Still Alive.

What defines living? Is it the flow of blood in your veins? The rhythmic pumping of your heart? The rise and fall of your lungs? The mindless inhale, exhale, repeat? What if wanting to live requires you to be hooked up to machines? To have syringe after syringe of blood drawn from you? To have

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Quid Pro Quo.

For all the times you fed me when I was little; coo’ed and aah’ed so I would eat. For all the times you rocked me to sleep, and played my favorite lullaby. For all my favorite foods, never given as a reward – merely given. For always making too much food so I can have

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You know, I love talking about food.  In fact its one of my favorite topics next to cannibalism, the Holocaust, slaughterhouses and mundane things like boys and dresses. I also love food photography, the kind that turns seemingly ordinary food into masterpieces that makes you wish it was socially acceptable to lick your computer screen at public

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