favorite things.

"The food in the South is as important as food anywhere because it defines a person's culture."

—Fannie Flagg

As I begin to peel back the layers of my childhood— today it's the long hot summer growing up as a child on a rural farm in Georgia [on my mind] and a big, red, perfectly ripe tomato. 
My favorite summer meal has always been fresh garden picked tomatoes lovingly layered between thick hot buttery slices of my grandmother's 'just out of the oven' potato bread, 'southern mayo' and stacked crispy farm raised [bacon]. 
The art of living returns to the simple things in life, especially during times of economic struggle for most Americans.

A letter to myself.

“Avant-gardism is an addiction." [Harold Rosenberg]

       I begin by starting at the beginning…a pilgrimage to connect with my father's family. This year Father's Day came and went with a low back burning fire igniting the need to reflect on the man who stood with honor in the place of my biological father—a man I've never met. Stirred by deep questions of identity and fueled with a desire to connect to a past that I know little about, it is time to travel down that movable path of my childhood dreams. Repeated like the waves of seas at storm—pushing up through my psyche and flowing backwards onto rocky beaches disappearing perilously into the darkness. For me it's important to learn about where you came from and understand the circumstances that lead to your arrival in this world. It is my father's unheard words that I seek now. The Mitchell family is a fiercely proud lot and protective of the Mitchell Family Tree. What I know is that my father served our country with the fierce loyalty of his ancestor "Billy Mitchell" of North Carolina. I inherited that sense of pride and zeal for life combined with the beat of my own wings. And like the skill of a surgeons knife, blood connections open your chest—so though we have never met—he lives in my heart.