My passions are clustered closely together, sharing the commonality of creation.
Whether it is my excursions into the depths of nature, earnestly searching for the face of God, but being content with hearing his heartbeat.
Or my cobbling together of words in an effort to make sense of my place, my role on this planet.
But…
Being ensconced in the kitchen, marrying flavors and textures to fortify the body is an ethereal feeling all of its own.
Writing is not unlike Cooking.
As both are art forms, in that something is being created for human consumption with the hope and expectation that it will nurture those who partake of what has been prepared.
Is it foolhardy to consider the Almighty as such…

A writer, cook, narrator… Creator?
What God has rendered is intended for human consumption, is it not?
I’m probably overreaching, I digress.