Statement

My stuffed and snooty nose has left me without taste. It is not that I”m French but nothing is without ridicule. Everyday I consciously eat and chew through our landscape, whatever is left or that I spit out is the only thing that seems to affect my lack of taste. Although I don’t always swallow, my body continues to absorb the essence of both the plebeian and the vulgarity of haut monde. The only sense I feel is empathy. In nosing through the smorgasbord of the delectable palate that surrounds us, these are the tender morsels I am left with. I’ve been told to look past my nose but this cliché is all that lingers.