Eating fruit and reading poetry, what could be a more decadent friday morning?
“Oh, the feel of the wolftail on the silk,
the strength, the tense
precision in the wrist.
I painted them hundreds of times
eyes closed. These I painted blind.
Some things never leave a person:
scent of the hair of one you love,
the texture of persimmons,
in your palm, the ripe weight.”
If I were a lady of leisure I would eat quail eggs every day.
Travelling makes it harder to paint anything serious so instead, I am keep wet sketchy notes in camera and by hand.
Why is it that we like to eat cute things? Is it the inner sadist? I’m not sure. But Taiwan seems to sure be fond of its darkly adorable food. For example: this pork bun in the shape of a pig.