Volume 2, Issue vi
Wild Greens 2, no. 6 (April 2022)
Welcome to the April 2022 issue of Wild Greens
I was at a wedding where the best man, already married, gave a bit of sage advice to the groom. The key to maintaining a happy marriage? “Always carry snacks.” I still think about this a lot. Best man, wherever you are, you’ve given advice not just for a happy marriage, but for a happy life.
Welcome to the April issue of Wild Greens. Our first featured piece is a self-portrait in micron pen of a hungry artist, telling us the cardinal rule of creating: “don’t draw hungry!” And on that note I implore you, don’t read hungry either! Grab a snack and let’s dig in.
Melissa Lomax’s recipe for a "Peach Berry Smoothie" is guaranteed* to transport you to a beach somewhere. Just don’t tell the strawberries what’s in the smoothie.
Myra Chappius’s saucy poem, "Dinner for Two," takes the idea of snack time to a new level. It’s just a suggestion. Take a short break, come back and enjoy the rest of the issue.
Have you ever been told to eat the rainbow as a health guideline? Did that mean gummy bears? Sam Ken’s “Food Studies” use greens, yellows, and reds to paint two very different snack foods. Choose one or choose both, either side is delicious!
Memories of food whisk us away to places visited and roads trodden in Fern Marshall’s “Crumbs.” Fern’s essay is a reminder to pause and enjoy small pleasures. And in the spirit of small pleasures, the smallest and most magical snack of all (popcorn!) gets its day in Melissa Lomax’s comic “Popcorn Time.” Popcorn is magic because the kernels look unassuming and then, BAM! Fluffy white morsels of goodness. Making popcorn is an exercise in creativity—it’s a simple snack that can be recreated in dozens of ways depending on your mood. In my household, our favorite flavor combination uses nutritional yeast, Old Bay, and butter. How do you prefer your popcorn? Should you go make some right now? Too much about popcorn in the editor’s note?
In the latest Turtle and Hare by Lauren Kimball, Turtle is surprised to stumble across a game of hide and seek. It’s Easter at the grocery store… can you guess where young Hare is hiding?
Gratia Serpento’s short fiction "Teatime" finds refuge in a tea party, inhabiting the world of a child who protects herself from the tumult of her family with make-believe. Clement DaVinci’s watercolor doughnuts are so enticingly sweet in color that I want to reach into the issue and grab one for myself.
Robin Brownfield’s mosaic adapts a cookbook made famous by the Twilight Zone. Who says mosaics can’t be funny?
Jacqui Gray’s essay “Moreish Morsels” reflects on her lifelong love of snacking, of small bites, and of always having a little bit more. There is always room for a sweet treat, Jacqui writes, “Now. Later. Or precisely when I’m ready.”
We hope you enjoy indulging in this issue with us. Have your fill, and then maybe have a little more. After all, it’s Snack Time.
*Note: the Wild Greens editors cannot in any way guarantee you will be physically transported to a beach.
If you like the issue, you can donate to Wild Greens through our Ko-fi page!
Don't Draw Hungry
by Lynne Marie Rosenberg
Methods: Drawing and hunger
Inspiration: In truth, it stemmed from a conversation with fellow Wild Greens artist Sam Ken about a miserable experience attempting to take a portraiture class while hungry.
Peach Berry Smoothie
by Melissa Lomax
Inspiration: A COOL and healthy option on a HOT day! For a thinner consistency add a splash of milk (dairy or vegetarian). You can also make this smoothie dairy free, with some fresh juice and ice cubes. Enjoy experimenting with things like: unique fruits, nutritious seeds, oats, and I'm thinking… CHOCOLATE. This artwork has been featured on They-Draw.com and was digitally created with a dash of whimsy!
Dinner for Two
by Myra Chappius
Hunger takes over
It is barely mid-afternoon, yet the craving has hit
Felt deep in the belly, down low
A fluttery, rumbling familiarity
The anticipation of satisfaction is almost as fulfilling as satiation
Lost in daydream – of skin prickling under the lightest touch
A graze of teeth, a rush of breath
Strands of hair tangled in a watch, trailing down the pointed peaks of spine
Sensations growing as the hours tick by
With eyes shut tight, a recalling of taste
Briny – the flavor of warmth
Memory tied to instant salivation, wanting
A recognizable flush
A building desire
The meal – inedible, yet filling
Prepared on a slow, rolling simmer, served at the witching hour, with one carefully selected, longstanding guest
Complete – with a sweet finish
If you like the issue, you can donate to Wild Greens through our Ko-fi page!
by Sam Ken
Oil on stretched canvas
Methods: Alla prima
Inspiration: Still life studies focusing on shape, value and reflection. Using food as a still life reference is great because it is always around, and I can eat it when I am done painting.
by Fern Marshall
Last night I thought about writing this piece before bed, but instead I made myself a mug of decaf tea and a little plate filled with tiny salty triangles of Manchego cheese, crunchy sourdough crackers, and a handful of large white chocolate buttons. I grew up with snacks entwined into my day, midmorning elevenses and afternoon tea. Snacks planned and snacks anticipated. The snack drawer was, still is, at the bottom of an old dark wood cupboard which squeaks as you pulled it out, announcing your intention to the room.
When I asked my loved ones about their favourite snacks a few days ago they responded quickly. They understood it to be an important question, one to be taken seriously. Chocolate of course, but how to narrow it down? Answers were shared — paprika crisps, orange flavoured dark chocolate, Marmite biscuits, popcorn, cacao, left over pizza, roasted and salted cashews, Cadbury’s caramel chocolate bar, sea salt and balsamic vinegar crisps, handfuls of salted peanuts before dinner. I called my mum to learn more about her choices — her love of chocolate raisins and salted crisps reaching back to her childhood, faithful companions throughout her life. The raisins first discovered in one particular train station vending machine as a teenager and the cheaper, broken crisps bought from a small local shop as a child, sold with a damp twist of salt.
I sift through my memories. A tarnished green biscuit tin from my childhood full of digestives or malted milks to be dipped in a mug of tea. Viennese whirls eaten with my grandfather, Popsy, fingers and lips covered with powdered sugar and crumbs. A small brown paper bag filled with aniseed balls, bought by my dad on a long grey day far from home. A bright pink iced doughnut from a small bakery in a quiet town near Amsterdam, the perfect texture and sweetness. In Venice, small round biscuits filled with hazelnut cream for breakfast in the rented apartment, heat already creeping in through the heavy wooden shutters. The tiny bags of sour cream and onion pretzels they used to hand out for free on flights between the UK and Ireland. A soft peanut butter sandwich with the crusts cut off, a gentle and surprising gesture from a mostly uncaring man. A bag of hot golden fries on the way back from an evening swim in the summer sea, light fading, salty fingers on the steering wheel.
Now more than ever, I try to pay attention to the small pleasures of life. I have a snack shelf, of course. There are salted caramel toffees, a box of almond chocolate cookie sticks, biscuits topped with pink mallow & raspberry flavour jam, sprinkled with coconut – each treat the opportunity for a moment of joy. As I type this there is a Creme Egg beside me, ready to be devoured. When things feel hopeless or overwhelming, I think about the next delicious treat in my future and things feel a little brighter.
by Melissa Lomax
Graphite, digital watercolor
Inspiration: My husband and I enjoy an at-home movie night and making our own air-popped popcorn. Adding some fun seasonings can really spice things up! Two of our favorite combinations are melted butter and hot sauce or olive oil, cracked pepper, and dried herbs. My comic, Doodle Town runs bi-weekly on DoodleTownComic.com. Please POP by to follow along and let me know your favorite popcorn combination!
Hide and Seek
by Lauren Kimball
by Gratia Serpento
The yelling echoes from the living room, matching the yelling of yesterday's argument. Same sounds, different reasons. No one knows why they're fighting, but everyone can hear it.
I stay in my little room on the second floor, surrounded by my toys and blankets and a paint-stained coffee table my grandpa found at a garage sale. I had taken some of Mom's wine glasses and Dad's coffee mugs and placed them in a circle on my coffee table—we didn't have any fancy teacups, after all, and a girl had to make do with what she had.
I use my Uno! cards as coasters. I pour a little bit of milk into each glass and mug, all six of them, and add drops of blue food dye. With a gentle swirl, white turns to my favorite color, matching the color of the rainstorm outside.
I put on the pink dress I once wore for my cousin's wedding, and I stack my stuffed animals around the table, putting boas and hair ties on their wrists and on their heads.
To my guests, I whisper, "Welcome to Lady Lemon's Annual Tea Party!" I grab my coffee cup and stick my pinky out. "Let's eat!"
I dip an Oreo into my glass of milk and watch as the chocolate chunks disappear into the blue liquid. I know, once I drink down to the bottom, I'll get a mouthful of chocolate.
"Miss Hallie, would you pass the sugar lumps?" I reach over and use the stuffed bear’s paw to push the cheese cubes closer to me. "Thank you, ma'am. I appreciate it."
I focus on the sounds of my own giggles and pretend that I don’t hear the yelling and shouting and door slamming coming from downstairs. I munch on the Oreos and cheese cubes instead of watching the ways the walls shake from the blistering storm.
I try to focus on my own slice of paradise. It's not much, but it's everything. It's a paradise I find with a mismatched tea party.
A Sweet Morning
by Clement DaVinci
To Serve Man
by Robin Brownfield
Tile, three-dimensional snacks
Inspiration: I have a love/hate relationship with food. Having been very strict and disciplined about what I eat to get rid of all the COVID lockdown weight I gained, when I saw the theme “Snack Time” my mind immediately entered the Twilight Zone. My dark sense of humor took over, as I realized there’s no humor in mosaics. I had to change that! In this one, the snack is three-dimensional and tasty.
by Jacqui Gray
On Christmas mornings, when I was young, my brother and I would wake before the sun had properly risen, discover our pillow cases bulging magically at the bottom of our beds, and open our presents excitedly together. While my brother would dive in, tearing the paper off his, I’d open mine more tentatively, taking care with the paper, lingering, pausing between each gift, enjoying knowing there were plenty more to open. I’d always leave one present unopened, to enjoy later. It’s not really that different with snacks. I always like to have one more I can come back to.
Snacks, in my view, can suit covert gluttons like me. As they’re bite sized, I can go back for more, and more, without getting full, prolonging the eating experience. I can also start off small and build up, with all the sweet anticipation that brings. And I can follow up one taste experience with a different one, savoury then sweet, or crunchy then creamy, indulging my gustatory sense with a revolving menu of flavours and textures according to my precise whim.
I enjoy food, it’s fair to say. As a child, little rituals bound up with snacks punctuated my week. On Saturday mornings, shopping trips with my mother would include her buying me some sweets to bring home. It was something I took for granted. On the one occasion I accompanied my friend on a shopping trip with her mother, and no sweets materialized, it came as a shock. On Sunday afternoons, my father would take my brother and me to a little corner shop near our home and buy some family treats: sweets for us children, along with his favourite bar of rum-and-raisin-flavoured chocolate for himself. Needless to say, I often helped him eat it. At school as a five-year-old, I looked forward to the school tuck shop each morning. There were biscuits and chocolate wagon wheels to crunch on with friends, and little bottles of milk that we drank through straws. And as I grew older, when trips to the seaside and the zoo were highlights of the school year, a central pleasure of the excursion for me was eating my favourite treats on the journey. Once the coach began to transport us on our way, the trip became one long feast of snacks, devoured with my hyper classmates on the velour seats as the countryside sped past.
When school was over for the year, and the long, languorous summer holidays beckoned, I would stay with my grandparents. My days there were packed with exciting walks in the nearby forest and blissful rides on my scooter in their rural garden, all set against a constant backdrop of special treats to eat. It was spoiling in a way that only grandparents can. Each morning, I would wake and find a treat had been miraculously left under my pillow. A boiled sweet, or maybe a toffee. By the end of my holiday, the treat would have grown into a regular-sized chocolate bar. I’d gobble it down immediately, and then granny would bring me tea and biscuits in bed. How I managed to eat my breakfast, I don’t know, but I did. My favourite ritual was near bedtime. Every evening, just before nine, granny would announce it was supper time and would invite me to look inside her big, walk-in larder and choose something to eat. I remember selecting crisps and cheese, chocolate cake and tiny ring doughnuts with crackly lemon icing. I was in snack heaven.
Later, as a student at college, I would while away my lunch break with a friend in a tiny café that was housed in a 17th century black-and-white timbered building. I would always choose the same things: a milky coffee and a small chocolate wafer bar. Sitting on a high-backed wooden seat in this warm, ancient space was like being closeted in a calm sanctuary, in a world outside of the busy college day. The familiar, unchanging snack I enjoyed there was a key part of that daily, comforting ritual.
As an adult, there have been moments over the years when I’ve been more concerned that I’ve run out of snacks than I have been when I’ve run out of basic food items. Many’s the time I’ve made an emergency trip to the grocery store to buy chocolate or cakes when my snack supply has run dry. As time has gone on, I’ve expanded snacks into healthier light meals that, for example, incorporate more fruit and vegetables. But I still want to eat a sweet dessert. Much more enjoyable, I find, is to eat more lightly— graze— and leave some room to enjoy a sweet treat. Now. Later. Or precisely when I’m ready.
See behind the scenes of Wild Greens. Our Ko-fi page contains concept art for past issues.
Artists and Contributors
Lynne Marie Rosenberg
Lynne Marie Rosenberg (she/her) is a performer turned advocate turned Emmy-nominated content maker turned visual artist. She is the host and creator of the interview show, "Famous Cast Words" on New York's PBS affiliate station, ALL ARTS, and the one-person-band behind the Etsy store, Hungry Bodhisattva. Lynne works predominantly in graphite and ink with additional forays into charcoal, watercolor, and stop motion animation. www.LynneMarieRosenberg.com, IG: @LynneMarieRosenberg VENMO: @Lynne-Rosenberg-1
Melissa Lomax (she/her) is a freelance illustrator, art teacher, and cartoonist, with 20 years of experience in the creative industry. Some of her clients include American Greetings, Recycled Paper Greetings, Sellers Publishing and Highlights for Children. Her comic 'Doodle Town' posts on GoComics.com, the largest catalog of syndicated cartoons and comics. When she is not in the art studio, she enjoys spending time in nature, drinking really good coffee, and 'everyday adventures' with her husband. Pop by her Instagram @melissalomaxart for weekly inspiration!
Myra’s passion for writing began at a young age. While her early focus was on poetry, she has expanded in recent years to short fiction and is currently at work on a full-length novel. She is an avid reader with a deep love for cinema, theatre and a nice cup of tea.
Follow Myra on Instagram at @inwordform and purchase her work on Amazon or Revere by J.Nicole
Sam (he/his) is an oil painter and sketch artist that currently resides in Colorado Springs, Colorado. He currently specializes in portraits and figurative paintings, but is always in search of ways to challenge and express himself. His inspirations include, but are not limited to, John Singer Sargent, Mary Cassatt, Karl Kopinski, and Jane French.
Follow him on Instagram @samkenart, or find him on Etsy, Facebook, and Ko-Fi: @samkenart
Fern Marshall (she/her) is a writer and welfare rights worker based In Edinburgh, Scotland. Writing is a source of solace and escape for her, with a focus on nature and mental health. Her work has appeared in Little Livingroom and BlueHouse Journal. She is on Instagram, @fernmarshal.
Lauren Kimball (she/her) lives in Philadelphia. She teaches literature and composition at Rutgers University- New Brunswick. In her spare time, she plays with paint, digital pens, words, and home improvement tools.
Gratia Serpento (she/her) is an Oregonian poet/journalist. She has had works published with Poor Yorick, Wingless Dreamer, Pile Press, The Graveyard Zine, Crystal Crush magazine, Sheepshead Review, and The Scriblerus, among others. Check out her Instagram (@poet_serpento) for news/updates, previous/upcoming publications, and whatever else she decides to post.
Clement DaVinci has been working and living in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania for over almost 30 years as a graphic designer. Watercolors have become his sole passion. He is a current member of the PWCS (Philadelphia Watercolor Society), and Delaware Valley Art League. His work has been featured in many Philadelphia area shows. You can find more of his work at
http://www.getadavinci.com/ or https://www.instagram.com/watercolorsbydavinci/
Robin Brownfield (she/her) is a former sociology professor who turned to art after becoming disabled. While she dabbles in numerous art forms, she finds mosaic art is a great way to recycle old materials and found objects. She has created murals, garden walkways, and countless other mosaic works, but she especially enjoys creating portraits and works for social justice. In 2020, she was featured in a FOX-29 News report after she was commissioned by Tamika Palmer to do a mosaic portrait of her daughter Breonna Taylor, whose death, in part, launched an international movement for justice for victims of racial violence. That portrait can be seen in the documentary “Bree Wayy: Promise Witness Remembrance”, which features the artwork done to honor Taylor. She has also won numerous awards in juried art shows, was featured as one of the Best Mosaic Artists in New Jersey in Best of NJ, and has had her art displayed in galleries all over the United States. She is currently working on a mosaic mural with the help of volunteers at Thomas Sharp Elementary School in Collingswood, NJ.
You can find her on Instagram @nebula1400 and Facebook - Robin Brownfield Mosaics Online Gallery. You can also visit her website Robin Brownfield Mosaics.
Jacqui Gray has been an editor for over twenty years and currently works as a managing editor. A nature lover, she enjoys photographing and writing about seasonal changes in the beautiful British countryside. You can find her on Instagram, @moonlightandmocha.
Jacqueline (she/her) is a senior undergraduate student at the University of California, Riverside, working toward earning her BA in English and creative writing. She was a 2021 publishing fellow with the Los Angeles Review of Books and served as a co-editor, copyeditor, and producer on the fourth issue of PubLab journal. As a bookworm, writer, and homebody at heart, she spends her spare time looking for new fictional worlds she can lose herself in and working on crafting stories of her own.
Tim Brey (he/him) is a jazz pianist living in Philadelphia. He holds positions as Artist-in-Residence and Adjunct Faculty at Temple University and The University of the Arts, where he teaches jazz piano, music theory, and improvisation. Check out more of his music and his performance schedule at https://www.timbreymusic.com.
Maggie Topel (she/her) is an artist and writer living in Philadelphia. She designs our seasonal Wild Greens logo and social media avatar.
Hayley Boyle (she/her) creates the cover image for each issue of Wild Greens magazine and serves as the Arts Editor. Hayley is a social justice seeker, world traveler, rock climber, dog snuggler, frisbee player, event planner, and story-teller. She loves to paint with watercolors, embroider, and write. She grew up reading sci-fi and fantasy, and to this day she still turns to those genres to help her make sense of the world. She calls Philadelphia home and wouldn't have it any other way. You can find Hayley on Instagram @hayley3390 or @haypaints. She accepts commissions, and you can find examples of her work on her website.
Rebecca Lipperini (she/her) is a writer, teacher, and academic living in Philadelphia, and the founding editor of Wild Greens magazine (hi!). She holds a PhD in English from Rutgers University, where she taught all kinds of classes on literature and poetry and writing, and wrote all kinds of papers on the same. Her essay on the soothing aesthetics of the supermarket was recently published in PubLab.
You can find Rebecca on Instagram @rebeccalipperini (personal) @wildgreensmag (you already know it).