Neil Gaiman, possibly quoting another author, said that there are two kinds of writers: architects and gardeners. Like Gaiman, I’m a gardener: plots come like unlabeled seeds, and it’s always a pleasant surprise when one of them starts sprouting tomatoes or daisies. In short, I never know what story I’m telling until the end. (Like many things, the act of creating is also an act of faith.)
I thought the ability to jump into books would be super cool, until I realized that most people have the tendency to reduce the humanity of other people whose stories becomes published narratives. Damien is a representative of what I see in others and in myself: because someone appears as a photo in an internet article somewhere far away, it’s easy to abstract away their humanity, and it’s awfully easy to hurt someone whose suffering isn’t real. Maybe it’s because the internet is a deluge of stories these days — we’re inoculated against caring. But experiences that connect people can reverse this mindset. At the end, it’s not “just” a meal; it’s much more than that.
Is the world of Pathar “real”? I’d rather not jump into debates about reality (are virtual worlds real? could artificial intelligence be a person?), but consider: I chose one ink this month, it is significant that these two worlds are rendered in the same style with equal detail and care. My goal as the artist was to make these worlds come alive to the reader. And my hope, I guess, is that the different worlds that you encounter in your own life might become real to you, too, through those kinds of experiences that connect other people to you, and you to other people. (Well, the artist’s lofty aspirations, as a random artist on the internet…)
In short, Anthony Bourdain said it better than me: “You learn a lot about someone when you share a meal together.”
Thanks for reading! <3