THOM 11 | Fall / Winter 2018

Written by
Stephanie Burt
Photographed by
Leslie McKellar
I discovered the word in grad school. When it comes to language,
I learned, the spaces between words are often where the meaning
can be found: in the pauses, the breaths, the this-word-afterthat-word.
My naive brain enjoyed pondering how, just by their
proximity, things changed other things, or at least affected those
spaces between. Nevertheless, I soon climbed down from my
precarious perch in the ivory tower and planted myself in the world
of consumer writing. I said goodbye to messy spaces between,
to “studies,” and hello to assignments and deadlines and bylines
and word counts. I found I could wrangle an assignment to write
on X and complete it in such a way that people paid me money.
Yay, me.
But now juxtaposition has come looking for me again and found
me in the work trenches. And before you say “Who cares?” know
that it has come looking for you, too. I write mostly other people’s
stories, through the subject of food and occasionally art and
sometimes music, but never the stock market. So you see, I am
in a bubble. And based on what I’m seeing, many of you are too.
Chances are this isn’t anything you don’t already suspect,
haven’t heard. We have personally curated worlds, and that’s
not necessarily bad; but it does stunt the idea of juxtaposition.
Allow me to use, well, me, to illustrate: I am interested in food;
I am interested in food people; I am interested in cooking and
restaurants, and how my food is grown and whether I want to eat
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