I’m not really a crazy person.
Sometimes I yearn for something that’s right within my grasp, but I never let myself take it. Like dried pineapple, for example. (How does one dry fruit without making it stale or moldy, I wonder?) I stare at it and its brothers in their packet on the other side of the work-book pile-dinner table. It stares back at me. To put it in Platonic terms – the end of my art is to get work done, and the end of its art is to be eaten. (When two arts are in conflict, who will be the better to judge which shall win, the rabochii or the gourmand? Tee hee.)
Another example: since I had dinner at The Professor’s house a couple nights ago, I have been jonesing for loose leaf tea with fresh herbs in the mix (I think his wife measured a pound, roughly, into the pot). And it was delicious. Gimme gimme gimme.
A third: I’ve been wanting to go back to the Tretyakov and walk through the Vrubel’ gallery because I might have fallen in love with his daughter, Nadezhda Zabela-Vrubel’, but I’ve been putting it off and off and off.
The longer I refuse to eat the pineapple, the longer I refuse to take the 3-stop ‘tro ride to the gallery, the more exciting it gets. It’s like bullet-time! (Except I have problems with bullet time as a dramatic device. That’s probably better in a different post, though).
So the temptation is there, but its aura doesn't dissolve when I refuse to partake of it - it increases! So give in to temptation! Take an extra slice of turkey! Place a stick of butter on that marshmallow-sweet potato mix, and wash it down with a can of premade cranberry sauce! This has been a year in the tempting, and you must, you must, you must
For my part, I bite into the pineapple ring. It is delicious.