The art of celebration

I have been particularly reflective these past few weeks, as I find my feet hitting the pavement more. My heart and breathing create a rhythmic background for me to think. As of late, I have focused on what I can learn from the people around me because I believe we are drawn to people by what we can gleam from them. On this particular day, I decided to throw a pizza party, a party for two, no guests or invitations required. I knew Cameron was not having the best day and I wanted to do something special for him. After giving it some quick thought I knew pizza is really the key to my man's heart. Two pizzas I set out to create, BBQ chicken pizza with mozzarella, and parsley and the second Carmelized onions, ricotta, pecan and rosemary. Two pizzas, very different and yet reflective of their prospective eaters. The stage was set, the pizzas were made lingering in the oven to stay warm, the red and white makeshift placemats (dish towels), the Italian music playing in the background, the napkins artfully coming out of the glass, flowers and my little flag banners fluttering above the table. Some may say why go to all this trouble? why waste your time with all this unnecessary work? but the art of celebration is a skill I learned from my mother which is as inherent in me as my brown eyes. So parties for two ought to be a common occurrence and celebrating nothing in particular makes the day special and sets my heart a flutter.