Creative in the Kitchen – A Cake for Ben

The Cast of Mesa Rep’s THE FANTASTICKS with Ben center holding the cake.

A few weeks back, while we were in the middle of rehearsals for Mesa Repertory Theatre’s The Fantasticks, my friend, student, and cast member Ben Carlson celebrated his 21st birthday.  Rather than buy him a shot, I decided to make a clean cake to celebrate with the cast after rehearsal.

I decided to make a yellow cake from scratch and to top it with a simple strawberry topping of strawberries, lemon juice, and sucanat.

Prepared the yellow cake…

Truly inventing the recipe as I went, I decided the strawberry topping was not exciting enough.  I found a jar of the Strawberry Jam recipe I discussed in yesterday’s blog and decided to use the jam as a filling between the two layers.

…then topped the first layer with strawberry jam…

…then put the second layer on top…

Deciding that this was still not interesting enough, I whipped up a vegan buttercream frosting.

…then topped it with a vegan buttercream frosting (see it melted a bit!) and a fresh strawberry topping!

Ridiculously good!  There was not a crumb left, which is good because I most definitely would have finished off any leftovers before I had even made it back to my apartment!

“You will learn to enjoy the process of being a creative channel and to surrender your need to control the result.  You will discover the joy of practicing your creativity.  The process, not the product, will become your focus.” – The Artist’s Way, Julia Cameron

Here’s to being adventurously creative in the kitchen!

Rosemary & Lemon Sea Bass

Last night was leftover night for dinner – hard to complain about Rosemary and Lemon Sea Bass with Zucchini, Squash, and Peppers!

Back in rehearsal this week for a production of the musical Cats; I’m music directing and playing “Bustopher Jones” and “Gus the Theatre Cat”  in three weeks.  I know that a few of you who are aware of how ridiculous it is that I am playing anybody in this dance musical – a Pentecostal upbringing and a Southern Baptist training hardly makes for a triple threat.  Your doubts not withstanding, this is actually my second contract to perform in the show.  And while I don’t particularly ever want to watch the show again, it is one of my favorite shows to sing.  It has a big belty score with a ton of different styles from pop to chorus and quasi-opera; tons of fun but big energy and character specificity required.

I’m 34 years old.  I was 26 when I sang in this show last, and I’m finally admitting to myself that there is a definite difference in my abilities the older I get.   Don’t get me wrong, the performance isn’t becoming more difficult.  On the contrary, the older I get, the performance seems to become easier and easier – easier to focus, easier to process, easier to connect, easier to create.

But the preparation to perform – that is another matter.  I find that the preparation to sing and perform at full tilt for two hours in a unitard is considerably greater than it was 8 years ago.  It means that here we are at three-weeks out from production, and I am back in the gym (boy, will I feel it tomorrow), I’m cooking and back on my clean diet, writing again, back in the practice room…getting myself into the physical endurance and mind frame for performance.  Difficult, tiring, and glorious!  How magnificent that I am 34 and doing what I love to do every day of the week!

Last night, I finished running my number for “Bustopher Jones” – an homage to the wealthy, proper epicurean and (quite literal) fat cat, sung in the style of Gilbert & Sullivan – and returned to my seat at the front of the studio.  My friend Jacob sat laughing and mentioned the possibility of type-casting.  I told him to wait until he saw the enormous costume I will be wearing during the performances.  Having not seen me since our last contract together a few short months after my last Cats contract 8 years ago, he quickly responded with, “What is it?  Your old body?”

I needed to hear that.  No matter how tired I may get during the next few weeks, I need only remember that I am in immensely greater shape than I was 8 years ago!  And perhaps the reason that it is so much harder to prepare to perform is because I am actually doing the preparation necessary.  Growing older is still better than the alternative; and my 30’s are still light years ahead of my 20’s.

Ready to be wrapped up for the oven!

Rosemary & Lemon Sea Bass with Squash, Peppers, and Zucchini

I was inspired to create this after a successful visit to Fisher’s Market where I found this beautiful Chilean Sea Bass.  I took about five or six different recipes describing this method and then used the ingredients I had here in the house.  Terribly simple and unbelievably tasty; I made this Sunday and had it again for dinner last night after rehearsal.  Enjoy! 🙂

4 – 6 oz. sea bass filets, cleaned and deboned (you could also use most white fish – halibut would be great)

1 zucchini, cut julienne

1 squash, cut juliene

1 red bell pepper

1 lemon, thinly sliced (you could also use an orange or lime)

4 sprigs rosemary (you could also use thyme, basil, etc.)

2 tsp coconut butter spread (you could use butter or your favorite substitute – or a bit of white wine!)

salt and pepper

4 sheets of parchment paper

Heat oven to 400.  Make a bed of squash, zucchini, and bell pepper in the center of each sheet of parchment paper.  Put 1/2 tsp butter on top of each vegetable bed and place sea bass on top; salt and pepper top of fish.  Place two lemons on top of each filet and place one sprig of rosemary beside.  Wrap parchment paper and place on a cookie sheet.  Cook for 20 minutes or until fish is done.   Place each parchment packet on a plate and slowly opening – watch out for steam!  Serve immediately with some tasty bread – the broth is amazing!  I used my Whole-Wheat Bread recipe; try it out.

Fresh out of the oven!

Pre-“B”-Day, or Be Melting Snow

"Be Melting Snow" by Rumi; translated by Coleman Barks.

Tomorrow is the big day: 34-years-old.

I’m not sure why this one seems like such a big mile-marker.  34 isn’t such a special age; it isn’t 30 or 35.  But nevertheless, it feels like a big one.  Not to say, “I’m so old”.  I’m certainly not sitting here worried about that; nor am I trying to solicit a long string of ‘you’re-still-so-young’s and ‘you’re-only-as-old-as-you-feel’s.  Believe me when I say, I truly understand that.

More than any physical number of age (to which I have always had a tendency to pay little attention), my thoughts are on the year ahead.  As I sit here this morning contemplating the past year, I realize that a year ago I was on the verge of a completely different life than I have today.  A year ago, I was ready to settle for far less than my worth in all aspects of my life – health, career, spirit, and love.

Only 10 months ago, all four of those crumbled around me in a matter of days.  I tried for a few weeks to sweep up the debris and rebuild my life to look exactly as it had looked before, but thankfully, it was of no use.  I finally realized I had been spared years of forcing myself to live a life that was untrue to my soul’s purpose on this earth.

Something surprising happened when I came to peace with all the changes that had taken place.  For the first time, I sat back and said, “Now that those things you were settling for have disappeared, what would you like to do with your life?”  I was amazed at the responses that sprung to the foreground of my mind; things that I had never knew I actually wanted and (more importantly) never believed that I could, should, or would have.

One of the primary desires that emerged was to write, to create.  I respected this desire by setting a side a piece of time each day to write. Sometimes this was hours; sometimes mere minutes.  Sometimes I was writing whole phrases and pages; sometimes I was writing a few notes or measures.  But most importantly, I began to increasingly honor my soul’s desire to create.

One of the first works that I wrote this past summer was actually a reworking of a Rumi poem set for narrator, choir, piano, string trio, and bells.  Several years ago, I had been filled with doubt about the “oddity” of this piece and had left it dormant in the bench of my piano.  I rewrote the piece in a few short days, and still had a slew of doubts – Were the instruments scored correctly?  Was the voicing appropriate?  Could anyone actually put it together?  I threw the rewrite back in the piano bench and let it sit for a few months more while I worked on other projects.

Nevertheless, I finally committed to a premiere of the work at “The Goddess Show”, the big spring gallery opening at Planet Earth & The Four-Directions Gallery.  I began rehearsing my ensemble at school on the work, and two remarkable things have already happened.  First, they are singing it very well despite its difficulties; the voicing sounds like it did in my head.  Secondly, and most importantly, two of the the three string parts have been covered by two of my own students – both of which I didn’t know played string instruments as well as they do.  Both have requested to play those parts when the time comes.  Both have said the parts are “definitely playable”, which is of utmost importance to me since I have never played any string instruments!

I was reminded of this Julia Cameron (The Artist’s Way) quote yesterday:

“Leap; and the net will appear.”

In my 34th year, I plan on leaping a lot because the nets that appear are far better than those fears I had before I leapt.

Rumi said it best in “Be Melting Snow”, the text from which the piece was derived:

Lo, I am with you always means when you look for God,

God is in the look of your eyes,

in the thought of looking…

There’s no need to go outside.

"Be Melting Snow", a chamber-ensemble/dance piece.

Being a Bad Artist

Writing through Lunch - Fortunately, I always keep some carrot/ginger soup in stock; I whipped up a quick two cheese quesadilla on 96%-fat-free whole wheat tortillas. Yum!

Today was a lovely day spent writing and reading and listening.  I sketched the intro for movement III of my new seven movement adaptation, having completed sketches for the introductions of I & II yesterday.  I read about Quetzalcoatl, Ashoka, symbolism in gravestone carvings, and counterpoint theory.  I listened to Corigliano’s Symphony #1 “Of Rage and Remembrance” from beginning to end.  I watched a delightful documentary on AETN about my wonderful former professor Dr. Francis McBeth who passed away on Friday.

I’ve been so fortunate to be in a great mental place lately making it easy to write.  While I know that it is brought on partly by the leisure time that Winter Break has allowed me, I actually think it has more to due with two other factors – blogging and painting.

Over dinner tonight, I was telling my friend Kathleen (El Tapatio, her first time; awesome meal, great discussion!) that I feel like blogging allows me to “brain dump”.  It accomplishes for me the same as “Morning Pages” from Julia Cameron’s book The Artist’s Way.  The blog allows me to get all the loose thoughts in my head organized and OUT so that I can get to the creative materials.  Painting helps me find artistic freedom.  I didn’t even know that I didn’t have artistic freedom before I started painting last summer.  But when I put forth my creativity in a medium that held know gravity for me – pure child’s play – I saw the absurdity behind worrying about final product before even starting the process.

And for the past six months I have continually asked, “What does this mean for my composing?”

I think it means everything to composing. And acting.  And singing.  And pottery.  And dance.  And pet portraiture.  At the base of all these “art forms” is “child play” – the essence of creativity.  And like a child, I have to be able to enter into art fearless of the outcome and uncertain of praise.  I have to simply paint, sing, write to get it out.

Julia Cameron said it best (and I say it ad nauseum to my own students):

“Remember that in order to recover as an artist, you must be willing to be a bad artist.  Give yourself permission to be a beginner.  By being willing to be a bad artist, you have a chance to be an artist, and perhaps, over time, a very good one….Creativity is an act of faith, and we must be faithful to that faith, willing to share it to help others, and to be helped in return.”

Thank for participating in my daily “brain dump”. I’m so glad that y’all are enjoying it; I certainly am!

from A Year with Hafiz by Daniel Landinsky