The greatest inspiration is often born of desperation.
- Comer Cotrell
When you dedicate more time thinking about what you wish you could be doing, as opposed to what you are doing, you’re probably in over your head. When your husband recognizes that look, that sigh, that scrunching of the mouth, and immediately says “You just need to DO something about it”, without even confirming your mood, you need to snap out of it. When the only thing that gets you through the day is the fantasy of attaining what you haven’t yet attained, you have to stop – and then go. Stop long enough to take into account all of the angles, all of the pieces, and all of the parts – and then go form them into something whole.
Writing about being unhappy (or more precisely, unfulfilled) is a bit like telling a joke without a punch line. You can certainly go on and on, but without a goal in sight, without the final touch to bring it together, you’re rambling. You make no sense, and no one really wants to hear it.
It’s become automatic to me lately – the instantaneous reaction I have to a situation I am not pleased with, the feeling of defeat when I stumble across another person who is doing what I want to be doing, only better, more frequently, and for compensation; the irrational fear and terrifying knowledge that it’s all slipping past me while I cling to something that doesn’t even fit my poorly self-defined mold. All of these emotions are filling me almost without my knowledge, and then occasionally tumbling out of me in a mad rush, and it’s only when I begin to crack do I realize that they’ve been there all along.
I’m completely infatuated with food. Every time I see a menu, or visit a grocery store, or read an article about a new cooking technique or the trendy new restaurant coming to my neighborhood, my mind goes into overdrive. I ask myself how it came together, what was the driving force behind it, what’s within it – or what is it within – and most importantly, how I feel about it. Primarily, my reactions to anything in the culinary world are instantaneous in terms of my initial level of interest – I think the same could be said of most. However, overcoming the driving force of my indifference has taught me the importance of looking a bit deeper at what you find. Whereas I’ve been prone to turn a page, or drive on by, or quickly scan and move on, I’ve now discovered in myself the ability to stop and soak in what’s surrounding me.
I'm ashamed that I have recently let this documentary of Merrill's first year go by without photos and stories. With each day that passes, I realize I'm ye...