Talent--it's breathes all around us. People can be so extraordinary. Watching the latest episode of SYTYCD last night I was yet again gobsmacked by art—the gifts of our bodies and brains. Not just dance, either, but in as many media as one can imagine. Each day I read the stories written by people I know, or from people I don’t know and must “judge,” and marvel at the creative impulse, the genius that must be ubiquitous—so much abounds. Feeling uninspired? Drab? Walk Off the Earth’s clever little cover song, performed with such acumen and wit, surely makes you feel a smidge better about the human stain? We are sublime.
Still, we focus and aggrandize production and consumption in our lives; our admiration doled out most often to those that accumulate money and power and things of “status” that ultimately mean nothing. We call him "Mr. Trump," for nothing more than his self-proclaimed status.The venture to become top dog is privileged, protected and exalted, and our singular impulse to art is diminished, mocked, and too often wholly unsupported.
Still, we focus and aggrandize production and consumption in our lives; our admiration doled out most often to those that accumulate money and power and things of “status” that ultimately mean nothing. We call him "Mr. Trump," for nothing more than his self-proclaimed status.The venture to become top dog is privileged, protected and exalted, and our singular impulse to art is diminished, mocked, and too often wholly unsupported.
When there is this wave to pull solitude from your subconsciousness.
When there is this profound, eternal beauty, to remind you of passion.
When your friends—people you speak to and commune with—who have liked your work, create things like this, or this, or this!
Where is our humanity expressed in a collection of homes, or holdings or accounts? Where is it held in the stuff of foreclosure and assumptions and blame? In artificial deadlines, in never enough sleep, in the drudgeries and imperatives?
Today I’m overwhelmed by the need to support and celebrate human expression--through music, writing, painting (fine arts), dance, sculpture, voice … in a time of pressing need, deadly viruses, staggering violence. We don’t have to be (and likely will not be) as skilled as those I’ve linked here, we just have to remember to take a step back, be in the moment of awareness and leap, sing, write, paint, chisel, mold, form. Just do it, even if you're late, even if you're tired. Do it with your kids, your dog, your spouse!
You'll be so much happier to be alive.
When there is this profound, eternal beauty, to remind you of passion.
When your friends—people you speak to and commune with—who have liked your work, create things like this, or this, or this!
Where is our humanity expressed in a collection of homes, or holdings or accounts? Where is it held in the stuff of foreclosure and assumptions and blame? In artificial deadlines, in never enough sleep, in the drudgeries and imperatives?
Today I’m overwhelmed by the need to support and celebrate human expression--through music, writing, painting (fine arts), dance, sculpture, voice … in a time of pressing need, deadly viruses, staggering violence. We don’t have to be (and likely will not be) as skilled as those I’ve linked here, we just have to remember to take a step back, be in the moment of awareness and leap, sing, write, paint, chisel, mold, form. Just do it, even if you're late, even if you're tired. Do it with your kids, your dog, your spouse!
You'll be so much happier to be alive.
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