The cost of impatience
To graduate from cooking school I was required to do a three month internship. My friend was the chef at an executive dining room of an international bank on Wall Street. She arranged for me to work with her and her top-notch staff.
The sous chef had demonstrated how to assemble a tower of grilled veggies and present them beautifully on a plate. Practicing on my own, I had gotten as far as cutting, assembling and cooking, but the plating had not gone well. When asked to prepare the dish for customers waiting in the dining room, I held my breath and I may have closed my eyes during the delicate grill-to-plate transfer operation.
The tower came undone and zuchini went flying in all directions. To make it worse, I shrieked so loudly that some waiters rushed into the kitchen looking for casualties. I was mortified. My lack of experience coupled with impatience and anxiety prevented me from going slowly, focusing and seeing it through.
What has all this got to do with my painting of a bald cyprus? While I have painted this tree a number of times, I haven’t given it the time and practice needed in order to get the desired outcome. Seems like sometimes I’m just too impatient.
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