I cannot promise that anything I have to say tonight will be unspeakably profound or something no one else has heard before. However, I feel compelled to share my heartbreak and my thoughts with you all this evening.
I am absolutely and entirely devastated by the death of Anthony Bourdain. I can paraphrase a man I follow on Instagram (@fictionphantom): Today the noodles are a bit more limp, the broth a little less spicy, and the beer is not as cold. I never expected to wake up on a Friday morning to the news that my idol had committed suicide. I'm not sure how to process this. Anthony Bourdain was the most snarky, curious, and genuine person I had ever seen enter the public sphere. The pressure of celebrity never seemed to lead him astray from his true thoughts and feelings. I first fell in love with this man after watching a few episodes of No Reservations as a young teenager. Immediately I was attached to his tenacity of life and every adventures he sought. I consumed Kitchen Confidential in mere hours after purchasing it. I obsessed over the Persol sunglasses he always seemed to sport. I felt free when I swore like a sailor in my writing: something I knew he would appreciate. I fell in love with writing about food and the meaning of community through his works. Bourdain never seemed to fear being himself. He was candid about his encounters with addiction and depression. As someone who suffers from mental illness, I found comfort in his words, and how he seemed to overcome even the worst of circumstances. He lived all 61 years of his life to its fullest, yet I hoped he would live so many more. He wasn't just a chef or a TV personality. Bourdain was a hero. He was a fierce ally to women and victim-survivors of sexual assault. As he began his relationship with Asia Argento, he became stronger. He never made Argento's narrative about himself. He was outspoken, but only to make a safe platform to women who have faced abuse. He was forthright about the parts he had played in the production of toxic masculinity. I have been in my darkest hours before, where suicide seemed to be the only option. After facing rape myself, I never thought I would dig myself out of the quicksand of PTSD and clinical depression. I have loathed every single post on social media pleading that those who suffer from mental illness to call a hotline or to see suicide as a permanent solution to a temporary problem. Life and death are never as simple as they seem. I will spend my weekend wallowing and grieving for my hero, Anthony Bourdain. I will drink copious amounts of beer, I will cry, and I will create dishes from his cookbooks, and I will re-watch episodes of No Reservations, The Layover, and Parks Unknown. I have never felt such sorrow for someone I have never known. He was an incredible writer, explorer, and human. I am sending all of my love to Asia Argento, his best friend Eric Ripert, his young daughter, and the rest of his family & friends. We lost one of the greats today. My heart feels so hollow.
0 Comments
|
MeJust a broke millennial ruining the baking industry along with everything else. Archives
August 2019
Categories |