There was a drawer in our house where Mom stored recipes written on little two-by-four manila cards that yellowed more and more over time. Those were her records.
There was also the unrecorded—though very much so embodied—performance of watching her make those recipes and then declaring rest when the work was done.
My father kept decades of vinyl records up in the attic crawl spaces. Music quite literally filled every high and low corner. Today, the sounds reappear like phantoms in the attics of my memory. Beres Hammond, The Wailers and Dawn Penn are all there.
The people I know maintain a special kind of storage. They are knowledge keepers in mind, body and soul. This is a special kind of keeping.
And so I’m thinking a lot about how value is kept then passed down from them to me and so on. I am starting to think about it in terms of not just food, however grateful I am that food has brought me to this current state. I am starting to think about the many ways of being well. If there is anything I am most hopeful for, it is an opportunity to pass on more generative traditions of wellness to others. Wellness for me has looked like creating my own definition of value and that knowledge I now keep, I pass down in the ways that recipes and records have found there way into my work and me.
XX DeVonn Francis