This year I am here to visit with my daughter Emilia and see the work that she is doing here. Emilia, an international development student, came to Nepal to volunteer with a clinic and several orphanages. She lost her heart to a group of tiny girls who recently arrived from western Nepal, a desperately poor region. Their parents are either deceased or unable to take care of them and the 21 girls are in the care of a small orphanage where primarily one woman, the house mother, takes care of their needs. Emilia goes daily to teach  English, play games, sing songs and dispense hugs and kisses. She is working tirelessly on getting the girls into a good school and securing funding for tuition, uniforms, books and a decent place to live. She has created a website for the Mandala Girls Home where you can read more about them. in the last week I tagged along and helped take the girls to the dentist and a picnic (two activities on extreme ends of the joy scale). It was both heartening and heartbreaking to see the girls, for brief moments, emerging from their held back state. As always, Nepal provides a wealth of contrasts, one’s heart continuously pulled from beauty to despair, from inspiration to hopelessness, awe to repulsion – ultimately leaving no choice but to stay open and present, accepting life in its fullness.

Up until our family’s visit my only reference to the Cape were my father in law’s gorgeous, iconic photographs in his classic book Cape Light . Like Joel, the images in his book are elegant and understated and ever so slightly quirky, with a strong capacity to get under your skin. So, it was a small surprise that upon our arrival to the Cape and its shores, I fell in love with the place, its colour and subtleties, breezes and sounds – its magic. Oddly enough, it reminded me in its way of being of the rocky shores of Istria. The undeniable directness of the elements in a myriad of contrasts inspired a series of paintings that are quintessentially Cape with a longing glance toward the Adriatic. This piece was the first in the series and depicts an early summer’s day overlooking the hillsides over Wellfleet and the Cape Cod Bay. The cypress trees? Borrowed from my beloved Istria.

This image is available as an archival print in two sizes

—Shinkichi Takahashi

Sweet potato is an almost perfect food, a nutritional powerhouse replete with vitamins, minerals and proteins with significant anti-oxidant capacities – all in an unassuming package that often surprises with its rich yellow colour upon opening. Recently I noticed that living in Crestone, a small mountain community in Southern Colorado, produces an appreciation for the everyday – from misty mornings swirling on the valley floor to old European forks slumbering in the second drawer down from the stove – to yes, the sweet potato. We eat it almost daily in a myriad recipes. Here is my favourite, albeit unusual one:

Sweet Potatoes with Squid Teriyaki

Do not peel the sweet potatoes; the skin adds colour and texture to the dish. The sweetness of the potatoes gives rich flavour to the squid, which is cooked until very tender. Japanese satsuma-imo potatoes are also recommended for this dish and are available in Japanese markets year round.

1 pound sweet potatoes

8-10 small squid

2 tablespoons vegetable oil

1 1/4 cup dashi

3 tablespoons sake

1 to 2 tablespoons mirin

2 tablespoons soy sauce

Wash potatoes well and halve lengthwise. Then cut each half into four pieces. Pull legs off the squid with our fingers, then wash out the innards and pull out the spine under running cold water, then peel off the surface of the squid (in United States you will most certainly be spared this gruesome ritual as most squid comes pre-washed and cleaned out). Cut the tops off the legs. Cut the body of each squid into 1/2 inch rings.

In a medium saucepan, heat oil and sauté sliced sweet potatoes over medium heat for 3 minutes. Add dashi broth and sake and bring to a boil. Combine mirin and soy sauce. Add squid and let boil again. remove foam from the surface of the liquid and reduce heat. Let simmer for another 15 minutes, covered.

Serve at room temperature or warm.

This painting is now available in a fine art print edition. View prints

La Vie en Rose, oil on canvas, 22" X 30"

(More about Nagarjuna)

“It’s said every painting tells a story. In ‘Whispered Tales’ I try to bring story telling to the fore. While my paintings have always been loosely based on events or moments, this body of work playfully explores multiple scenes in one image. Who is the third glass for at the table in a bar? Why does a woman wait looking out her (is it bedroom?) window? These works, replete with suggestion and possibility, recall the romantic culture of my native Croatia. But I know whatever I ‘whisper’, the ultimate interpretation will always remain in the hands of the viewer.”

Enjoy a glimpse of Tatjana at work below on one of her “tales”, Morning in the Village Square.