I am on a mailing list from illoannounce.com to get sent weekly topics for illustration. I am not a visual artist, so I doubt I'm about to create drawings and sketchs of the topics any time soon without some training (although it'd be nice to take some art classes, I seriously doubt my ability to learn to manipulate pen/pencil/paint to create anything recognizable!).
However, I thought I'd try using the prompt to inspire some written pieces on the topic. We'll see what turns up.
"Fresh"
I am torn between images of fresh-cool, and fresh-warm/hot. Of fresh warm baked brown bread from the oven leaving a yeasty scent throughout the house. Or, the fresh wind through the apple orchard in autumn bringing the crisp smell of macintoshes and granny smiths to my nose. The ideas have somewhat in common - scent. I must find a connection between the word "fresh," and the wholesome goodness of food freshly baked or picked.
I've long been a picky eater - and food connects strongly for me. I can't bring myself to eat leftovers. I long for something fresh each day. Newly made, untouched foods to spoon up or spear crisply with a fork. Microwaving a lump of congealed pasta or greasy meat sits uneasily with my stomach and sensibilities.
Fresh - crisp romaine hearts with micro beads of cold water, topped with vibrant red half-moons of tomato and cool rounds of cucumber.
Fresh - the whiter than white flesh of macintosh apples, with barely visibile veins of red tracing through it, and crisp skin that breaks easily and cleanly when bitten into.
No wonder I love to shop for produce more than any other grocery item - the freshness and earthy dampness entices me. Fruits and vegetables have not traveled far in time or space from the earth in which they grew.
No wonder I love to go apple picking - to pull a firm Cortland from the tree and dust it on my sweatshirt, take a bite and still taste the sunshine that only seconds ago was pouring sweetness into the fruit.
Fresh.
