Goals

Is my goal to share my experiences of the world or to memorialize and immortalize them?

Is it enough to enjoy a dish, or do you want to understand the elements of the dish that make it what it is? My interest is not in the technical recreation except insofar as the recreation can enlighten me to a fuller understanding of that which I enjoy. Understanding enhances the enjoyment for me.

In the same way, when I travel, understanding the context of the place and the experience enhances my enjoyment of the “otherness” of the place.

Food is the context through which I can understand my own desires, the world around me and the baseline for the people I come in contact with. In the relative space of an intellectualized life, it is through the mysterious utilitarian pleasure of cuisine that I find my anchor, my grounding, the practice of the principles. To me food is not merely a vehicle for expression and sustenance, it the tangible embodiment of our identities and desires. That is why the why matters to me, understanding may help me better navigate the mental labyrinth of life.

I suppose the sharing and memorializing may be part of the same need. I wonder if, as humans, we are so fundamentally communal that a life which is not born witness to is really a life at all. Again, as I teeter on the edge of a concept too cavernous and overwhelming to fall into, I go back to the table. The pleasure of a meal, for me, is enhanced through the sharing. I can taste the same flavors, feel some sense of sating, but the same meal shared contains a level of satisfaction impossible to achieve in isolation.

The art of dining alone is not one which I am versed in, it feels empty somehow. In the same way my words seem impotent with only my eyes to see them. What do I hope to achieve? Do I hope to change the world with my perspective? No, sadly, my intentions are not that altruistic. I write because I must and I long to share my words to give them life.

I have a curious mind, eyes to see, ears to hear, and mind to understand and translate. I will go and find the little truths, I will collect them and bring them back. I will forage for the beautiful and the exotic and the resulting meal is one that is too spectacular not to be shared. Perhaps it will change the world. Perhaps it will give people hope.

I suppose the question of purpose has no place in art, or maybe even in life. The quest to find or create something real, something beautiful, it is one that is not so much something one chooses to do so much as something they can’t help but do. It is like breathing. I must question, I must explore, I must write. Without these things I am not living.

This may be the one thing that I should not try to find the “why” to. Perhaps this is the one thing that just is.