At this time last year, it reached the maximum social media. You know the feeling: obliterating the spiral holidays, the political loupsy, and the indispensable discourse “about”White Lotus(Wonderful offer. Not worth the psychological cost) Tiktoks About Bluesky Publications that feature x Missives screen. Everything was everything. Not anything.
However, I felt eliminating the disposal of digital toxins. I felt as if to lose a kind of society – or at least, its issuance that was logical to me. For years, social media was the way I participated and discovered food: new restaurants, stupid foods, and roasting the light press statement during the peak of the “new” southern kitchen wave. (I lived in Kentucky at the time and one of the companies was particularly opportunistic in transferring their message that the “craftsmen” had had Moment.) I found chefs and the book of cooking books, Bondage – And how I was associated with people, like me, in fact, he wanted to see what someone had to have lunch.
So before I registered forever, I put a post: “Hey, do you like the snail post?”
I grew up in the nineties, I always had a little leaving the charm of the snail – suspense in finding a pleasant message between the usual stack of bills, catalogs and scrap. You can immediately convert this individual profile your mood while walking across the door, putting your keys on the table and feeling, for a moment, like the universe that was giving you a small and fun surprise.
As an adult, though, it was difficult to get suspense. The notes written handwritten and greeting cards – were replaced by random and EZ Pay reminders that only reinforced the feeling of everything digital and transient. But there is this saying in the snail’s postage community: “To get the mail, you have to send the mail.” Armed with a list of titles and a feeling of optimism, I thought I was ready to dive again. I even sat with an empty piece of paper (or NoteCard) and I was completely arrogant. Where do you start?
One afternoon, in a local café, I tried to capture a weekly essence in the style of Austinian almost to my sister. But when I re -read my words, they felt uninterrupted, and it is the type of thing that I might write if I was trying to persuade someone instead of only calling. Then, my outlook on the bowl fell in front of me: the perfect bowl of soup. It was chicken and rice – creamy, warm, full of carrots and onions and served with a little large piece of Fermented dough. My sister’s meal, and I am completely adore us. “I turn to soup mode” is a phrase we used in restaurants more times than I can rely on.
Suddenly, I had a way. Hold evidence of discrimination from the bottom of my bag and began to draw a little soup of soup, and to colored the carrots with bright oranges. I ruined a note: “I wish you were eating this with me.” I felt simple, real and more than any flowing prose I can.
Such a piece of snail has been born – since then has not been a full practice around it.
We send now and a friend of the food writer, back and forth – nothing is very dangerous, just the type of thing you send if you can send a file sandwich Or a Sauce Via usps. But instead, it’s the card, with all the disadvantages of handwritten notes and the softening of excitement.
Last fall, I bought a used film camera, and now I dismantle real photographs of real restaurants in my messages – the type of personal touch that you feel for the Instagram performance publications: “Hey, I ate in this place, and made me think of you.”
Recently, it has become a fan of restaurants that produce its own postcards, such as Lunch of a pigeon In Chicago, which is characterized by charming illustrations of the flowers used in their dills and dishes such as fried chicken with pearls and peas. The last time I visited, I sat next to the window, with the loud blue line, and one of those post cards slipped into an envelope directed to one of my close friends in California. “The postcard was very beautiful in writing on it,” I was scribbled on a separate empty card, “but I am sitting here I drink Agua Fresca (mint of cucumber) and watch the trains pass. I miss you.”
Rebecca Borik, director of the specialized commercial strategy for the fixed store sheet, met last week in a loud cafe from Katsi Corner from Dove (she is also a postcard fans). She told me that the company regularly hosts the challenges related to writing messages-such as “31 days of charming envelopes in October”, a series of requests for decorating envelope follow-up-and witnessed participation about three times during the past three years.
She said, “I think writing messages is forcing me to be more thinking about my words.” “You may say things that you will not do if you only shoot a text. After that, on the other side, it is not only this process for you personally, but it is a meaningful way to communicate with people. I think we see appetite, a passion for these types of experiences.”
Berrik noticed how she was intimidating that she could feel away from the immediate social media after you spent years sharing your life in the actual time. “What do I write even?” It is a question I heard from both friends and potential paper source agents who thought about trying the snail. However, she said, you should not be an official effort. It can be simple like sending a movie ticket or museum gallery ticket, along with a quick note about the reason you are thinking about someone. It comes to finding something – those simple personal details that you want to share. For me, it was the case to be food.
“When you think about gatherings and sharing food, there are many reasons for sending a note after that,” Burke said. “I love the idea of sending a personal thing after the gathering, whether at home or in a restaurant. It may be simple, like a ship, the existing scrap or even innovative logo graphics on a handkerchief. It is a touch method to share a small part of the experiment, such as a small time capsule treasure.”
To the Burick point, beyond the postcards, there are a lot of treasures of food that you can put in an envelope: photos, postcards, Ramen spice packages, a mixture of salt. A friend runs a Taco truck once, send me a hot sauce pack, wrapped with love for safety. My mother, for life CoffeeShe just told me that she was entering tea. Tea bags fit the envelope.
What I miss on social media is not the likes or access. They are small flashes of confession – “I saw this and thought of you.” It turned out, I didn’t need an application for that. Only some stamps, pen and a bowl of soup.
The algorithm did not ask what kind of soup I was eating.
But my sister always does.
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