The Blogging Hour

Well, I was up at 6 am again this morning, unable to sleep. Could be the sudafed I'm having to take to fend of an approaching sinus infection, or it could be the long, long to-do list. It's not even that I mind all the things I need to get done to get this art thing rolling. Really, its all the other things I need to do that take time away from the art thing. So, all the websites, shops, query letters, not to mention the doing of any actual art, sits on a shelf somewhere in my brain and wakes me up at 6 am.

So, to combat my own OCD tendencies, as well as the plain reality of the situation, I have been diligently reminding myself to slow down and enjoy the view. To really pay attention to the process as much as the outcome. I actually do like creating my website, and learning about all the amazing things I can do in photoshop with my images. Its quite fun, really. So instead of rushing through, I'm focusing on the fun of it all. But, I'll tell ya, its a constant battle with my own mind not to jump right back to the getting things done mode.

Surprisingly enough, stuff still gets done - even if it is at a slower pace than I think I want. In the last two days I've scheduled with a photographer to take pics of the wall hangings that are impossible to scan, printed business cards and reduced images for some necklaces, made the necklaces (and decided I don't like them) and come up with a re-design. I've also had some ideas for a new series of collages (and this is the part that kills me, I'm dying to work on the new series, but won't be able to get back in the studio until next week).

So stuff is being accomplished. I will post pictures of it all when I have them. In the mean time, one step at a time.

Changing Course

As you may have noticed, since I figured out how to have people subscribe to my blog, its been a bit, how shall we say, dead. The truth is, after I knew everyone would be getting my musings sent directly to their in box, I came down with a tinsy bit of stage fright. Imagine that. Me, stage fright. Hmmm, who wudda thunk. Anyway, suffice to say, every time I thought to blog, I started self sensoring, and that was never my intention, so I just didn't do it at all.

Not being one to let sleeping blogs lie, I have decided to change the focus of this blog slightly. Instead of my infinitely insightful and endlessly entertaining reflections on life, this blog will contain my journey as I begin to learn about and enter the art and craft world. I'll post what I learn, pictures of things I'm working on, "happenings", etc. Never fear, there will still be a share of ruminations (anyone who knows me, knows I can't resist). Alas, they won't be the main focus.

So, I hope you all still enjoy what I have to say, following along with my endeavor, and continue to offer comments - I really do love to hear what you think too. Feel free to reply directly to your email link, or log onto the blog directly and add a comment from there (the little button at the end of each blog entry). If you comment this way, everyone can see it and we could get a discussion going.

Let the journey officially begin. Here we gooooooooo.

Doing and not doing

Sitting here today - or rather lying here. My back went out yesterday, which it does about once or twice a year. Luckily, it seems to get back to normal with a day or two of rest. But, as I lay in bed, board out of my skull, not inclined to read or watch tv or any other such leisure activity, I got to thinking. My reluctance to the above mentioned forms of distraction isn't so much a reluctance to said activities, as it is a need to be doing something productive. Of which, the above mentioned seem to be not. So, the question of the day is, why the drive to be productive?

Some folks, I think, feel lazy if they are not accomplishing something, but this is not my particular problem. For me, the drive to be productive has to do with the overwhelming number of goals I am trying to achieve at any given time. There always seems to be a list of tasks to be accomplished in order to move forward in the achievement of my goals, and the longer it takes to check off those items, the longer I have to wait for my goal. The problem is that there is always a list, always a goal, and never any room for just enjoying the present moment. But, then again, what the heck does that mean anyway - enjoying the present moment?

Apparently, enjoying the moment is something we are suppose to strive for - a spiritual blue ribbon as it were. I guess it means something like not spending all your time and energy in the future or in the past, because now is the only thing we can know for sure. Okay fine. I can see how that would be good, insofar as it would get rid of this nagging feeling that I need to do something, but just how am I suppose to get rid of that feeling anyway? I think my brain is stuck in a loop. It knows the patterns of accomplishment so well (doesn't matter the specifics, just that it is accomplishing something), that it has a hard time shifting into any other pattern - including just being.

So, if accomplishment is just a pattern, then so is just being. And, the way to get there is practice, practice, practice. Start laying those tracks now, and over time just living in the moment will be the deepest rut and the one I fall into by default. I need to cultivate activities that are specifically without end. My goal (ha, there I go again) is to play more video games. Wish me luck.

Beauty

There are so many definitions of beauty - in the abstract anyway. We can define beauty as an aesthetically pleasing object or as an internal characteristic. Whatever it is, it seems to generally be a desirable thing to possess. But beyond being merely desirable, does it actually define the value of the objects that possesses it?

If something is not beautiful, does that make it less valuable? Certainly there are things in life that are merely practical, but that would not most commonly be called beautiful. A toilet for instance. Surely a toilet has value, even though it is not in most cases the bell of the household appliance ball, as it were. Would a toilet that was beautiful be more valuable than one that was rusted and dirty, but still worked. It wouldn't necessarily be more useful, but would it be more valuable intrinsicly? It would presumably be more desirable, all other things being equal. Obviously you can't judge usefulness on the degree of beauty. Beauty must be a distinct quality all its own, which itself is valuable.

Is the same true of people? Is a person with less beauty (internal or external) more valuable than one without? It seems so wrong to say so, but I wonder how many of us feel that way in the depths of our own self-critical minds.

Then there are those things that most would consider downright ugly, until someone shows you a different perspective. Rust, for example, or cracked concrete have been known to be the subject of some very beautiful photography, but in real life these are things we seek to repair or replace because they are neither beautiful nor practical.

Perhaps the purpose of art is to show the beauty in something, and the job of the artist to find it. Even for art that seeks to make a statement about the ugliness of life, somehow we want the form at least to be beautiful. Even as it is strong and powerful and moving - the picture or the photo or the song or whatever, should itself be beautiful even if the subject is not. Maybe art does not just to find the beauty, but brings a beauty of its own to impart. By doing so, is it actually adding value to the object itself? Art not just as a representation or interpretation of an object, but something which gives back to the object by making it more beautiful.

Rejection

Ok, so what is it about rejection that keeps us from really showing who we are to the world? Why should it be so scary to have someone else not want what you have to give? Why does it matter so much what someone else thinks? Is the possibility of not being accepted so threatening that it can keep us from being who we are, or even make us change to fit what we imagine the world wants?

It all makes sense in my head. I mean, I know all that stuff about being true to yourself. I know it in relationships and in art. But still, it always feels so vulnerable to offer the real stuff up to others for acceptance or rejection. Maybe that's why we are tempted to conform. Maybe if we offer up a false self, then if no one wants it, we won't really be that hurt. Maybe if I change everything to what I think they want, they won't reject me. But, that's not real acceptance then, is it? Eventually, you have to put the authentic piece on the auction block and see if there are any bidders.

And if there aren't, then what? What does that say about you? Or does it say anything about you at all? Maybe it says more about those doing the accepting or rejecting. Not in a bad way, but just in a fitting together sort of way. Maybe its just a matter of finding those people who are in your family. If its not your family, what you offer won't make sense to them - and of course vice versa.

I guess maybe we are all scared that we don't have a family, and that its better to make ourselves fit into one, than to find ourselves alone. That's it. The fear of being alone. Worse than the demon of nothingness, the demon of isolation. Nothingness. Nirvana. That's wonderful and desirable. But, isolation, that's just sad. It pulls at your heart. Being alone, that's a tragedy. I don't mean being alone for a night or a few days. I mean being alone as in wanting human connection, but not having any. Connection is what defines our humanness, our soul even. Without it we are not quite complete. This is why we strive for acceptance and why rejection is so terrifying. It threatens our soul really. It looms the possibility of a kind of death.

Our innate sense of survival drives us to avoid rejection at all costs. Either by not offering up the real thing, or not offering up anything at all. But, then in our efforts to protect ourselves, we accomplish the very thing we hoped to avoid - isolation. So, we go through life in a calculated attempt to offer just enough, but not too much. Well, I'm done. This is just who I am. Take it or leave it.