moment.

I have had moments like those. It may be an embrace, a sunset, a good apple picking, a quiet walk, a good laugh with a significant other— it’s those moments that make you say, “This is what life is like.” This is what you prayed life could be. See, it’s not all pain– there can be joy and wholeness.

I am writing this, short and sweet, today, to share that we need more of those moments. Create them. Place yourself in the way of them. Stay there for a bit.

So much of what ails us physically starts in our hearts and minds. Fear, unresolved anger, hurt. I hope we can heal our hearts and therefore heal our bodies. You owe yourself joy. I wish you so many moments, where you look around in awe and think, “This is what life is like.” We need more of those.

March Madness: Relentless

“Being relentless means demanding more of yourself than anyone else could ever demand of you, knowing that every time you stop, you can still do more. You must do more.”

Tim S. Grover

By: Gabriela Yareliz

People tell you who they are in how they do their work, their dynamics with others, how persistent and “hungry” they are (do they strive for excellence?) and whether they are curious and learners. We tell the world who we are, by the same.

I am reading a fantastic book called Relentless by Tim Grover, who trains athletes and prepares them for championships (most notably known for helping Michael Jordan become who he became: ICONIC LEGEND). I first heard him on The Skinny Confidential Podcast, and I loved his no-BS attitude. For example, he views “trying” as a lame way to set yourself up for failure and a way to excuse failure– a way out. Just do it, he says.

I love his pointers and how he helps others build mental stamina (and how that can be built through pushing the body— bc the mind controls the body).

“Mental dominance is what ultimately makes you unstoppable.” Tim S. Grover

It made me think about how much knowledge so many of us have, regarding: diet, athletics, our work, etc. (this could really be applied to anything), and how poor our decisions are in the light of the knowledge we have, mostly because we want to be comfortable.

I think we all need to reflect more on what it means to pursue excellence and push ourselves beyond what we think is possible. Not for anyone else, but for ourselves.

March is my health re-focus month (it’s also Endometriosis Awareness Month). I take time to recalibrate and set new goals. I want to train more, push my body more, and more importantly, push my mind more.

I want to be focused, in the “zone,” as Grover calls it, and in control of emotions, outcomes, reactions and performance.

March Madness isn’t just for college basketball. Are you ready for it? Are you with me?

The key is not to talk about it and just do it. Off to change into some workout leggings.

“The only way you can light other people on fire is to be lit yourself, from the inside. Professional, cool, focused. If you had a bad night and you can’t show up the next day ready to go, or you can’t show up at all, that doesn’t affect just you, it affects everyone around you. A professional doesn’t let other people down just because of personal issues. If you need to show up, you show up. You might detest every individual in the room, but if your presence makes them all feel better, if it pulls the team together, if it results in better performances, then you’ve helped yourself to get one step closer to your own goal. That’s how you get others to come up to your level: show them where it is, and set the example that allows them to get there.”

Tim S. Grover

Why We Remember

By: Gabriela Yareliz

Call me crazy, but I love slowness in my own solitary moments. Maybe, this is because I strive to be efficient and productive in my work life. A slow morning is therapeutic, and I savor it. I love being mindful in “ordinary” moments, whether it’s feeling water rushing over my hands, as I wash them, or sitting by a sunny window and feeling the rays warm my shoulders. I think it is only in the slow that we see what others miss; that we find pause, in any circumstance.

Slowness isn’t easily achieved in a city like NYC. When you get off of a train, the crowd basically moves you up the stairs and out, above ground. Move or be moved, seems to be the motto. But slow, is lovely. It irritates some, but it is a refuge for me. Slow is a gift I give myself. There is this garden I love in the West Village, where the flowers grow, and no cell phones are allowed, and you can just sit on a bench and hear the wind rustle in the Witch Hazel trees and hear drops of water drip-dropping onto the top of an old trash bin. It’s peace. It’s slow. It’s the Creator’s mystery in nature.

In The Way of the Warrior, Erwin McManus states that we all remember things that others forget. There are memories that stick to us, he says, and the reason is personal. He describes a line in a book that he will never forget, that reads: “There was once a man who was driven to madness not because he could count the drops of rain but because he could count the spaces in between the drops of rain.” (81)

He says that many have read that book, but they don’t necessarily remember that one line. He said that he realized that one line stuck with him because, he writes, “These words strangely created in me a sense of hope— not that someone would be driven to madness because of the spaces between the rain but that someone out there actually understood the madness that raged within me.” (81)

This brought me a memory of a passage that I remember, clear as day, from literature that I treasured, and it made me think of why I still remember it, today.

[From Mrs. Dalloway, by Virginia Woolf]

I think everyone in my English class hated this book. I read it twice. This was the book that allowed me to discover Virginia Woolf’s brilliance.

When I read the following passage, it felt like the clock stopped.

“Beauty, the world seemed to say. […] To watch a leaf quivering in the rush of air was an exquisite joy. […] beauty, that was the truth now. Beauty was everywhere.” Virginia Woolf, Mrs. Dalloway

“Beauty was everywhere,” has always echoed in my mind, even as a child— even before I had ever read these words in a printed book. When I read this, sure, it’s the observation of the shell shocked World War I veteran Septimus on a park bench, but it resonated so loudly with me. I will forever remember these lines. It struck me because I too knew what it was like to feel a deep quietness within, where I could observe the world continue around me. I knew what it was like to feel the exquisite joy of watching the quivering of a leaf. “Beauty was everywhere.” I so deeply believed it then and believe it now.

I have always been fascinated by the concept and science of time, and whether things we do make it feel like it passes or is experienced faster or slower.

I moved a lot in my life. I was constantly adapting to new places, new people, new dynamics, and I always strived to see the beauty, wherever I was.

I would see old walls or a rundown shack, and I could imagine a catalog photo shoot there, even if no one would ever look twice at the shack. Beauty isn’t always superficial, at times it emerges with the passing of time or with the knowledge of a story or history. To me, beauty emerges in the slow.

No matter how ugly life got or how hard things felt, I had this safe place where I would retreat in a solitary, slow quietness. I could always see the beauty. Even where others thought it absurd. I could feel it; I still do, and it always filled me with hope. It still does.

What is something you remember that made the clock stop for you?

Lessons from a Golden Morning

This was written but never shared in November of 2017, from my sunny kitchen. 

By: Gabriela Yareliz

The morning starts with light seeping through the kitchen window. At first, the light just hits the white chairs and my window friendly plant, but then, it seems to escape its rays, and it dances around the room.

On my cooking morning, I usually roll out of bed; I brush my teeth, put on some moisturizer (God forbid my two sunspots get darker) and a hat. I slip on some jeans and a fleecy sweater, and I grab my tote with the sticky note of ingredients I need, which I wrote out the night before.

I walk over to the Turkish store, a few blocks away. The produce is usually already outside, on its stand, golden in the sunlight. I pick out my selected few ingredients, carefully, taking my time. I linger. Then, I walk back to my studio to cook.

My cooking mornings start early. I wash things and lay out the items on the table. I get the cutting board ready and preheat the oven, if it needs to be warmed.

When I sit to chop, it’s a methodical process. It’s usually quiet, and I sit by the bright window. I have a glass bowl in front of me, with an open cookbook. The cookbook is there as some type of moral support, as I barely look at it during my cooking because I read the recipe over and over again the night before. Instead, my thoughts are focused, as I chop and mix. I paint a picture of what I am aiming for, in my head. (My hopes for the dish and the ingredients I prepare.)

Sometimes, I don’t have all the ingredients I need. Sometimes, the store doesn’t have what I need, I mean, we can only pick from what is available. Sometimes, I forget the things I need at the store, or I arrive at certain conclusions, like: No, I will not pay $10 for two bay leaves. In NYC, one must be strategic when grocery shopping, and depending on how hot or cold it is, strategic about where one goes for the ingredients and supplies.

Cookbooks are these majestic books of knowledge, filled with magical creations and art on every page; ideas coaxing us to be brave and to venture into a new dimension of living.

When I cook, unpredictable things can happen. I remember, once, I made this cauliflower dish, and the cauliflower turned the strangest color. The turmeric mixture on it turned into a cough-inducing powder, instead of the cream it was supposed to turn into. Another time, I was trying to make coconut rice, and a chemical reaction happened, where it turned into a black syrup mess.

I’ve cooked in a sports bra and gotten splattered with jumping hot oil, and I almost grabbed a hard boiled egg with my bare hands, out of the boiling water (I was too deep in my own thoughts, at this point). I have had my cooking fails, but I have also made some things I was really proud of. Beautiful and tasty things. Nutritional and complex dishes. I am a want-to-be chef, in the making. I always wanted to be good at cooking, but while I did it before this point in my life, I didn’t have the same passion and excitement while doing it. It was a chore; a necessary evil. I just needed to get through it.

You see, it wasn’t until I was studying for the bar exam, that I would sit in my kitchen with a textbook and think, I can’t wait for Sundays to be mine. Once I don’t have to study, I am going to cook, and make something beautiful. I promised myself that. And when I passed the bar, early Sunday mornings became my cooking time. It’s a religious time, almost. A time of magic (because isn’t all creation a type of supernatural experience?).

One of my favorite films is No Reservations, starring Catherine Zeta Jones and Aaron Eckhart. The movie is about an intense and amazing chef, who endures a lot of tragedy and change in her life. At the end of the movie, I love when Chef Kate is speaking to her therapist, and she says something along the lines of, “I wish there was a cookbook for life, you know? Recipes telling us exactly what to do. I know, I know, you’re gonna say ‘How else will you learn, Kate?’

But then, her therapist responds and says, “You know better than anyone, it’s the recipes that you create yourself that are the best.”

Life is as unpredictable as you can get. It’s a roller coaster of changes, deaths and rebirths, losses and blessings, hardships and joys. Everyone has his or her fair share of hardship and heartache in this life. Sometimes, its consequences we brought about, and sometimes, it’s just the price we pay for having this beautiful thing called life on earth. We have dark moments where we feel we are drowning in darkness (and those moments are very different, from person to person), and moments where we rejoice. There are times of methodical monotony, where we feel like we are endlessly chopping. And at times, these periods bring us that all too familiar pain in the wrist.

There are times where what we try fails, sometimes, by no fault of our own. We have to scrap it, and try again. We get burned, and sometimes, we bleed.

No matter how crazy it gets, or how tired I am, I have noticed that the difference in my cooking started when I approached it with passion, curiosity, gratitude and devoted surrender.

There are guides in our lives that serve as cookbooks, such as scripture and/or self-help or inspirational wisdom. None of these includes measurements or precise solutions for everything, but instead they are books of principles and guidance. The truth is that there is no recipe for life or any aspect of it. Each life, relationship, and trial must be met with passion, creativity, gratitude and curiosity that submerges us into it, so we can make art and something beautiful out of the ingredients available.

“Each life, relationship, and trial must be met with passion, creativity, gratitude and curiosity that submerges us into it, so we can make art and something beautiful out of the ingredients available.”

We may have different ingredients than what we thought we needed or different from what our neighbor has, but with humility, gratitude and creativity, we can learn to make something beautiful out of what we have.

Choose to cook early, in life. What I mean by that is that night doesn’t last forever. Get up even while it still may be dark, and look at your ingredients in the golden light of the morning. Sit down and prepare next to the window, and let the warmth and light inundate where you are. Read a guide and become inspired. While you sit there, surrounded by all that you have, make something beautiful. Make your life a work of art. Cook something delicious, and after you make art, don’t forget to share and feed someone else.

“Cook something delicious, and after you make art, don’t forget to share and feed someone else.”