“The alternative is unconsciousness, the default setting, the rat race, the constant gnawing sense of having had, and lost, some infinite thing.”
Through the years, the writings of David Foster Wallace have made me a more thoughtful reader and writer. At many junctures, I’ve returned to his essay “This is Water,” delivered in 2005 as a commencement address to the graduates of Kenyon College. I first wrote about it here and we even found a way to weave it into our wedding ceremony, though it is not (at least on its surface) a speech about marriage or love.
Some Infinite Thing is my commitment to remember the water all around me, to write and figure it out, to not take this for granted. It’s an endeavour to write through the mundane and the noteworthy of life with equal fervour, in order to keep what is extraordinary. (Sometimes this will mean contemplating the philosophical about my days, and other times it will mean more practical posts about topics like marriage and travel and eating well.)
Maria Pontikis is the half-Greek-half-everything else author of Some Infinite Thing. She lives in Toronto, Canada in a 100-year-old house with her handsome Texan husband, their well loved pots and pans, a wobbling tower of library books, a duo of scuffed-up suitcases and too many bottles of wine.
By day, Maria directs communications activities for a large public sector organization, a job she loves dearly. In early 2014, she began the work of chipping away at her Professional Sommelier designation, and is half-way toward the coveted pin. She loves sharing in wine with others and wants to dispel the myth that it must be expensive or complicated or one correct way to be enjoyed.
Maria has a fondness for tabletops, fine paper goods, domesticity, paper books, the quiet, squirrels, Champagne, all things sartorial, time spent in her kitchen, exploring and eating her way through far-off places as often as possible, and getting the details right.
You can follow her days on Instagram.