Giant, Jesus

I've never been much of an Easter fan. Quite honestly I don't understand it. Plenty of you know that I've most certainly cannonballed into religion a few times throughout my life. I even, oddly, became a hardcore Christian fundamentalist at one point, but I still can't wrap my mind around the dying-for-our sins thing. When I think of the tales of Jesus, I think fondly. Truly. I think Jesus was awesome. But when I went to church regularly, as a Catholic child and again when I rebirthed myself as a teen, I would look around at patrons who nodded and amen'd wondering how they grasped this concept so easily or willingly. The seven heavens and hells of Buddhism make more sense. (Not really) The natural deities of santeria make more sense. Dying for my what now? What sin? The original one? Am I still part of that? Are we naturally all clusterfucky inside that Jesus died for generations of future stuff? Or does he die on the daily. I know the idea is that we are connected to humanness, this apparent original sin, and this sacrifice will deter a trip to hell if we accept Jesus as this Taker of Sins, but still I can't help but think that a major part of this story is grossly misinterpreted. Like so many other spiritual concepts. I go through this yearly. I can work out a lot of stuff with some serious concentration, but this? Not so much yet.

The Easter Bunny thing kind of annoys me too. It just doesn't excite me to get a basket together for the kids. Like Halloween, obviously, I love. And Christmas I love, and I make a big deal over birthdays. "We gotta pick and choose," Husband said over the weekend. "So, we don't like this holiday so much." Which is why I'm extra thankful that our tradition for the last two years is that both Maya and Mina spend Easter with BD and Sanne. Thanks BD & Sanne!

I did bake for Easter though. I don't need much of an excuse for that. I stumbled across this brilliant German blog called Delicious Days. She has this recipe for a cookie apparently called Brombeerbusser which, is there a greater name for a simple cookie? I just mumble brombeerbusser often now and god knows if I'm saying it right. The name and the cookie are kinda all jumbled together with this year's contemplation of the dying for sins confusion. Good thing these taste so good. I was gonna insert a lame joke about them being sinful, but I'll spare you. Just look at the picture, will you. Here's my vegan version of Brombeerbusser:
I made these, too, for an order. Vegan chocolate with chocolate ganache and fondant flowers.
I'm not yet comfortable labeling the goods without the word "vegan". Obviously it's all vegan, but I don't want anyone to ever wonder . . . Just another thing I'm grappling with here.

Saturday night I went and saw one of my favorite movies as a kid on the big screen; George Steven's 1956 film Giant with James Dean, Rock Hudson and Elizabeth Taylor. I was worried it would be dated, but it was pretty fantastic. Three hours of epicness. I watched a lot of James Dean as a kid and in this film he seemed so awkwardly great and tragic, more so than usual if that's possible. Dean died before the release of Giant. As a kid, I didn't realize how bravely, for its time, the movie tackled racism. And with a much lighter touch addressed sexism. I read some post that said a lot of the hanging of the flags in the film was done inaccurately -- a flag draped wrongly on a coffin and a line-up flags positioned out of order -- and some suggest this was done purposely. Anyway, I've been thinking about the movie since. Not to mention about how absolutely stunning the actors and wardrobe were. W.O.W.

If Easter eludes me, Spring captivates. It's in full force here in Cali. The breeze and blooms and green; this I can worship without a glitch or question.