The Imagined Life: Kitchen

They call it the heart of the home, and certainly it is the home of my heart. Maybe that's why I always spent so much time there, and why I want to write about it now. Truthfully my one room existence now means that I'm always in the kitchen and the bedroom and the living room and...

But I still find myself standing over the sink, or a cutting board, more then is strictly necessary. The rhythm of chopping veggies, the sound of melting butter, the smells of browning meat or of caramelizing onions, the consistency of rich sauces, and the vision of beautiful dishes coming together - it is a meditation that simultaneously requires all of my concentration and no deep thought.

Cooking is a deeply primal act for me. It awakens a lust in me, a hunger, while also cooling my other overexposed emotions. There's no time for anger over trivial matters when there is food to be explored! I can only imagine that my ancestors were hunters and gatherers, and I'm embracing their singular focus. If only for an hour or two at a time. When the going gets tough, in my case, the tough head for the kitchen, where all my senses may be ensnared.

For a while I was a collector of unique gadgets for the kitchen. Different utensils for different types of food, a tool for each individual job. Space, or lack there of, requires sacrifices though, and I actually enjoy the ingenuity it brings out. A good set of knives, a well tended cutting board (with a thin overlay for meats), one set of pots and pans, an immersion blender, and one set of standard kitchen accessories. What more do I really need?

I have a kitchen and the ability to create in it. What more could I want?


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The Imagined Life is fiction, a world of my own creation, explored through small, everyday things and experiences. 

Though there's a little more non-fiction in this one then normal!