Working.

Not the best past couple of days, re: Work and Life goals.

Very frustrated. Very Tired.

Very hungry.

In closing: Twitter: It's like a really weird conversation in a very crowded room, and sometimes the person you're talking to forgets who you are.

That is all.

Food as art.

mech_angel and I are watching "No Reservations," and she notes that she can understand, more, Tiny Food as Art. Small portions, intricate presentations, elaborate prepatations, are about the smell, the sight, the sound of it cooking, perhaps, and, of course, the taste. It is a full-sensory experience, and i appreciate and understand that.

But I want more.

If I am to be charged, let's say, $25 for a single plate containing a quarterr-inch thick sliver of Sea Urchin Roe, a chunk of butter-poached lobster the size of a stack of four quarters, and a piece of seared squid about the shape and volume of a plastic lighter, I want more. I don't just want to see it, feel it, taste it, smell, and hear it. I want to know it; i want to see as much of its preparation as possible.

Now, this already exists, after a fashion, in the form of Hibachi Grill, wherein we are exposed to Food As Vaudvillian Spectacle, and Sushi, where we have Food As Perfecting Meditation. But I want to watch my chef slice and prepare a fish, I want to see the kitchen crew dance and weave around each other, work together like a kitchen Neils Bohr and Robert Brown would design. I want to watch the process, as art, as science, as Surgery, as ballet and Jazz.

If I'm going pay $100+, a person, for a meal to Engage Me, I want to see the whole thing.

I think this headache means the universe is listening, violently.