The ink and the toast
The germination of this blog idea actually began years ago, in a tumultuous land called the early 2000’s. I was watching a show called Doraemon, a Japanese children’s cartoon about an average boy and his mechanic cat. The trope of the show was that the cat had a pocket from which he could whip out many oddities and fantastic technology (not unlike Hermione’s magic clutch and much like the strange gadgets the Japanese still come up with nowadays). Inevitably, the gizmos in the hands of a ragtag team of adolescents stir up trouble (oftentimes of world-shattering implications), and they have to figure out a way to save the universe once again.
One such fantastic gizmo was that of a slice of bread. It was simple to use. Press the bread onto any form of text and then it. Once digested, you absorb every bit of information that was copied onto the tiny carb pancake.
Now, our protagonist had a history test, and simply put, he met with the bittersweet consequences of cramming. Something about this, the bread, the words, the knowledge, and the stupid simplicity of it all, caught me like fishing line. I wanted it so bad, a piece of language that I can eat.
So it never really left me. I chewed on that idea for years. As a kid, I liked the novelty. As a student, I wished for a magical bread that would do the heavy lifting for me. As a writer, I wanted to experience this promise of connection to words. A physical and organ deep connection.
Information is consumable.
Stories are consumable.
We read and learn by eating them. Our hunger for them is present in the generations of history passed down by mouth. It is present in the way we hunger for those really gnarly stories that had once belonged to a friend but now belongs to ourselves. Stories are gifted and we love them because they become ours.
In the course of human history, stories and writings were made to be absorbed, digested, and enjoyed. Nowadays, we want to consume as much information as possible in the least amount of time. Like snogging down our sandwiches within a 15 minute lunch break, we fail to take the time to reflect on and savor the taste of what we had just learned.
So, I wanted to present this thought in a new light. On ink and toast, I hope to serve up a a feast of words. What lay before us is an unimaginable stretch of imagination and heart. Dear friend, take your time, and welcome to the world where language is as necessary to life as is food. Happy reading and Bon appetit!
Salutations dear reader,
My name is Jessica, and I am a Biology student studying to enter the medical field. There are many things I am uncertain about, but one thing always remain untouchably certain. I love writing.
I love people who write. I love people who read. And I fall in love with people who love such things.
It is a simple truth, but the simplicity makes it precious.
I write, therefore I am.
Here are a few of my favorite things (in no particular order or degree of affection):
colors: Dark forest green, pale green, black, and lilac
music: The Beatles, The Animals, and Queen. Classic rock.
Texts: The hitchhiker’s guide, Good Omens, Ender’s Game, Harry Potter, Sherlock Holmes
films: 100 days of Summer, Sherlock, Fight Club, Practical Magic, Black Mirror, Penelope, Rick and Morty
other: drag queens