oil on canvas
53 x 45 in.
Baking is an edible art.
There is the same process
of measuring, pouring, mixing, shaping &
everything appears as if it has always & only existed in its finalized form.
There is a theory,
perhaps a physics term,
for when you perform addition
& wind up with more than the sum of the parts.
My mother’s baking was always this way. When I was little I was mother’s apprentice. I did not learn recipes or secret techniques, my mother never followed recipes but always pulled them out as if she did. They seemed to me to be a guideline, an example of how she did not bake.
I learned alchemy,
I learned what you can’t write down.
© Marisa DiPaola