My kid is sick. Ear infection. With the first one we left it too late and her eardrum popped. Let’s not do that again.
The other cut her leg. Germolene is a disinfectant cream. To me it always sounds like the title for an Allman Brothers song “oh Germoleeeeeene” …But I digress.
I am learning that with the girls there is always something to fix. Sort of like my old Audi. It’s part of being at school and growing up.
They bounce back way better than the Audi though. Like little trampolines.
Art as a consumable product. When we experience a piece of art, it is tempting to think that there could only ever be one version in the world. The song you’re listening to could surely only have sounded like this, could only ever have this tempo, could only be sung in this key. The picture you are looking at must have arrived fully formed – divine intervention flowed through the painter’s brush to the canvas in a single instant of inspiration. There was no practice involved and no research.
Art as a process. Of course the opposite is most often true – artists above all are experts at curiosity and playing with ideas. The curiosity and the playing results in countless versions of an idea until one day a version feels right (or is chosen by a company executive) to represent the artist’s vision.
Examples are everywhere – look at Bob Dylan’s countless versions of his most famous songs. Director’s cuts often differ wildly from the original film release. Look at Picasso’s obsessive research into the minotaur leading up to Guernica.
Curiosity and playfulness are where the real magic is. I think that this is important to remember, both as customers and as artists. These processes are not instantly gratifying, and can often be frustrating. But they are processes that we have to go through and we have to acknowledge to get the most from any piece of art.
Otherwise, there is a danger of art becoming a pre-packaged commodity. No back story. Nothing more to see.
I got my old Fostex MR16 multi-track recorder out the other day. There were a bunch of recordings on there from my music playing days. Some were ok, most were rubbish. All of them brought back amazing memories of creative times. It’s strange to hear yourself ten years ago singing songs and talking into the microphone.
The encounter with my previous self inspired me to order a microphone online and do some more recording.
Waiting on a mic.
I couldn’t even manage two posts in a row. In my defense it was my daughter’s birthday yesterday…
It’s a weak defense I know.
1000 posts…999 left 😉
I would like to get to 1000 daily blog posts. Imagine all the words I will have written.
At the low points – the dips in mood and confidence – the idea of writing my own blog seems narcissistic, presumptuous, annoying and laughable.
But at the high points, a blog seems like a valuable resource. It is a daily mantra, a way to make sense of the world around me. It is a creative outlet and a personal asset to cherish.
I have gone in waves with this blog of posting and then dropping off. Part of that is laziness, but part of it is also just the fact that I run a company, have 2 kids, 2 dogs, 2 fish and a whole life away from the computer.
However, consider this to be hopefully the first of a thousand successive blog posts. Imagine the words I will have written.
If you ever want to prove the rule of atrophy, just go on a holiday.
We left the house in mostly working order. WiFi, phones, alarms, pets, cars all up and running.
But when we came back last night, the gremlins had struck. The power was out, which had tripped our alarm, which had sent the dogs into a two day frenzy. Phone and WiFi has disconnected. The car was dead. And so on.
If you throw a bunch of bricks in the air, it’s almost impossible that they will land on top of each other in a nice organised wall. Atrophy is a natural order of things. It means that everything falls apart and bends toward chaos, unless it is maintained.
Just ask my dogs.
It’s a strange existence sometimes in Africa.
We’re on our last night of a two week holiday. I just took out a plate of food for the guard who’s been patrolling our holiday house at night time. He’s a young Zulu chap. He smiled and thanked me for the bryani. Then I got a call from the security company at home telling me our home alarm system has triggered – Is everything ok? Shall we come and assist?
We’re hundreds of miles away I tell them, but sure please go and have a look. Be nice to my dogs.
They found nothing except my grumpy dogs. We never actually put the alarm on. I think it was a power cut causing all the commotion. Guess we’ll find out tomorrow.
It is so easy to cause havoc if you really want to, but we still try to control the risk. Some countries don’t have this issue.
But they also don’t have whales and zebras and sunshine and snakes and zip lines and beaches like I experienced this holiday.
Pros and cons. The grass is always greener.