Is it true? Sex starts in the kitchen? The men in my family are hardworking at the sink, and “dishwasher” was my partner’s first real job description. Suds and sponge. Then hanky-panky.
Since when has a scallion looked so sexy? How provocative the ladle. The redripe tomatoes in the corner set a beat, ready to groove. A ravishing coral honeysuckle vase deserves a smooch or two.
Don’t miss the interplay of masculine and feminine here. Heavy black lines, stolid and strong, delineate the forms. Maybe taking themselves a bit too seriously. Light blue leaves overlace the scene, frilling out the feminine qualities. Playful titillating.
It fact, I don’t think any cooking is happening tonight. Skip the kitchen and head for the bed. Dishes can wait.
My heart for a fruit. Well that would have to be a blackberry. I’d give my heart for a pail of those, picked fresh from the piney woods, like I used to do as a kid.
Maybe it’s the delectable joy of discovery, or the private burst of ripeness, intense and purplesweet. Not many would make it back to the kitchen, but those survivors would be plunked into a pie.
Here’s the kitchen - colorful and messy, improvisational. Because this is a foodie’s kitchen which is rarely clean.
This still life is happy chaos. Alan Davie presses each contrasting element into unity using a blissful teal blue background. We could get nervous about the waggling pile of motion on the left side, but the strong circles and curving lines soothe our visual palate.
I see a rolling pin and pie in this painting. And a curved stick of butter, essential to every pastry. Mmmm. Creamy Butter. But the nutritionists preach we need to eat colorfully. So why not - isn’t that a red strawberry pie sitting right there on the counter? Grab a fork. Open pie hole.