Living For The Art

Despite being kind of fabulous in plenty of ways, my life has looked kind of like this for too long. 

In some ways I've just been too much in transition. A multi-client consultant's mental juggling, red-lining my vespa all over the place in heels and chandelier earrings just to teach myself to believe that the sweet breezes still blow. Living more in reflection and history than creatively and presently.

With the few hours of truly blank-slate time that my first days off following moving into a new house (still covered in piles of unorganized stuff), then going on a sweet little vacation and returning to discover myself on the edge of some possible shifts in job structure, I'm drawing something a little less pragmatic and a little more glorious than normal in this new space.

I've written before about the crucial value of how one uses their attention, but most of us have to address the past before we can really move forward. We need to get out of the red before we can really start to invest and create value. To move forward and create value with grace and poise - from a place of love and strength, not fear and protectionism - takes focus, courage and consistency. Transitory chaos easily overwhelms. 

Lines and Triangles, Guido Brandt.

In my experience, more often than not, the key to traction that allows for real, grounded value-creation is a combination of the help of good friends and especially the transcendence of praise. By this, I mean letting what is truly beautiful and good loom large. No weapon that's fashioned against it can stand. It tends to disarm common bitterness and strife that divides and kill us too often. To notice, give praise to, and feed the glory divides and shrinks the chaos. The chaos must be directly addressed by the minute, but it is much more easily defeated with this means of what is almost mis-direction, or maybe starvation. Centralize and praise what is good and glorious, especially verbally in wide company. You might call it living for the art.

Beyond the piles of shoes, electronics, beauty products, and growing belief in the sweet breeze, I'm painting some beautiful, vibrant shapes using pieces of the very chaos that encroaches. I'm beating my swords into plowshares, and maybe some kickass installation art. The void that surrounds us is immense, and constantly threatens to confuse, steal and destroy. Ironically, victory is only sure with a deep smile and an aesthetic eye. 

Value is created in living for the art.

12% Words

"Finally. There. Those people are leaving." My good friend Kelsey sped up and pulled in to park. "But I was just so frustrated about the pollution statements, you know. He keeps telling me they want to help and he'll come to the meetings but then totally disappears and doesn't follow through. What he's doing is good, but he can't push me to move if he won't sign the pollution stament. I'm not sure what to say. What do I tell him?"

Once inside she smiled easily. Eyes bright but relaxed. Ears & temples lifted in contentment. She chattered pleasantly with Jeff & Susan, whom we'd laid eyes on for the first time in our lives just moments before. A lot of words circulated between them and I followed about 12% of what was said.

Kelsey uses a lot of spoken words in order to organize thoughts. I use a lot of slowly organized thoughts in order to allow me to express anything verbally. She's a verbal processor. I'm a non-verbal processor. 

Image Credit Here

As I studied their demeanor, I discovered all of them looking at me. She'd said my name, and I remembered that I was there. They expected me to do something, not just to stand with them, quietly ruminating. "Hello. It's nice to meet you." I said. They were still looking at me...Words... Should I say more of them? Which ones? Which words should I choose at random to say? Do they want me to say more words? I'll just have to think of which ones... A half second passed in silence, and when I still said nothing more, they picked back up at Jeff's cousin's business which they'd used those many circulating words to discover was very similar to Kelsey's field.

Another moment passed and I became satisfied they wouldn't require any more immediate input from me so I resumed scanning the room. Blue walls but warm light. Five conversation circles sprawling over this room and down into the hallway, then maybe six more outside. Is that a pool or a fountain? Susan stood in front of the drinks. Completely blocking them. Kels would want a beer to start. I might go for G&T. plenty of lime. That's nice that they have limes right there ready to go. Jake had great shoes but probably hadn't ironed his pants in a week. He was talking about how important his job was, but I wasn't sure what specific goal he was after. His eyes, posture & tone gave clues, but it would take time to deduce them. The only words I actually remember him saying are "political sympathies." I caught onto that phrase because he repeated it just shy of entirely too many times for it to still hold any meaning.

This room full of new people- who are they and what are they after? Where did they come from? How did they relate to each other? Are they trying to have fun or to impress each other? I engaged these and similar questions by observing cues & dynamics like blueprints - alone able to translate about 12% of it into words. Kelsey engaged these questions by asking them directly with words - alone able to translate about 12% of it into prominent themes.

Several hours in the sun and beverages later I laid on the couch at her house drinking green tea and patting the dog while staring at the ceiling in thought. Kelsey was telling me about a conversation she'd had yesterday with her mom, the vegetables in her refrigerator, and how annoying it was that the fence fell over, all at the same time. Did I want an omelette, or maybe we could go get something. Also there was water, and beer. Should we watch a movie? 

The pollution statement answer came to me. "He doesn't want to upset his partners. Didn't you tell me last week that they were meeting with the other group? Maybe they don't mind him meeting you, but he can't sign until they want to too." I said.

"What?" She walked out of the kitchen puzzled, holding something like asparagus and a box of texas toast. 

"The guy from work with the pollution statements. You asked me what I thought. I think that's why he's not signing."

Friendships between very different kinds of people, to me, are the most valuable. It is often most useful to learn by contrast. The challenge in contrast, is finding what ground is held in common, and how to translate very different approaches to expand your individual understanding. We should celebrate our differences, not just as a virtue of patience, but knowing that building a bridge through that measly 12% gives access to a categorically different kind of synergetic life that is impossible without the contrast.

Remember- I'm a Person

Usually it happens when you're walking down the sidewalk. It's the thing I love and hate about being out in public. People don't really know who you are. I was doing just that-- walking back to the office from CVS & decided to grab a coffee across the street.

Walking Shadow. Oliver Raffy, from the walls of Dubrovnik, Croatia

My head was up, laughing to myself as I remembered some dumb joke one of my co-workers had told a few minutes earlier. It was warm and beautiful outside. There was a big truck right in front of the coffee shop with four construction workers leaning up against it facing the street in the sun. They were smirking and I felt them looking at me. I looked up to say hi as a courtesy and immediately shrunk back. Not because they weren't smiling, but because of the way they were doing it.

They were looking right at me, but their eyes said they saw something else. I could tell I was an impersonal invaluable thing to them. I tried not to react, just to dignify the situation, make eye contact, say hello and keep walking. Not all of them were necessarily even bad looking, or too old, or too construction worker-y, but they made us into foreigners by their demeanor. I passed by and continued toward the coffee shop's glass window front and saw them all whip around in the reflection as soon as I'd passed, gesturing crudely. I stopped, my arm halfway reaching for the door handle, then turned around to face them. I stood there, all of us staring nervously, and I was trying to think of what to say.

"Remember - I'm a person," was all I could manage.

We all do it to some degree. We treat each other like caricatures--ideas that meld themselves to what we think the world does or should look like. I don't know any of those men, but I hope that I can continue to treat them like human beings. The truth about that interaction, which is commonplace, is that they were attempting to express their manliness, but did just the opposite.

When a man objectifies or disgraces a woman, he innately dishonors himself --and vice versa. It is impossible to separate. It will always be to the glory of all people (but especially true between men & women) to treat each other with dignity. When a woman cuts a man down it is to their mutual shame, even if he doesn't treat her badly. But by the same token, when one treats the other with respect, it is to their mutual honor & glory.

Scootah

I recently purchased a vespa-style scooter.  It's awesome.  Honestly, everyone is jealous.  It saves tons of money, time, and it's really really fun.  There are some drawbacks - it can be kind of a theft magnet, you have to be a much more defensive driver.  Also, if you have the occasional habit of yelling things at people from the safety of your car while driving--as I do-- you should really try to remember that on a scooter the whole block can hear you shout "Seriously buddy, this is not a parking lot!" in your exasperated voice.  But my favorite things are people's reactions (or least favorite, depending on the instance).

They literally stop me at traffic lights.  I'll be on the sidewalk, and they stop driving--blocking traffic-- and come over to ask about this thing.  It's kind of ridiculous.  There have been some funny, some annoying & some startling ones.

A very consistent repeat is: "Whoa! Is that a scooter?" as if they've seen a ghost. Their brow is furrowed, their eyes intense & jaw dropped.

I don't know how to answer that question. Sometimes I'm reduced to "Hey yeah. Yes. It is. Ok, green light. See ya."

They've got stories about scooters.  Stories they'd like to tell me the full version of as I'm mid-way through fishing my lock out of my tire, or holding the elevator open so they can finish, before they've introduced themselves.  They find it about as likable and novel as you might find this guy. They just want to hang out.  As a person who's not real talkative with people I don't know this is a unique new phenomenon to me.  I have somewhere close to five of these kinds of conversations every day & feel bad for cutting them off cause I'm actually going somewhere (hence, the scooter).  Is this normal?  Are people just really that distracted by shiny things?  Should I be validated or confused?

What are your intentions?

People are funny, but usually it's when they don't mean to be. For example, I have a great yoga teacher, she is tiny, very flexible and good at teaching yoga. Also, I like her because she has a thick Russian accent and says "yah" a lot, so that keeps things entertaining.

The other day she came into class and said something like,"so I am going to make you guys work really hard today ok? Jhhussssst khhiiddhhhiiinnhhhgg" in sort of a forced wheeze laugh voice. Except for the wheeze laugh, I would've had no idea that it was supposed to be funny, but apparently that was her attempt at a joke.

However, later while explaining a pose, she said without skipping a beat,"so, for lack of a better term, you are going to put your heel right up in your butt crack, yah?" and I almost fell over laughing, but she wasn't phased. Completely missed it.

There is also another guy I run into at the yoga studio that is worth mentioning in this vein. The first morning I saw him I thought he might have been a hallucination. He is probably 5'8" with a seriously unhealthy amount of muscle mass, longish hair and sort of a confused look on his face to compliment his incredibly tiny stretch knit shorts (this morning they were purple and he had a terrible tanktop burn line). To say the least, he sticks out in a class full of girls with pink mats. You do NOT want to be behind this guy in down dog. The worst part was when I saw him coming out of the building wearing work clothes and realized he had no plans to shower before starting his day.

Now some people, myself included, might initially see this guy as an easy target. However, I tend to wonder if tiny shorts guy has someone looking out for him? Maybe instead of kicking him around, I should realize that he probably just needs a friend. Does he have a mother or a brother to teach him about body odor, personal hygeine, and limiting your personal creatine intake? I wonder what his intentions are? Did he mean to have that hairdo or did he just stop trying? What are his fitness goals? Does he actually like little purple knit shorts, or has he just been deceived into thinking that they are acceptable?

Dear tiny shorts guy, if you are reading this, can I offer you a more substantial workout wardrobe? Some aloe vera? A nice cold shower?