Disturb the Sound of Silence

Food is inextricably linked to culture, the past, and the future. For me, it is enjoyable to savour a gourmet meal or a glass of wine—but equally, if not more so, to appreciate the complexity of the language, geography, religion, and even anthropology behind it.

Maybe it’s because I have a scattered mind and a pair of wandering eyes, always wanting to look beyond. Through the simple act of eating or drinking, our bond to something is deeply welded. That something is part of the game of life.

To link a pair of curious eyes to hands that create is a process of self-realization—born from interaction with one’s surroundings. A daunting journey of questions submerging, and correspondingly finding someone who holds the answer. For example, of all the wines I’ve tasted with all the special people in my life, the experience is more than just a visceral expression of terroir. To be inspired to create, one must remember how those special afternoons and evenings were spent (with fondness).

That said, to enhance our life experiences sometimes means having the willingness to look beyond what we consider normal, and attempting a larger understanding of the aesthetics behind things—be it food, wine, or anything else.

Just like being moved by the wildness in Nietzsche’s work—and not being taken aback in disbelief—it is a deliberate path one must take. Things or people with depth often represent a kind of rite of passage. To appreciate them requires pursuit. Assembling all your experiences, and then being caught in a moment of awe—oftentimes, no words suffice.

I regard this as one of the greatest gifts in life. After so many seemingly futile hours spent seeking—over and over again, with a willing suspension of disbelief—I finally taste the sweetness and see beauty beyond complexity.

To finally see space between paradox, to start using both/and more than either/or—that is the freedom I longed for.