“I was a science fiction writer…” is the echo through the space that the person exists in, if that’s what we are — people? People, I think. “Imagine what you think you might be looking at,” she (or he or they continues). “It feels like a story someone’s telling you to entertain you, and then it turns out to be true. You don’t know how deep the truth of it goes — it seems dangerous to assume — and at the same time, you can’t help but assume. Knowing that you are making assumptions that steer you zig-zag and awry — that’s how you must navigate. Upside-down, inside out, sidewise.”
There are spectacles, long on a nose, and a longer gaze across them. “Writing science fiction,” the voice repeats. “But specifically, food. I seemed to notice, more and more, and in this decidedly science fiction world… I needed to write about food.
“Not food only, and not food in the usual way, but digestion and the nature of food.
“Who is our food, and who are we food for?”
The voice has paused, now.
You’re not sure what to do, but you realize there is something going on. If you wait it out, perhaps it will reveal itself?
“Neonosh is a creative tea nosh with a focus on safe meals, emergent culture, and social music. Neonosh Pittsburgh promotes community food security through co-created communications, resilience support for families, and artfully sustainable food systems.
Neonosh Pittsburgh host Max Morris shares her notes each week via digital publication or Internet radio broadcast, with support from Gut Media, Intuitive Public Radio, and Bridge Family Group.
Neonosh itself is a mezze meal offering many different small plates — ambient audio samples, community commentary, bitesize PDF zines.
Neonosh gatherings (shared meals) are pre-recorded with collaboratively produced multimedia content, sometimes broadcast live. Contact firstname.lastname@example.org to share your thoughts, creations, food, art, or music; taste a little something new; discover what nourishes you.”
“Welcome to WordPress. This is your first post. Edit or delete it, then start writing!” Do you remember this, too?
The first “Hello world!” and then the second, twenty-second, or hundred-and-second repetition for an explorer learning to set up WordPress installations is meaningfully ambient. The ambient meaning exudes: This is a world in which you can build something — say something — change something — become something new.
How long did we ever pause to wonder if this were true?
As we have digested our lives, we’ve found the components we’re digesting to be something frequently different from what we thought we’d be digesting, Sometimes we have eaten one another’s lives and never knew we were doing it. (Sometimes, we did know. What was the difference? How could a person tell?)
In our digests, we want to be kinder. We notice the ingredients that strip our souls out through brittle bones of aching chests and we notice when food, family, and community make us stronger. We feel when there is healing amidst us; we feel when we are being wasted away.
Meeting challenges with courage, creating resilience together, more than ever, we get to choose.