A Mere Shadow of a Dinner: Turkey Pot PI

As I was sitting at my desk in the residence hall at UCD to collect census forms today, I realized
that one of the pages in my sketchbook had the bleed-through or "shadow" markings on the next page from the marker I'd used to draw the Turkey Pot Pie from April 9th.

Just for fun I played around filling in between some of the dots with census-inspired strings of numbers in place of lines and tic marks where there might be color variations until the rough shape of a piece of pie came through.

I kept adding the names of residence halls, sorority and fraternity houses, and the names of ingredients like peas, potatoes, and carrots until the thing looked sort of like a pie on crack or something. Finally, I sketched in a fork and supplemented the drawing with a little watercolor wash.

It's the shadow of the dinner of leftover turkey pot pie I would have enjoyed on April 12 with my honey had I been home with him instead of at work. As it was, I was on campus with my carrots and Jell-O that night. That's OK.

If we believe that saying, "Oh, but that's OK" when our truth is actually something else, that's a misdirection of emotion, and if we were honest, there would probably be some anger in there too.

There are three stages or levels of anger, I think. Level one anger is the bright but harmless flare-up that quickly passes and has little or no lasting effect, like steam escaping from a boiling tea kettle. Level two anger is dangerous. It's the kind of anger that bores inside because we tell ourselves "Oh, but that's OK" but then we get migraines or yell at our kids instead of regarding the truth it reveals to us.

Level three anger is a call to act. To confront, to make changes, and to state our needs and desires. It's a productive force which drives us new life if we recognize and embrace it. We can make art with it, write because of it, and forge new ways of living using its energy.

It's a call to push through the shadow of "kriya" and say, "Oh, for cryin' out loud."