How ironic that I’m writing in the middle of writers’ block. So, I’ve semi-abandoned my blog in the past few months as I was working on “real” writing. I wrote a television script and a couple of short stories and am now working on two wildly different screenplays. So, in the process, I decided to ditch the writing outlet that actually brings me joy beyond compare?? Huh? This blog is the place I can write and feel release. And feel fully human. I hear songs in my head when I write this blog. Maurane when I’m feeling contemplative. Natalie Merchant when I’m needy. Colin Haye when I’m unfulfilled. Annie Villeneuve when I need a moment to escape. Melissa Etheridge’s most recent album, INDIANA, when I’m feeling unruly and need to scream. And always, Natasha Bedingfield’s “Unwritten.” It’s a total cliche, I know, but it’s such a beautiful reminder that at every moment you can start over. START OVER. Push reset, as I tell my 5 year old. You may have had a crap morning, but just push RESET in your brain and have a gorgeous afternoon. And when you’re in the midst of writers’ block, blast music, chop some veggies and FEEL. Just feel all the good and the bad and the, frankly, ugly of the inner workings of your brain. It may be chaotic, but it’s all yours.
So here I am. I’m holed up, writing. And I need food, right?
I harvested my dwindling winter garden and set to work. Um. I’d like to take credit for my creativity and zest for creation, but, as I said, I’m BLOCKED. So I simply shaved all the vegetables — celery, beets, carrots, scallions — and tossed them with olive oil, lemon zest and gorgeous, crunchy salt. Then, I cooked some green, French lentils in a bit of tomato paste (and browned it thoroughly, thank you, Mario Batali, for the tip), added a splash of water, and let them simmer. I scooped up the lentils alongside the veggies, put a dollop of Greek yogurt and a hefty downpour of Nutritional Yeast (please see past postings on the brilliance of NY) on top. Finish off the whole mess with a bit of reduced balsamic vinegar and a generous drizzle of fresh walnut oil and you, my friends, have got a meal. No need for slaughter. Just electric, exceptional food, straight from the source.
Gotta go. I’m suddenly inspired . . .