Kathleen Rabe

I should spell my name the traditional way. Raabe. Maybe that would make this day more interesting.

Black beans and rice with a homemade corn tortilla. Cooked the traditional costa rican way, with Salsa Lisano. Jesus, I would kill for some salsa lisano. we just ran out, the last of it in with the fresh black beans. yet another need for texas.

food associations. sensory associations. different sences evoke different levels of memory for me.. when i look at old work of mine i will automaticlly remember what i was going threw when i made it, but i dont feel that time again. when i hear a song i may have listened to at that time however, the memory is physical, its overwelming. it is the same with food, it takes me there. black beans and rice reminds me of spiders and tucans, climbing waterfalls with a staff infection in my leg, skin infections from a tiny pig, building a kiln in the heat, ceramics in the bern.

taste, sound.. silence. birds in the morning. wishing for a ketzal. the tortilla's in the comal, the fire popping. my fire is popping. the smells in the air, i could be there.

taste, sound, sight, touch.. clay between my toes. exhasted from crushing, crushing and crushing and heat and frozen fresh leche snacks and crushing. its so oddly cold between my toes.

taste, sound, sight, touch, smell..