Sentient Mentality

I think because I think I can

So hey,  those who know me know that I’ve taken a keen interest in the kitchen over the past few years.  Its led to recognition of my passion and while my first publication here isn’t wholly indicative of my tastes and daily cooking adventures, it is a sample that I’d really like to share with you.

Just in time for the holidays, I’m offering, to you, my first of hopefully many cookbooks to come.  Check it out here:

Cover

DIY Tasty Gift Ideas Cookbook at BakeSpace.com.

My first offering gives you 10 great ideas for stocking stuffers or fun little gifts to bring to a friends place for dinner. Inside, you’ll find 3 soup mixes, 3 spice mixes, and 3 snack options and a bonus hot chocolate mix that I really, really  enjoyed crafting.  These are fun to make, great for lazy cooking moments, and practical gifts for the non-chefs in the house or campers in the family.  You might even just want to keep these around the house for yourself.   Check it out.

I’d love to hear your comments and suggestions.

Thanks for your support.

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A taste for life

So there I was, turning a blind eye to the obvious, and shoving my future down my throat.

She’s been a best friend throughout my life; comforting me at the worst of times, helping me celebrate the grand occasions.

Little did I know what too much of a good thing could do to a person.  I didn’t realize any of this because it didn’t seem plausible, but the love of my life was making me fat; giving me heartburn.

How many people consider a daily staple the focus of one’s prime reason for existence.  Could you fall in love with air?  What about sunlight?  I suppose if we knew what life was without these things, we’d appreciate them more.  All along, my other brain, (no the other one), was trying to tell me my purpose.  It was speaking through my own mouth; using my own tongue.

Sometimes, I guess, what’s already on your plate, sitting right in front of you, is the hardest thing to see.  When you’re trying to cook up all kinds of other ideas, mashing them together, chopping them apart; trying to find the perfect recipe for your life, its tough to boil it down to the simplest form.

Dearest love, I finally see you.  You and I already make a great team, but I vow to improve what we can do together.

With you there is no limit to what we can experience in life.

You nourish me, sustain me, inspire me.

Its one thing to prepare you every day, and take you in as I need to, its another altogether to give you the respect you deserve and savour your every nuance.  To share you with the world and write about what you’re capable of will be my greatest honour.

© 2014 U.Cohen


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Remember that time…

When it was all so simple;  When it was all so innocent; When having fun was the only concern.

Do you remember

When you drew your first picture; Crayons and glue; And scissors and play-doh, red, yellow, blue?

Imagine that time

When you first rode that bike; When you waited for a moment; When dad wasn’t looking; Just in case you fell.

Do you recall

When you first felt responsible; When you first felt guilt; When you told your first lie?

Does it bring up memories

When you had your first crush; When a smile first made you feel something more than happy; When your gut shook at the sight of her?

Think back

When it all crashed down; When you couldn’t stop from falling deeper; When it made no sense at all.

Reenvision

When you tried to grow in spite of it all; When not much really mattered anymore; When you shut it all out.

Reflect on

When the fog cleared;  When you realized all you’d been through; When you learned to let go.

Could you conceive

When you’d do it all over again; When you thought finding someone meant the end of the search; When you promised to try harder?

Contemplate over

When fun ruled your world; When you stopped trying so hard at everything; When you started to dream again.

Did you foresee

When chance meeting would bring an end to it; When the rollercoaster could finally stop; What the euphoric sensation would actually feel like?

Had you anticipated

When you’d just be yourself; When you’d appreciate her for who she is; When the only thing you’d ever want to do again is create memories together?

Leroy

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Leroy

Leroy is one of my first oils intended and given as a gift to my friend who was upset over the loss of her little guy.  Leroy was his original name which she later changed to … I can remember.  I was with her when she got him and while I’m a “dog guy”, as far as little lizards go, I thought he was pretty cute.

Unlike most paintings, this was completely deliberate and thought out.  Although the specific details worked themselves out, I was able to tell it to myself as though a story from background to foreground.  It may be the only time that’s happened.

This style of mine has remained a constant since I picked up the brush for the second time.  The first being water colours as a kid.  I love a gradient background with varying levels of glaze to it, followed by as much texture as I can get; usually with a knife rather than a brush.  There’s just something about carving paint that I enjoy.

I’m looking for photography tips when it comes to my paintings.  Seems there’s always a lighting problem.  Can’t afford special equipment at the moment, and I know there’s google, but maybe you all have some experience I could learn from.


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12:12, 12/12/12

What does the number mean to you?

The 12th day of the 12th month at the age of 12… wish I could, but I’ll never forget.

12 bottles in a case of liqour.

Two 12’s in a case of beer.

12 smokes in half a pack, what a way to start the day.

12 inches in a foot long joint or was it 13; what a way to end it.

Sometimes 12 hours sleep in 12 nights.

12 years after wasn’t enough. Another 12 … almost there.  I think its about right.

What is 12?  Just a number?

Where does your strength come from?

A day?  A number?  A name?  A song?

Something meant to be right but ended up going wrong?

I can feel my skull splitting with an urge, a surging need

To empower you with your own history

To make things all right again.

Just to be me.

 


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My friend.

I know you and I know what you want to say to me before you say it.  I get it because I’ve been there too.  Right there.  If I haven’t, well, I wish it’d been me instead of you.  It might not help.  Sometimes I know what you need to hear whether you want to or not.  Sometimes I have no clue how to tell you.

My friend, you probably think the exact same thing.

Sometime before yesterday, it was the day before that, and we didn’t know each other yet.  We were strangers both learning how to be.  Now we know each other and we’re still learning how to be.  Seems as though that’s really the journey.  The journey’s better with you, my friend.  Its certainly worse without you, but I get it.  Whether for a minute or an hour or a day or a week or more, sometimes your journey and mine are not the same. Sometimes we learn how to be in each other’s thoughts for the purpose of feeling like we’re still on the journey together.

Remember that however you think you feel about yesterdays, you’re never done learning.  Tomorrow’s lessons might just shed light on the yesterdays that bother you today.  Even if they don’t, you’ll have one more yesterday’s worth of memories to dilute that old trouble, so make them good, and make them strong, and make sure they’re worth smiling about because those other ones are out of your control.

My friend, you taught me this.  It seems I’ll teach it back to you today, and you’ll remind me of it again when I need it.  This record’s not broken, its just circular.  Sometimes hearing the same song over and over again is exactly what we need, and singing the same tune over and over again helps too.  Inevitably we all remember the words, and inevitably the meaning is engraved in us but with a different impact.  The impact of sharing that time with you takes over from the impact of the words and tunes we share.

After tomorrow, it’ll be the day after, and we’ll both have played a part in each other’s path in life.  We’ll have made an impact and each taken away a part from the other.  In essence we’ll be more like each other than we were before.  I’ll be proud of that part of me that reminds me of you.  I hope you’ll never think poorly of yourself because of yesterdays when tomorrows are so much more interesting to think about.