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From the Berlin Night series by Jens Komossa, one of my major inspirations in night photography
St.O: Maman, I do this blog thing – do you know what a blog is?
Cécile: yeah, it’s something for school, right?
St.O: not really, anyway, do you mind if I ask you a few questions?
Cécile: About what?
St.O: food
Cécile: of course not
St.O: What is the most important thing about food for you? What does into making something a good meal?
Cécile: The most important thing is the quality of products that you cook – very important!
The ingredients – yes.
You can’t good a meal with garbage, you know.
St.O: Do organic ingredients matter to you?
Cécile: Often organic things have a good taste, but good taste in general is more important than organic produce, yes.
St.O: Ok, so Nicolas Sarkozy (French President) makes a law that say you have to only eat one thing from new on and forever, what do you pick?
Cécile: (long pause) RICE! Basmati rice!
Rice has a taste all to itself – if only one thing, it’s rice you don’t have to add anything – rice is delicious alone, and it’s so simple. If it’s going to be the same thing all the time, it’ll get old no matter what, so it might as well be cheap and easy to cook, so I pick rice.
St.O: good answer
So, what are you most excited to give to Orson when he is ready to eat things other than breastmilk?
Cécile: hmmm. A good high quality beef tri-tip!
St.O: you know that’s not likely to happen right, as both of his parents are moderately vegan?
Cécile: (ignores me) -- cooked to perfection, like the steak houses you have in the united states do.
St.O: by you, or by someone else?
Cécile: By me. It’s easy to cook, but there again, it’s the quality that maters. Sadly, there’s no steakhouses like you have here in California in Paris, but I think I can make do.
St.O: that’s what you think. Can you talk a bit about the different culinary traditions with which you’re familiar?
Cécile: You mean West Indian, French, and American?
We can’t really talk about American cuisine – it’s generalized – I discovered it through Californian cuisine, and just trips here to see you and Corine. But California cuisine isn’t really American cuisine, is it? Especially with both of you being vegetarian, I don’t know if I can talk about American cuisine with any authority.
I can see West Indian cuisine in what you and Corine eat though. West Indian cuisine is influenced by latin-american cuisine, and latin-american cuisine also influences Californian cuisine. Didn’t’ this used to be Mexico anyway?
Anyway, French cuisine is really really refined – now I can talk about French cuisine. In France every region has it’s own specialty, its own special dishes, and smells. I can tell you a lot more about French cuisine than American cuisine, because there’s a lot more to tell.
St.O: This is hard because I translate what you’re saying, and type at the same time
Cécile: I understand
St.O: Have you noticed that things have changed since you were a kid, for example?
Cécile: I don’t’ think I’ve lived long enough to see changes that are that big, but yeah, there has been an evolution – sure! You can go into the supermarket now and buy already done plates – things that are ready to eat! We can make an entire meal without cooking at home!
St.O: Do you think cooking is on its way out?
Cécile: No, No. I don’t think so
St.O: When you go back to France, what will you appreciate having the most?
Cécile: Not meat – Not really fish -- What else
Aha! Croissant and coffee!
St.O: You want to say something about American coffee?
Cécile: You already know how I feel – it’s sock juice – it’s disgusting!
Whenever I talk about the US, I tell people never to order coffee here – they give you watery coffee in this huge glass (holds up a coffee mug) it’s just gross.
3. Recently I was having a conversation with some people about the biblical basis for Christian monks and monasteries. I'm still not sure it exists.
I typed the word “recluse” into google image search and the first full page was filled with brown recluse spider pics and brown recluse spider bite pics. No images of 26 year old girls cursed with wanderlust, or representations of avoidance of previously frequented social situations that seem pointless and counter-productive.
There was however, a photograph of 31 year old Li Guoxing, an unfortunate Chinese dude who was attacked by a bear in 2006 and afterward became a recluse due to the disfigurement of his face. The picture (if you really want to see it, google his name) is pretty grisly/grizzly (sorry, I couldn’t help myself), but out of some morbid curiosity I took a closer look and found out that Gouxing later became the second ever recipient of a face transplant. Dangg.
Any time something bizarre like this catches my attention, I assume it as some sort of teaching or sign and try to relate it to my own life somehow. There is the obvious “be thankful for what you have” lesson, which is always valid, but as I was considering this in comparison to my recent afternoon spent alone in a graveyard, from which I took a similar introspective deep breath, I read that in July of 2008, Li Guoxing died. Aw, man.
I’m not really sure how to feel about this. I was trying to find more recent pics of him, to see how he healed up after the surgery. I was rooting for him. Now I feel let down (thanks a lot internet, for not telling me of his fate in the first place) and even sadder at his awful circumstances. If he’d stayed a disfigured recluse he would probably still be alive (though there was no autopsy performed, so his actual cause of death is undetermined), but he probably could have written a gripping “I survived” style auto-biography.
So I guess I’ll knock on wood and present myself with the following question: Would I want to live if I were cut off from all human contact? Granted, that’s a very extreme example of “recluse”, but for argument’s sake lets say I signed some kind of deal with the devil where I got to keep my face (I don’t even want to take into account how that kind of disfigurement would effect my psyche), but was not allowed any human companionship, ever. No friends, no lovers, no one.
Right now, when I choose to be alone it feels healthy and welcome, but honestly if there were no option I don’t think I could make it. At first I’d read all the books I’ve been putting off reading, I’d write and draw and make crazy sculptures. But after a while, I think I’d lose all my inspiration and become sullen and start to lose my mind (unless maybe there was a clause where I was still allowed go on Facebook.). After a longer while I’d probably die of a broken heart.
So I think the lesson here is thanks-giving after all. I’m thankful I have a curiosity of new places. I’m thankful for all the seemingly non-productive social situations I can choose to attend. I’m thankful I’ve never had a run-in with a bear or had to have plastic surgery, and last but not least, I’m thankful that I’ve never been required to choose between two absurd extremes and report my decision to Tim Curry.
That was a close one