Kurt R.A. Giambastiani

Yesterday, I started and then deleted no fewer than six posts. My mind was fragmented by circumstances and events, leaving me unable to concentrate on anything.

I started posts on the usefulness of writing conventions, on the reasons for using a pseudonym, on office “open” floorplans, on my reputation as an arrogant bastard, etc., etc. I tried repeatedly, but could not cohere my thoughts to a single subject long enough to form a reasonable discourse.

What was going on?

My boss was coming up to deliver my annual performance review. I did not expect it to go well.

I learned of a new job opportunity for which I am a perfect fit. Unfortunately, this hasn’t helped much in the past as either my reputation (see above) precedes me or I’m too old/expensive.

My work priorities shifted abruptly, leading to the grinding of mental gears as I negotiated an acute direction change while traveling at top speed.

Out of the blue, I got an invitation to be a panelist at OryCon (a sf/f writing convention.) I was puzzled by this, as I haven’t been to a convention in over a decade, and haven’t received an invitation to be a panelist for nearly that long.

The new car got a scratch, the front garden needed weeding, a co-worker turned in her notice, I was behind on my letter-writing, my new novel project continued to languish, and I had absolutely no idea what I was going to make for dinner, or for how many.

In the end, it was the thing for which I was least prepared that brought me the greatest serenity.

I prepared a meal on the fly, with almost no preparation, and it was great.

• A salad of home-grown greens in a shallot-and-sherry vinaigrette
• A roll of angel-hair pasta, tossed with home-grown herbs, finished in browned butter
• A filet of salmon, steamed with orange zest, served on a cabbage leaf
• A single macerated strawberry garnished with minced scallion and fleur de sel

The peace of the kitchen, the control I wield within it, and the new techniques I’ve recently acquired, they all came together and allowed me a moment of true artistic creation amidst the chaos of the world around me.

It was I, my knives, my cutting board, fresh ingredients laid out in ordered mise en place, the iPod playing Les Friction, the cat begging my shins for scraps of fish. As aromas crept outward, the housemates began to drop by to see what I was crafting.

Then it was the plating, the presentation, the reveal.

Then it was the enjoyment.

Ahhh…

Better now.

k