I am a Writer, Chef and Photographer, well Artist sums it up, in no particular order, depends what day it is.
My influences are many - My travels wide.
Kirklafferty@outlook.com
02102531669
Get link
Facebook
X
Pinterest
Email
Other Apps
-
Not all change is progress a friends band once sung,
but for me opening up my avenues to new opportunities in the New Year I think for 2013 it will be a time of progress and new opportunities.
I will also try and post more than once a year .
Get link
Facebook
X
Pinterest
Email
Other Apps
Comments
Popular posts from this blog
-
I went to sleep the optimist , a dreamer My head in the clouds I woke up to the age of uncertainty The clouds it seemed Have moved inside my head Only time will tell what dreams are made of.
In 2016 I was invited down to cook for 'Wellington On A Plate.' Wellingtons yearly food festival. Short works of my fiction added to the event. I created banquets for the second week of the festival in 30 Upstairs Art Gallery Courtney Place Wellington, Lamb smoker hanging out the window, hotplate on a shelf, all without a kitchen. A Cook A Gallery A Painting A Feast The Event ran over a week with diners enjoying banquet meals each night presented as 'Art Cuisine' in their own right. I was asked to base it all on Abby Meakin's still life painting which hung in the Gallery behind the Diners. The Middle Course was served on long banquet boards, each person received a scroll of my short fiction and poetry to indulge in and converse over. This Dessert the finale of the night was Audible. Wasabi and Coconut Panne Cotta Ginger Soil / Lemongrass Jelly Yuzu...
All memories of Christmas entertained will be gone when the parents of presents given no longer sit by night under pine needles scent. Children will not half-awake dream of what’s to come. No bicycle bells will ring down ‘Boxing day’ streets. Christmas tarts, fruit mince sweet, with enough booze to baffle the dog that stole them from Christmas table and guiltily eats them on the floor, will not be remembered. Who will rise to the occasion to save us, remind us of overfed tummies, family feuds on yearly retreat and proclaim: ‘ This has been so much fun , how great it is to see you all .’ Just the one uncle, who, after embalming himself in brandy stumbled between the trees outside in stupor and shouted, ‘I can see the curvature of the Earth .’ Only then can we say Christmas remembered didn’t fall flat, finally proof also, the Earth is not.
Comments