Alas, I'm a food photographer. What can I do? I can't walk past a perfectly puffed popover without taking a shot. I feel like every bread basket in the world is modeling for me. Cupcakes just look so good through Instagram's Amaro filter. Temptation is everywhere.
Allow me to explain what Finland seems to be to me. In one word: design. Think ice, sleek and shiny like steel. Snowflakes, each one perfectly unique in its crystalline lattice. And darkness, the absorption of all light and the undying fashion statement of "artists" around the globe.
My bordering-on-obsessive hatred of "foodie" is really about the culture it's perpetuating. That said, the word itself is infantile, idiotic, and meaningless, and makes me want to poke my eyes out with a larding needle. Can't people just say they love food?
"No one cares what you had for lunch" was one of the earliest and stickiest condemnations of social media. Years later and countless photos of food flipped through, social media users by the millions disprove this every day.
The Internet is not the bad guy here. Rather, it's replacing knowledge, instinct and personal creativity with the Internet that can, but not necessarily must, lead to those feelings of burn-out and defeat.
If Andre has taught me one thing, it's that you don't judge a career by a win or a loss, or even a match. Because a career is made up of dozens of matches, each one a life in miniature, and each one worth living to the fullest.