Beats the Shit Out of Me
I had a great week followed by a great weekend.
Tuesday and Friday evenings I met up with fellow artists for socializing. Monday and Wednesday evenings I had mask class, then on Saturday morning improv class, followed by a small get together at my house.
Lots of time with artists. It was a fairly typical week for me. As I was living it, there was an added awareness of what that means to me. Talking about art and with artists energizes and excites me. It is where meaning lurks. It may be important to discuss SQL programming code with my peers at the day job. Even though I get enjoyment out of it, I have no feeling it will be important or memorable in the long run. Artistic concepts are another issue.
Delete, delete, delete. Ugh. So I wrote way too much demonstrating how artists are better remembered than conquerors and statesmen. For me it is true in my personal life as well. Every artist, be they actor, director, instructor, poet, painter, and so on, I have known have had a more lasting impact than any bosses, politicians, or such I have known.
As a naval aviator and as programmer I have had friends who were peers. What conversations do I remember? The ones about code snippets or flight operations? Nope, the funny or sad stories about other friends or peers. We tell 'sea stories' with creativity and artistry, and they stick. Even conversations about movies or tv shows tend to stick more than shop talk, as that is the closest most people get to art, which is a very bleak observation indeed.
I can't imagine living without art. Participating in and creating art, enjoying art, discussing how to make art, and it's implications and obligations. I often think there was a very large part of my life where I was marking time, but not living. What is the difference? I take art for granted now. It is in my soul and life. It was hard to get it there, and now I am stuck with it. It drives me. Towards truth, improving my skills, compassion, and passion.
In the United States most people are simply marking time until their bodies give out. I didn't realize it until I learned to live. It is the saddest thing I know. A nation primarily populated by the walking dead. People throw money at botox and liposuction; modern medicine's greatest capability is draining estates in exchange for a few days or months of extra life which is almost always lived in utter misery. I don't think these disturbing trends would happen if people were actually living. One of the most tragic ironies, death is feared the most by people who don't experience life. I'm fat, wrinkling, graying, and happy, thank you very much.
When I hear someone say, "I don't have time to [write/sing/go to a show/etc.]" I don't know if should cry or beat the shit out of them. Maybe if I knocked all the shit out of them, maybe in the brief moment before they refill a snippet of beauty could sneak in and start to grow. I try to beat it out of myself every few months. I am the only person I feel I have the right or duty to beat up on.
Tuesday and Friday evenings I met up with fellow artists for socializing. Monday and Wednesday evenings I had mask class, then on Saturday morning improv class, followed by a small get together at my house.
Lots of time with artists. It was a fairly typical week for me. As I was living it, there was an added awareness of what that means to me. Talking about art and with artists energizes and excites me. It is where meaning lurks. It may be important to discuss SQL programming code with my peers at the day job. Even though I get enjoyment out of it, I have no feeling it will be important or memorable in the long run. Artistic concepts are another issue.
Delete, delete, delete. Ugh. So I wrote way too much demonstrating how artists are better remembered than conquerors and statesmen. For me it is true in my personal life as well. Every artist, be they actor, director, instructor, poet, painter, and so on, I have known have had a more lasting impact than any bosses, politicians, or such I have known.
As a naval aviator and as programmer I have had friends who were peers. What conversations do I remember? The ones about code snippets or flight operations? Nope, the funny or sad stories about other friends or peers. We tell 'sea stories' with creativity and artistry, and they stick. Even conversations about movies or tv shows tend to stick more than shop talk, as that is the closest most people get to art, which is a very bleak observation indeed.
I can't imagine living without art. Participating in and creating art, enjoying art, discussing how to make art, and it's implications and obligations. I often think there was a very large part of my life where I was marking time, but not living. What is the difference? I take art for granted now. It is in my soul and life. It was hard to get it there, and now I am stuck with it. It drives me. Towards truth, improving my skills, compassion, and passion.
In the United States most people are simply marking time until their bodies give out. I didn't realize it until I learned to live. It is the saddest thing I know. A nation primarily populated by the walking dead. People throw money at botox and liposuction; modern medicine's greatest capability is draining estates in exchange for a few days or months of extra life which is almost always lived in utter misery. I don't think these disturbing trends would happen if people were actually living. One of the most tragic ironies, death is feared the most by people who don't experience life. I'm fat, wrinkling, graying, and happy, thank you very much.
When I hear someone say, "I don't have time to [write/sing/go to a show/etc.]" I don't know if should cry or beat the shit out of them. Maybe if I knocked all the shit out of them, maybe in the brief moment before they refill a snippet of beauty could sneak in and start to grow. I try to beat it out of myself every few months. I am the only person I feel I have the right or duty to beat up on.
3 Comments:
This speaks loudly to me, lately. I have a lot of time to ponder what it means to live and to work. It reminds me of an old essay assignment given to me in high school. The subject of the essay was "work". Tough topic, especially in today's world where so much "work" tends to be in areas that either organize abstract concepts or produce abstract "products".
A friend of mine, who is over-worked and stressed out and cannot seem to stop and relax, told me this weekend that he could not possibly take the time to knead bread with his hands and instead must use the mixer. To my mind, it missed the point of baking bread, learning the art of baking, and feeling the zen of the task at hand - the dough in your fingers, your muscles flexing rhythmically. My friend saves about 6 minutes letting the machine do the work. He tells me that he is multitasking and wears that with a badge of pride as if it's the most efficient way of completing all tasks. Perhaps my concept of efficiency is screwed up? Perhaps I've missed the boat because I think work should be something enjoyed, something sought after, something life affirming, producing a concrete product of which one can take pride in producing, something where the means is as important as the end and not something one "takes time" for, but rather something where one loses time in doing it.
Time has more than one component. There is the universal truth of us perceiving a passage of life in a linear fashion. Then there is also the human bastardization of time: time as a currency ("spending time"), time as a commodity ("taking time), time as a unit of measure in the means of production, and so on. All too often, people get caught up in the bastardization of the concept of time and their lives look like a fucking production management flow chart.
It's all about priorities and what one wants from life. You are given only so many years on the planet. Those number of years could be greater or lesser than what you expect, but they are finite. In a giant pie chart representing 80 years, how do you want to divide it up? It's an interesting and complex question. There's bound to be overlap. But how would you choose to spend it?
I suppose it's too much to ask of most people to think through such things. Heck, even with all of our products that help us analyze the abstract concepts, we can't even get people to use the same pie chart to seriously discuss something as simple as a governmental budget.
Apparently, my query is but a pie chart in the sky. Got time for another piece?
You're multi-tasking friend, like many of mine, are reminiscent of a pane of glass on an unremarkable table. It protects the table from spills. It is a nice level surface for plastic glasses and such. It is easier to clean. It lets you view the unremarkable table. It does all those things, and in the process is demeaned.
A goblet, a window looking onto a scenic panorama, or a mirror are single task utilizations. I’m sure you can think of a list like I did for the table top, but it misses the point. Those proud multi-tasking people seem interesting on the surface, but after a few minutes talking to them your eyes glaze and your awareness flees. Somehow they are busy yet uninvolved. I can’t help feeling they are not doing anything for which they have any passion, so they are passionate about distracting themselves.
They remind me of my loner days, reading almost constantly. I related to them in conversations back then. We definitely weren’t doing similar things, but we were assiduously ignoring the void or our lives. They were envious of my escape into novels and I was envious of their escape into frenzied busy-ness.
Lacking true direction is natural, as is searching. It seems we honor neither the goal nor the search in Western society. “Deep is bad, shallow is good.”
To increase time, come more present.
Art, love, meditation, yoga, cappucino at an outdoor cafe in Australia, looking at the ocean -- whatever brings you more present, that do.
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