The Genius of Alfred Jensen

I posted a few months ago about the love of my life: a painting whose artist I couldn't remember. Well, I finally made it back to the High Museum of Art in Atlanta, where I learned the name. The artist is Alfred Jensen, and he is absolutely brilliant! I let that same painting swallow me once more as I lost myself in the splendor of the rhythm and pattern. Anyway, there you have it: Alfred Jensen. I am in love with the work of Alfred Jensen.

Check out his genius for yourself! http://www.alfredjensen.com/home.html

The Worms Crawl In

I actually, truly did find this in my Chinese food a couple of weeks ago. Really. I have no idea what it is, but there are obvious leg-like qualities to those hangy things that are just below the knob that looks almost head-ish. I know. Creepy.

However, this stunning find is not the reason I am posting about this. The more shocking truth is that after I found this unidentified root/insect/alien/fetus thing, I actually ate Chinese again the other day...from the same restaurant!

I'm shameless. Hello, my name is Jennifer Pendergrass, and I'm addicted to Chinese food.

Love at First Sight

I will admit that my cold, feminist heart didn't believe in love at first sight. The kind of love that makes it impossible for you to pull your eyes away. The kind that haunts you. The kind that you think about in the wee hours of the morning when you are fighting sleep. The kind you find yourself talking about to complete strangers. That love that presses you to find out a name. A number. Anything.

Well, it finally happened to me. My love? This painting. I tried my best to soak it up during my visit to the High Museum of Art a month or so ago, but I couldn't get enough. I think about it all the time:
What was the pattern?
How were the symbols ordered?
What colors were the frames?
How were the frames connected?

The worst part is that I have no idea who the artist is. I thought I would remember. I should've written it down.

There it is. My Love at First Sight.

Omelet Advice

This small piece of wisdom may save you heartache one day:

If ever you find yourself out in your P.J.s in the rain at 3:00 a.m., desperately searching for an IHOP, but the only thing you can find is a hole-in-the-wall, deserted Waffle House, heed these words of advice:

Do not order anything with "fiesta" in the name.

...you're welcome.

Smaller than a Breadbox

If I were short, I would try to stand near other short people to make myself appear taller. This idea comes from the same line of thinking that leads all of us large women to wear gigantic jewelry and carry purses that could double as overnight bags in a useless effort to make ourselves appear petite. Yes, if I were short, I would spend my days looking for other short things to surround myself with.

And if I were short and fat, I would carry a very large purse with a teeny little strap.

Why can't it all be Love Lard?

Love Lard is easy.

For those poor, unfortunate souls who are not familiar with the heavenly taste of Love Lard, let me enlighten you. It is an appetizer. I got the recipe from one of the Sweet Potato Queens books (Holla to Her Royal Highness, Jill Conner Browne). Love Lard has three ingredients: bacon, white bread, and cream of mushroom soup. Even if you've never tasted it, you know, right there, that it will be good. How could you go wrong with those ingredients?

You can't. It is heaven.

More importantly, it is easy. You smear and roll the 3 ingredients together, slap it on a cookie sheet, pop it in the oven, and before you know it...Viola! Love Lard! Whenever I've made it, my guests have raved about how wonderful it is. As the splendor of this baconocitous creation melts their taste buds into whimpering puddles of submission, it is clear that I have done it: I am a success. In that moment, I have saved the party, and I am the Love Lard Goddess.

...Why can't it all be Love Lard?