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For as long as I can remember, I have been obsessed
with food. It’s not the kind of obsession I imagine people with eating
disorders have because I have never been harmed, nor been in any danger
of being harmed, because of it. But I think about food constantly and
derive more pleasure from eating than do most people I know. Just thinking
about cutting into the flesh of a ripe melon or peach can send me on an
otherwise unnecessary trip to the grocery store at thirty below. As leavened
bread swells in the oven and gives off its warm, yeast scent of sex, my
body writhes in fits of spasms just before I sink into oblivion. The smell
of burning bread is what wakes me up again and makes me think of roasted
red peppers.
This painting is one in an ongoing series of paintings relating to food,
desire, and literature. Most in the series are more fantastical in their
imagery than "Mole," and were painted prior to the year 2000.
Since beginning this body of work, I have moved on to different subject
matters. Still, this subject keeps creeping back and when it does, I stray
from whatever it is I am working on to tend to this particular fire, as
all fires are worthy of tending
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