Breakfast pizza

 The day began well. A slow breakfast, an indulgencusually reserved for weekends, provided sustenance for a quiet day in the studio.
The recent passing of my ancient stereo made birdsong my morning music. The intervals of silence seemed almost foreign to my mama ears. So accustomed to children's squabbles and peels of laughter. A chance to catch my breath.
The gallery has all the paintings they need so I have no plans for new work. This day is just for play, to try new things. A chance to grow. My inspiration stirs watching the kids in the morning. They roll out of bed like cats and find a patch of sun to warm themselves. All tumbles of peachy skin tired eyes. A joy to behold and a nightmare to get moving for school!
This might ignite a beginning but who knows where it will end up. We rarely write our own stories although we find our way. Long forgotten images accompany me. An old friend from school runs to catch the train, her red hair like fire in the breeze. Who knew she would wind up here twenty five years later? I quietly wonder where she is these days.
I'm not sure if it's the beginning of anything, I rarely am convinced. I'll live with it for a while and see, decide whether it needs to continue or go altogether. Life is like that I guess...

A Serious Tuesday Breakfast.

I took a ball of pizza dough from the freezer and it took no time to defrost in a warm spot. Whenever I make pizza I always make extra and freeze individual portions. Turned the bbq on high and put a pizza stone on the grill. I topped the dough with homemade chilli sauce and threw it on the stone while I fried a freshly laid egg. A lick of olive oil, some persian feta and parsley and I'm looking for a place in the sun. Happy days.