I’ve taken to decorating my salads, experimenting and fussing until the spacial balance is just so and I feel righted. Not that this is an exercise in geometric precision; it is, rather, a valve through which I release money anxiety. I’ve carved a passage from email and phones calls, and from my cutting and chopping emerges a feast of visual comfort, a blanket that wraps me in local produce and sound nutrition. I’m granted the space I need, a time warp that proves to my haggled self what a beautiful world looks like. Gorgeous and smooth, especially when I take the time to chew.