Plate… The vehicle that transports our food. The limit, the measure of the ephemeral pleasure of each meal. A symbol, the foundation of what we put into our bodies, what we eat, and sometimes eats us.
What are we putting on our plates? What are we chewing, and ingesting. And by this I mean more than just food.
Thinking about what I feed on… Thoughts, feelings, insecurities, body image, concepts… I feed and sometimes over-feed my mind with thoughts and ideas and wonder if what I say, do and feel align in a straight line. How important it is what we feed ourselves. The body, the mind, the soul. Our thoughts and feelings as well as what we eat. The idea that we have of ourselves, of others, of the world. Sometimes the idea of who I am fits more my plate than who I actually am.
Everything is either food for the soul or maybe poison…we ingest so much.
The plate is only where I deposit what I am going to eat, but at the same time is more than that. Sometimes it's the limit that tells me what I like and what I don't. What I want to be and what I don't want to give up. Others is the anxiety in each mouthful, the magazine image that I will never be, the wrong ideal of beauty . The fantasy of life, the mystery of the psyche, the hypocrisy of resting with what I do for the environment... Peace of mind should be.
Like we say in Spanish, by the end of the day who will pay for the broken dishes? A way of expressing concern on being responsible for our actions. Maybe it's time to take more awareness of what we consume as individuals to serve better our purpose in this society that is distorted.
I still don’t know what Im putting in my plate sometimes. Do you?