- Published on
I can hardly believe it. NO WAY!
This is the last post of 2023 - where did the time go?
But here we are, so let's go out with a grand finale - a series of four abstracts (a four course meal) paired with a poem that grabbed me (a deep red wine with a heady bouquet and a lingering, oaky finish). For dessert? How about some winning readers (a warmed, rich berry pie topped with ice cream). Oh, oh and OH! Now we're going to need a long winter's nap.
This is the last post of 2023 - where did the time go?
But here we are, so let's go out with a grand finale - a series of four abstracts (a four course meal) paired with a poem that grabbed me (a deep red wine with a heady bouquet and a lingering, oaky finish). For dessert? How about some winning readers (a warmed, rich berry pie topped with ice cream). Oh, oh and OH! Now we're going to need a long winter's nap.
How to Apologize I
HOW TO APOLOGIZE - by Ellen Bass
Cook a large fish — choose one with many bones, a skeleton
you will need skill to expose, maybe the flying
silver carp that’s invaded the Great Lakes, tumbling
the others into oblivion. If you don’t live
near a lake, you’ll have to travel.
Walking is best and shows you mean it,
but you could take a train and let yourself
be soothed by the rocking
on the rails. It’s permitted
to receive solace for whatever you did
or didn’t do, pitiful, beautiful
human.
Cook a large fish — choose one with many bones, a skeleton
you will need skill to expose, maybe the flying
silver carp that’s invaded the Great Lakes, tumbling
the others into oblivion. If you don’t live
near a lake, you’ll have to travel.
Walking is best and shows you mean it,
but you could take a train and let yourself
be soothed by the rocking
on the rails. It’s permitted
to receive solace for whatever you did
or didn’t do, pitiful, beautiful
human.
When my mother was in the hospital,
my daughter and I had to clear out the home
she wouldn’t return to. Then she recovered
and asked, incredulous,
How could you have thrown out all my shoes?
So you’ll need a boat. You could rent or buy,
but, for the sake of repairing the world,
build your own. Thin strips
of Western red cedar are perfect,
but don’t cut a tree. There’ll be
a demolished barn or downed trunk
my daughter and I had to clear out the home
she wouldn’t return to. Then she recovered
and asked, incredulous,
How could you have thrown out all my shoes?
So you’ll need a boat. You could rent or buy,
but, for the sake of repairing the world,
build your own. Thin strips
of Western red cedar are perfect,
but don’t cut a tree. There’ll be
a demolished barn or downed trunk
How to Apologize II
How to Apologize III
If you venture further.
And someone will have a mill.
And someone will loan you tools.
The perfume of sawdust and the curls
that fall from your plane
will sweeten the hours. Each night
we dream thirty-six billion dreams. In one night
we could dream back everything lost.
So grill the pale flesh.
Unharness yourself from your weary stories.
Then carry the oily, succulent fish to the one you hurt.
There is much to fear as a creature
caught in time, but this
is safe. You need no defense. This
is just another way to know
you are alive.
So grill the pale flesh.
Unharness yourself from your weary stories.
Then carry the oily, succulent fish to the one you hurt.
There is much to fear as a creature
caught in time, but this
is safe. You need no defense. This
is just another way to know
you are alive.
How to Apologize IV
Thank you to everyone who participated in 2023's monthly Reader Giveaways. More than 25 parcels were delivered to lucky winners over twelve months. And the final winners of the year (selected at random by Wonder Mike) are: Dotty S. Trina T., C and Carl S. Email thewanderingsoflola@gmail.com with your shipping address, then watch your mailbox for a sweet surprise - and thanks so much for reading and commenting.
- Published on
"Double Dutch" - oil on cradled wood panel, 24 x 12 x 1.5 inches. Ready to hang. Available here and at Artfinder.
Mabel and Max were the local double dutch champions. Unbeatable, unstoppable jump ropers. When they were interviewed for the neighborhood newsletter and asked what their secret was, they just stared. Intimidating. Oh!
Double Dutch
Double Dare You
"Double Dare You" - oil on yupo, 22 x 21.5. Available here and at Artfinder.
Eleanor was absolutely positive that Milo was a big chicken. Afraid of his own shadow, hiding behind the curtains, nervous about every little noise - it was ridiculous. So she double dared him every day to come out and do something brave. She was known for her determination and grit. What could Milo do? He had to say yes. Eleanor was scary!
A double dose of malarkey today, as the last random rabbit and a new monster make their debut. I can't seem to stay away from these youngsters and their monstrous playmates - it feels cheeky and slightly beyond the pale.
Many thanks to all who have used the READERPERKS50 coupon to grab art, art cards and books! There are just two more days to use your coupon - then the shop will open for the ONCE A YEAR GET EM WHILE YOU CAN BEFORE I GO WILD WITH THE GESSO sale. Last year dozens of paintings flew the coop, and another bunch got vandalized with gesso -I can hardly wait!
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The Werewolf Often Dines Alone
"The Werewolf Often Dines Alone" - oil on cradled panel, 18 x 24 x .75 inches. Ready to hang. Available here and at Unlimited IPA through the end of October.
He's not proud of his table manners. He can't help the mess at mealtime. If you're not particular about these things, there is a werewolf who would love your company at dinner.
October, the month of monsters, has arrived.
Here in the studio, the summer was overrun with the creation of monstrosities for this month's show at Unlimited IPA, where the owners asked me to show something a little...peculiar. Oh yes. Please and thank you.
He's not proud of his table manners. He can't help the mess at mealtime. If you're not particular about these things, there is a werewolf who would love your company at dinner.
October, the month of monsters, has arrived.
Here in the studio, the summer was overrun with the creation of monstrosities for this month's show at Unlimited IPA, where the owners asked me to show something a little...peculiar. Oh yes. Please and thank you.
Traditionally, monsters (werewolves, vampires, ghouls, zombies - OH MY!) are something to be frightened of, to run from - things that make you scream.
But what if, just for a change, we walk in the shoes of a monster? Do they have feelings? Are they lonely? Are they sad? Do they find joy in simple things? Are they worried about how they look, what others think, how to find friends?
The show explores the pitfalls of being a werewolf, the romantic interests of monsters and the joys of making a monster your friend. I hope it leaves you looking under your bed with a smile. :)
The Downside of Lycanthropy runs through October 31 at Unlimited IPA in Portland, Oregon and right here. Comments, feedback and goosebumps are welcome.
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"Cowboy Pink" - oil on canvas panel, 20 x 24. Available here, at Artfinder and at Bluethumb.
“Why were you feeling low?’ ‘Why does anyone? It creeps up on you from time to time.”
― Patrick deWitt, The Sisters Brothers
“Why were you feeling low?’ ‘Why does anyone? It creeps up on you from time to time.”
― Patrick deWitt, The Sisters Brothers
Here at Malarkey Central, there is a lot of pink going on.
It began with a vague idea of things with pink balloons. Which led to all sorts of shenanigans. And then appeared the cowboys. Isn't there a color called cowboy pink?
Color can surprise us - pink can be sorrowful as well as syrupy. It can be scary as well as soothing. And because we don't expect it to be anything other than sweet, in these other contexts it opens something in the heart before we can begin to put up our defenses. The ultimate in sneaky.
It began with a vague idea of things with pink balloons. Which led to all sorts of shenanigans. And then appeared the cowboys. Isn't there a color called cowboy pink?
Color can surprise us - pink can be sorrowful as well as syrupy. It can be scary as well as soothing. And because we don't expect it to be anything other than sweet, in these other contexts it opens something in the heart before we can begin to put up our defenses. The ultimate in sneaky.
Cowboy Pink
As it often happens with the art, this piece remained silent until we were reading The Sisters Brothers (for the second time), and I knew there was a thread connecting that couple of hit-men-for-hire in the old west with this contemplative cowboy.
Sorrow creeps up on everyone from time to time.
About the art: the AI bot loves pink. I could spend hours just instructing it to make outlandish scenes in shades of pink. This piece is inspired by a series of cowboy images, all dripping in pink. Beginning with a canvas panel and applying layers of liquin-thinned pinks, alternating between rubber wedge and brush to create texture. A rough figure sketch in the middle, keeping the hot spots of pink close to the cowboy and letting it "cool" toward the edges. Alternating layers of darks and lights to create shadows and folds in the clothing. Creating "flowers" with loose brush strokes and resisting the urge to perfect them. A final touch of the lightest lights with a palette knife.
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"Whither Shall We Wander?" - oil on paper, 20.5 x 20.5. Available here, at Artfinder and at Bluethumb.
If you simply do what everyone else has already done, you will be rewarded with the same mediocre results everyone else has already gotten. The only model for success is to avoid most of the world’s models for success. - MARK MANSON
If you simply do what everyone else has already done, you will be rewarded with the same mediocre results everyone else has already gotten. The only model for success is to avoid most of the world’s models for success. - MARK MANSON
Here we go a'wandering...but which way shall we go? Manson gives us a clue - NOT the way everyone else says to go. NOT the way others go. NOT the way the books say, the articles advise, the neighbors nudge. Which means, of course, go the other way.
It is a massive trust fall to go the other way. A risk! A dare! A danger! But there lie the rewards. Things unexpected, something hitherto unseen.
It is a massive trust fall to go the other way. A risk! A dare! A danger! But there lie the rewards. Things unexpected, something hitherto unseen.
Whither Shall We Wander?
Whether it is the direction you point the art you are creating, your professional life, your personal life or your feet on the path every day, going the other way from everyone else is not the easiest route. There may be catcalls, heckling, judging, name-calling, intentional sabotage or tossed tomatoes. Once you're standing in the place of wonder, you may no longer even care what the naysayers are up to. Let's go there.
About the art: This piece was inspired by the AI bot, which very much loves to give this view of characters - from behind, silhouetted, wondering what they're thinking, seeing, feeling. It grabs me, this view, which leaves me with more questions than answers.
Choosing a color palette inspired by the artist Fritz Scholder and an illustrative style more like Möbius (Jean Geraud) (I am a big fan of mash-ups, in art and in music) and beginning with a light pencil sketch to delineate the horizon line and the figures. Working from the horizon line outward with a rubber wedge and liquin-thinned oil paint, adding layers until colors begin to pop off of one another. Making the darks darker, and darker, and darker even while allowing tiny highlights to remain. As always, resisting the urge to define exactly what is out there on the horizon, allowing the viewer's imagination to complete the painting.
Choosing a color palette inspired by the artist Fritz Scholder and an illustrative style more like Möbius (Jean Geraud) (I am a big fan of mash-ups, in art and in music) and beginning with a light pencil sketch to delineate the horizon line and the figures. Working from the horizon line outward with a rubber wedge and liquin-thinned oil paint, adding layers until colors begin to pop off of one another. Making the darks darker, and darker, and darker even while allowing tiny highlights to remain. As always, resisting the urge to define exactly what is out there on the horizon, allowing the viewer's imagination to complete the painting.
Big congratulations to Kyle J and Liz W! Wonder Mike and Lilly drew your names as winners of the August Reader Giveaway! Huzzah!
Email your address to the shipping team at thewanderingsoflola@gmail.com to claim your prize! Thanks for participating - look for a new giveaway at the end of September!
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A Point in Every Direction
"A Point in Every Direction" - oil on canvas, 15 x 30 x .75. Ready to hang. Available here, at Artfinder and at Bluethumb.
“A point in every direction is the same as no point at all.” - The Pointed Man, Harry Nilsson's The Point
“A point in every direction is the same as no point at all.” - The Pointed Man, Harry Nilsson's The Point
We've emerged from Wonderland, dear reader.
But where do we go from here? Is wandering in every direction the same thing as being directionless? And is directionlessness even a bad thing? Well. Hmmm.
The modern world seems focused on goals, achievement, certainty, confidence and success. And these are worthy things. Yet I am drawn to pull in the other direction (which is, as it were, directionlessness - how confusing!). A good wander may end up in failure. A wander is at its core without purpose. Wandering requires a certain confidence, I suppose, but it is most certainly without certainty! Aha! Methinks perhaps a bit of Wonderland has stuck onto our shoes and followed us back to the studio...
But where do we go from here? Is wandering in every direction the same thing as being directionless? And is directionlessness even a bad thing? Well. Hmmm.
The modern world seems focused on goals, achievement, certainty, confidence and success. And these are worthy things. Yet I am drawn to pull in the other direction (which is, as it were, directionlessness - how confusing!). A good wander may end up in failure. A wander is at its core without purpose. Wandering requires a certain confidence, I suppose, but it is most certainly without certainty! Aha! Methinks perhaps a bit of Wonderland has stuck onto our shoes and followed us back to the studio...
So, as I set out for a good creative wander this month, I find myself in a full-circle moment: in the fifth grade at Zellers Elementary School, I played the part of one of the Three Fat Sisters in the school production of Nilsson's "The Point". In the role, I had pillows strapped all around me and basically performed a bumper-car dance across the stage. Which is kind of sort of what I am doing right now in the paint. Wanna join me?
They're here!
Thanks to reader Dotty S (with further encouragement from reader Carol E and others) this boxed set of Alice in Wonderland (plus a few other fantasy characters) art cards just arrived from the printers and is ready to make mischief on your altar, vision board, manifesting space or wherever you want to be inspired.
Thirteen images on silken card stock (one for each month plus one extra). Get them here (or click on the image)
Note: This is a limited edition boxed set. Get yours before they're gone!
Thanks to reader Dotty S (with further encouragement from reader Carol E and others) this boxed set of Alice in Wonderland (plus a few other fantasy characters) art cards just arrived from the printers and is ready to make mischief on your altar, vision board, manifesting space or wherever you want to be inspired.
Thirteen images on silken card stock (one for each month plus one extra). Get them here (or click on the image)
Note: This is a limited edition boxed set. Get yours before they're gone!
- Published on
The Time of Year for Storytelling
"The Time of Year for Storytelling" - oil on canvas, 26 x 31.5 x .75. Ready to hang. Available here, at Artfinder and at Bluethumb.
Our culture doesn’t think storytelling is sacred; we don’t set aside a time of year for it. We don’t hold anything sacred except what organized religion declares to be so. Artists pursue a sacred call, although some would buck and rear at having their work labeled like this. Artists are lucky to have a form in which to express themselves; there is a sacredness about that, and a terrific sense of responsibility. We’ve got to do it right. Why do we have to do it right? Because that’s the whole point: either it’s right or it’s all wrong.
- URSULA K. LE GUIN
Our culture doesn’t think storytelling is sacred; we don’t set aside a time of year for it. We don’t hold anything sacred except what organized religion declares to be so. Artists pursue a sacred call, although some would buck and rear at having their work labeled like this. Artists are lucky to have a form in which to express themselves; there is a sacredness about that, and a terrific sense of responsibility. We’ve got to do it right. Why do we have to do it right? Because that’s the whole point: either it’s right or it’s all wrong.
- URSULA K. LE GUIN
The fairytale characters are leaping off the walls here at Malarkey Central. The stories are epic and varied and wild.
Le Guin is speaking right to me with this quote. I've been pondering the responsibility I have as an artist.
I mean, we want to go into the studio thinking LET THE WILD RUMPUS BEGIN and not worry about what we're saying with our work and why. But if we want to tell a story - a story that connects with other humans, expands or explains their experiences, delights or sobers or thrills or saddens - then we've got to do it right. Which brings us 'round to being present with the process. Following the muse. Exploring the dark (and light) corners. Making sense (or nonsense) with the constant thrum underneath of the knowledge that it is sacred.
This piece lingered in the studio. I didn't know at first what it wanted, what it was saying or why I felt drawn to paint it. I know now. It ultimately whispered gently to me, a soft voice among all of the loud ruckus of the other characters on the walls.
The question becomes, what is it whispering to you?
I mean, we want to go into the studio thinking LET THE WILD RUMPUS BEGIN and not worry about what we're saying with our work and why. But if we want to tell a story - a story that connects with other humans, expands or explains their experiences, delights or sobers or thrills or saddens - then we've got to do it right. Which brings us 'round to being present with the process. Following the muse. Exploring the dark (and light) corners. Making sense (or nonsense) with the constant thrum underneath of the knowledge that it is sacred.
This piece lingered in the studio. I didn't know at first what it wanted, what it was saying or why I felt drawn to paint it. I know now. It ultimately whispered gently to me, a soft voice among all of the loud ruckus of the other characters on the walls.
The question becomes, what is it whispering to you?
About the art - the AI bot loves when we play with antlered creatures and the style of Edgar Degas. This means the bot puts antlers on everyone and ultimately tutus as well. Which is quite entertaining but often downright silly.
Once in a while, though, the images become profoundly moving and bring tears to my eyes, as did the fodder for this piece.
This one was all about resisting the use of color, keeping the creature shadowy within the forest and allowing our dancer to be in a "spotlight" in the painting. Many layers of glazing in a dance of "pushing back, pulling forward" while keeping things soft. A final layer of Gamvar gloss over this one gives it a museum feel. Oh!
Once in a while, though, the images become profoundly moving and bring tears to my eyes, as did the fodder for this piece.
This one was all about resisting the use of color, keeping the creature shadowy within the forest and allowing our dancer to be in a "spotlight" in the painting. Many layers of glazing in a dance of "pushing back, pulling forward" while keeping things soft. A final layer of Gamvar gloss over this one gives it a museum feel. Oh!
work in process
Malarkey Central is now at Bluethumb!
Check out all your favorites at a whole new venue. Super delighted and STOKED to be part of this online gallery!
- Published on
The Beliefs That Cloud Your Vision
Come new to this
day. Remove the rigid
overcoat of experience,
the nothing of knowing,
the beliefs that could
your vision.
Leave behind the stories of your life. Spit out the
sour taste of unmet expectation.
Let the stale scent of what-ifs
waft back into the swamp
of your useless fears.
from 'Prescription for the Disillusioned" by Rebecca del Rio
day. Remove the rigid
overcoat of experience,
the nothing of knowing,
the beliefs that could
your vision.
Leave behind the stories of your life. Spit out the
sour taste of unmet expectation.
Let the stale scent of what-ifs
waft back into the swamp
of your useless fears.
from 'Prescription for the Disillusioned" by Rebecca del Rio
Here is the thing about rabbit holes - the deeper you go, the more you discover. And sometimes what you find is not what you'd hoped for, not what you imagined, not what you wanted. But there it is. And once you've seen it, you cannot unsee it.
Alice in Wonderland is an allegory for many things. The more time I spend there, the more it becomes, well, a bit personal. How cheeky! But this is what happens when an artist crawls into a theme and shines a light on every little thing. Somehow, magically, life itself becomes illuminated.
I'm curious...and curiouser. What do you see in this piece, dear reader?
Alice in Wonderland is an allegory for many things. The more time I spend there, the more it becomes, well, a bit personal. How cheeky! But this is what happens when an artist crawls into a theme and shines a light on every little thing. Somehow, magically, life itself becomes illuminated.
I'm curious...and curiouser. What do you see in this piece, dear reader?
The Wildest of the Wild
It's COMING!
A Song for the Hunted is nearly here! Join mixed media mosaic artist Helaine Abramson and me as we explore wolves and women in a new show that pushes our creative boundaries while celebrating the bonds we share as women and wildlings.
Show opens July first and runs all month long, right here at www.lolajovan.com/exhibits
A Song for the Hunted is nearly here! Join mixed media mosaic artist Helaine Abramson and me as we explore wolves and women in a new show that pushes our creative boundaries while celebrating the bonds we share as women and wildlings.
Show opens July first and runs all month long, right here at www.lolajovan.com/exhibits
- Published on
Fairy tales were a natural fit for the fantastical imagination of the young artist. Since her earliest childhood, she seemed to dwell partway between the real world, with its disproportionate share of losses and hardships, and some otherworldly wonderland of levity and light — a wonderland Virginia could now bring to life for the world.
- from THE MARGINALIAN, on the life and art of teenage artist Virginia Francis Sterrett by Maria Popover.
- from THE MARGINALIAN, on the life and art of teenage artist Virginia Francis Sterrett by Maria Popover.
The fairytale crowd are corralled into the studio waiting area this week, as we pause to mention the lives of crows. Alice and her cohorts will return next week with gusto.
Rocky and Natasha, our adopted crow family, seem to have lost not one, but two fledglings this season. Their little departed selves ended up in our vicinity, so we scooped them up and gave them a proper farewell.
Rocky and Natasha, our adopted crow family, seem to have lost not one, but two fledglings this season. Their little departed selves ended up in our vicinity, so we scooped them up and gave them a proper farewell.
Losses and Hardships
One of the crows (Natasha, we believe) spent a few late afternoons on the birdbath near the tiny memorial site, watery-eyed and listless. We know that crows do mourn, and we thought perhaps she was (and hoped she was not ill). We sat with her when we could, softly talking and making our own (awkward) crow sounds.
I suppose we have created a fairytale around these two city crows. We watch them, make up stories about what they're doing or thinking, add a wonderland of levity and light to their little lives. We illustrate with our words, appreciate with our eyes and connect with our hearts. Anthropomorphism at its best.
What we really want to know is - what stories do they conjure about us?
I suppose we have created a fairytale around these two city crows. We watch them, make up stories about what they're doing or thinking, add a wonderland of levity and light to their little lives. We illustrate with our words, appreciate with our eyes and connect with our hearts. Anthropomorphism at its best.
What we really want to know is - what stories do they conjure about us?
About the art - beginning with a crow photo and a ton of words about mourning and crows for the AI bot, I finally landed on an inspiration image that combined both birds and abstracts into something emotionally representative (in my eyes).
A piece of square, thin plywood left to me by my recently departed art friend seemed the perfect substrate for this subject. Beginning with thinned oil paint and the basic background, adding the crows one brushstroke at a time and resisting the urge to perfect the details. Walking back to look, walking forward to dab. This piece has been varnished with Gamvar Gloss, an odorless varnish which brings out every bit of color.
A piece of square, thin plywood left to me by my recently departed art friend seemed the perfect substrate for this subject. Beginning with thinned oil paint and the basic background, adding the crows one brushstroke at a time and resisting the urge to perfect the details. Walking back to look, walking forward to dab. This piece has been varnished with Gamvar Gloss, an odorless varnish which brings out every bit of color.
Congratulations, Molly and Dotty! Wonder Mike and Lilly drew your names out of a bag of treats - you're the winners of the June Reader Giveaway! Watch your mailboxes for a little original art coming your way. And thanks SO MUCH for participating!
- Published on
Impossible Things Before Breakfast
"Impossible Things Before Breakfast" - oil on cradled wood panel, 18 x 24 x .75. Ready to hang. Available here and at Artfinder.
Alice laughed. “There’s no use trying,” she said: “one can’t believe impossible things.”
“I daresay you haven’t had much practice,” said the Queen. “When I was your age, I always did it for half-an-hour a day. Why, sometimes I’ve believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast.”
- Lewis Carroll, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland
Alice laughed. “There’s no use trying,” she said: “one can’t believe impossible things.”
“I daresay you haven’t had much practice,” said the Queen. “When I was your age, I always did it for half-an-hour a day. Why, sometimes I’ve believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast.”
- Lewis Carroll, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland
Oh, let's DO believe in impossible things!
On our bookshelf here at home sits a growing collection of science fiction. Some as old as 1950, others as recent as 2022. When you read a span 70+ years of futuristic imaginings, it is easy to see how many of these "impossibilities" are now quite real.
On our bookshelf here at home sits a growing collection of science fiction. Some as old as 1950, others as recent as 2022. When you read a span 70+ years of futuristic imaginings, it is easy to see how many of these "impossibilities" are now quite real.
As artists, writers and creators, we are charged with the mission of imagining the impossible, the improbable, the unlikely and the peculiar. Whether it is Alice in her best insectoid tea-serving form or the unsettling emotions of being human captured and rendered into a treasure of experience and deep beauty, or the landscape of a hidden mountain pass covered in mist and made magical for those who may never get to place two feet in that place - we carve a path in the human continuum that makes space for the unlikely to blossom into existence. Whoa.
Click on the image to link to the video
Here's a link to a 1960's BBC version of Alice In Wonderland. Mary Jean St Clair, the granddaughter of Alice Liddell, had a lot of concerns about this rendition. As a descendant of the girl who inspired Lewis Carroll's story. she worried that "the film would make her grandmother ‘appear into some sort of strange person’ when ‘[s]he was not’. The BBC version was not intended for children, and doesn't even use costumes! I admit to not having watched it in its entirety. But I am fascinate by this very peculiar version of Alice.
About the art: beginning with a wood panel with a very smooth surface treatment (almost as slippery as Yupo) and adding layers of dark, liquin- thinned oil paint. Moving the paint with a large rubber wedge to create a spider-web effect in the background and letting the darkness fade into the bright foreground. A rough sketch of "Alice" with thinned paint, then off to the races in creating this quirky piece. Final details with a small brush.
The AI bot and I are now on the same page about Alice. Together we are well down the rabbit hole of peculiarity and improbable Alices. It is absolutely delicious.
