For some reason I am way too wired to write anything intelligable, but I will try anyway just to bug you.
Some friends and I took a road trip to a place called "Naam" in Vancouver last night. It was a small vegan place, full of mostly artsy people (with the occasional tradesman guys there who looked really out of place). I must say, I was impressed. I tried a tea made mostly with nettle, peppermint (the kinds of things in my backyard which often fall prey to lawnmowers).
They had this cheescake there with an organic blueberry sauce, which changed how I think about blueberries. In general, actual food has those earthy qualites which almost turn tasting into experiencing.
...As opposed to simulated blueberry flavours, which try and pretend they taste like anything profound. Why eat fake food when the real thing is so easily accesible?
I think, too often, our cultural mindset tells us to go after something that looks like love, or something that tastes sort of like something that tastes good, rather than go for the real thing. Of course, the real thing just takes a bit more work and imagination, doesen't it?
Experiencing life could be as easy as standing outside on a rainy morning, or as difficult as dropping 2000 bucks to fly to some tropical fantasy. I dunno. This notion has always made me kind of cynical- which I don't like to be.
~
In other news, i feel a little down today. Its gray out, I have homework, and I have not payed bills in 3 weeks. Which is all trivial in the grand scheme of things.
This is what being in college is like, friends. Life is, as Anne Lamott described "Pretty good, some problems".
Later
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2 comments:
Did you know that the Naam is open 24 hours a day and there are always people there? A favourite old haunt of mine. Oh, I miss Vancouver!
Ah, i was definately told of this. I might just be one of those people eventually. I plan to frequent that place and JJ Bean when possible / when I get the F out Abbotsford aka "miles of concrete with no asthetic value to speak of"
PS- A Comment! Aha! It is really sad how few comments I get on this journal. This makes a struggling writer very self-concious.
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