Category: Life

What is Art?

The eternal pressing question: What is art? What defines it, what is its nature, how is it differentiated from the common dross, and how do we recognize it when we see it? What. Is. Art?

Ask a hundred people, and you’ll get a hundred and one different answers. Nobody can seem to decide, though everyone, from the working joe to the professional critic, seems convinced that they know exactly what art is. The artistic merits of literature, film, paintings, and even video games are debated again and again. Is it art? But can we know, when the definition of art is as fluid as the fresh paint dripping from a canvas?

Maybe we’re asking the wrong question. Maybe we should instead ask what isn’t art.

Can this process of elimination help answer this great question? Consider the humble spoon. Is a spoon art? Well, most people would say it isn’t. You use it to eat soup and cereal. It’s a mundane thing. It has an everyday utility. It isn’t art.

What about a car? Is a car art? Well, it also has a mundane use: transportation from point A to point B. But look at car commercials and car shows. Cars boast aesthetic pleasures and pleasing design. They are promoted based on appearance, performance, improvement, and flashy lights. People collect cars. People analyze cars. Are they art? Or are they merely utilities passed off as art? And how do we know, unless we can define what art is?

This is getting complicated.

Why do Jackson Pollack’s paintings get hung up in museums but a two-year old’s paint smears don’t? What’s the difference? Aren’t they both paintings? And aren’t both paintings art? Well, the latter obviously isn’t art art because nobody cares except the parents. But everyone must care about Sydney Pollack since he gets public exhibits.

Nobody cares about spoons unless they try eating soup with a fork. But everyone cares about cars, one way or another. They’re both a fact of life, but one is just plain more noticeable than the other.

Nobody cared about the pipe until René Magritte put up a picture of one alongside the words, “This is not a pipe.” A pipe is just a pipe until it isn’t.

Maybe that’s all there is to it. Maybe art isn’t art until you decide that it’s art.

Until you care whether or not it’s art.

If enough people say that something is true, does it become true? No. No matter how many people say you can fly by flapping your arms, you can’t. But it sure is easier to think you can.

Is that all that art is? A shared belief? A social construct? Just the idea that if we belief something has merit inherent in its composition, construction, appearance, and intent, it rises above the mundane to become something with social significance?

But what about your two-year-old’s paint splatters? Is that art? What loving parent would say, “No”? To them it’s art. It’s more precious than everything in the Louvre.

Maybe art is more than just innovation, messages, and composition. Maybe it’s something more personal than that. Maybe art lies in how much it is valued by the individual. I happen to think cars all look the same and are basically just glorified boxes on wheels. I don’t see the appeal. Cars aren’t art to me. But to others, they are masterpieces.

Critics say something is art, and so we believe them. They must know what they’re talking about, right? Then, a hundred years later, the great art of the time is depreciated. It’s not as important. And new art replaces it. Tastes and preferences change. The definition of art changes based on what we think is important.

A spoon can be a piece of art. In some ways, it is by default. “Art” is a relative of the word “artifice.” Artificial. Manmade.

Maybe everything is art. But if everything is, than nothing is art.

Oh, to heck with it. Art is whatever you want it to be.

If you just so happen to be enjoying my blog, feel free to subscribe. I post updates on my writing career, I muse over storytelling and fiction, and I reflect on the curious and wonderful things in life.

My first book, A God Walks up to the Bar, is available on Amazon.com. Witness the modern day adventures of the Greek god Hermes in a world much like our own – and with demigods, vampires, nymphs, ogres, and magic. The myths never went away, they just learned to move on with the times. It’s a tough job, being a god!

Keep Soldiering On!

The snow is here. Winter continues its dismal march. I walk through slush and ice in the dark to work every morning, and return home at twilight. I don’t see much of daylight. It’s a dreary time of year. Makes it hard to write and create.

But the days are getting longer! The dismal darkness won’t last forever. I’ll see the sun again on a daily basis, and enjoy the cheer of spring.

No deep reflections today, or musings on storytelling. Just a piece of encouragement to all you creators out there to keep creating. Keep motoring on when things feel gloomy. This, too, shall pass, and tomorrow will be a little bit brighter.

Face-to-Face in an Age of Long-Distance Technology

I’m an introvert by nature. I like being alone. Being isolated holds no real terror for me. Sure, it can be a bit monotonous at times, but I have a knack for finding ways to amuse myself. All in all, I enjoy being by myself. And in today’s word of Zoom meetings and work-from-home job schedules, I have more time to myself then ever. Most of us do. Heck, the Internet has made in-person interaction almost a secondary social trait.

That being said, I will never decry the importance – the essentiality – of physically being with friends.

I recently celebrated New Year’s with a group of close friends. We spent the night playing board games and laughing at each other’s corny jokes. Not being a social butterfly, such events are relatively rare for me, which makes them all the sweeter. Being with people is fun. And if I say that as if it’s some grand discovery, maybe that’s just the millennial in me talking.

We need people. Not just people’s words on social media, or their faces on the web camera. We need to be with people. Humans are social animals.

“Relationship” is a word that’s easy to bandy about. What other words are there to use to illustrate its complexity? Friendship. Camaraderie. Partnership. Sharing. Connecting. Time investment. Yup, relationships demand our time. Maybe a friendship in person is more precious because you sacrifice the time to be there in the flesh, rather than sit on your butt in front of your computer typing from a distance.

That New Year’s party was time well-spent. The spontaneity, the laughter, the jokes, the simple act of being there. It stirred memories of when that was commonplace for me. Maybe for all of us? Before the advent of social distancing. High school and college days where I hung out with friends during lunch and chatted with them throughout the week. Things that I took for granted. Ah, but hindsight is always bittersweet.

So, this New Year has gotten me thinking about the importance of in-person relationships. Writing is a solitary activity, and that means socializing is something I must seek elsewhere. I do have a social life, mind you, but perhaps I was starting to treat it a little too casually and valuing it a little less than I should have. We all need to see a living face every once in a while.

If you just so happen to be enjoying my blog, feel free to subscribe. I post updates on my writing career, I muse over storytelling and fiction, and I reflect on the curious and wonderful things in life.

Image: “Forest” by tim_gorman; Licensed under CC BY-ND 2.0.

New Year’s Resolutions? I Resolve Not To!

New Year’s Day is a day famous for resolutions. The day when people work up the courage to swear to permanent change in their lives. To resolve to start doing this, stop doing that, and make some adjustments to these other things. A time for fresh starts.

Now, let’s be honest with ourselves. How many of you have ever kept a resolution all the way through the entire year? If you have, you have my deep and abiding respect. You are a rare breed.

I don’t believe in New Year’s resolutions. I defy this societal concept. No, I’m not being contrary for contrariness’s sake, I just don’t understand the need for it. Why wait until one day out of 365 (or 366) when you can always decide to change TODAY? That is, if you really want to improve yourself. Maybe it’s just more comfortable to say, as little orphan Annie sings, “There’s always tomorrow.” And tomorrow always seems to be such a long time coming.

That being said, it’s all well and good to come up with new goals on New Year’s Day. It’s tempting to look out across the vastness of the new year, all those blank days ripe with promise, and imagine to oneself how this time you’ll do it differently. You’ll be better this year, just wait and see. You make that silent resolution to yourself. On the same day, of course, when everyone parties hard till midnight and carouses and gets drunk and gets into car accidents. A hangover and a car repair bill. An excellent start to the new year.

Some people take resolutions very seriously. And to those people who can keep them throughout the year, I say more power to you. Like I already said, you are a rare breed. Most people make a few half-hearted mentions of a few things in life they want to be different, then forget all about it in a couple weeks (or a couple drinks).

Which isn’t to say that the idea behind New Year’s resolutions is a bad thing. We should always strive to improve ourselves. But maturity and growth is a gradual process, not something that happens in leaps and spurts. It takes a lot of effort to change something about ourselves. We stubbornly cling to bad habits and thoughts because they’ve stuck with us for so long. A single day of swearing off a habit isn’t going to make much difference. You got to work at it every day. You got to practice. Change is slow.

So, I don’t bother with New Year’s resolutions. Why should I, when I can make that resolution any day of the year? Sometimes, I make the same resolution multiple times in a week or a month, because I stumble. We all stumble, especially after making a big show of the big changes in our lives. Life likes to set us up like that. It’s like setting the cute baby seal free into the ocean with cameras rolling and – oh, there’s the shark waiting to spoil the moment.

I will make resolutions as many days as it takes to improve myself for the better and change my bad habits. No one-and-done deals. One day’s quick and easy promises aren’t enough.

If you just so happen to be enjoying my blog, feel free to subscribe. I post updates on my writing career, I muse over storytelling and fiction, and I reflect on the curious and wonderful things in life.

Image: “Fireworks – Adelaide Skyshow 2010” by anthonycramp; Licensed under CC BY 2.0.

Why Do You Create?

Christmas vacation has given me more time than usual to spend on my writing and passion. That needling desire – that need – to write is stronger than ever within me. With this awareness fresh in mind, I want to ask a question to my readers. No need to answer in the comments if you don’t want to, of course. This is just something to ponder when you have a moment.

Why do you create?

This isn’t just a question for authors, or for artists, sculptors, songwriters, musicians, poets, filmmakers, and those who doodle in their notebooks during class. This is for all who feel the urge to create something, to tinker with something, to take something apart and put it back together again.

This is for those who enjoy the act of producing and modifying and bringing into being a thing that wasn’t there before. The car mechanics, the dance choreographers, the sketchers, the gardeners, the woodcarvers, the fashion designers, the computer programmers, the origami enthusiasts, the crocheters, the embroiderers, and the engravers. The shoemakers, the tailors, the welders, the carpenters, the jewelers, and the chemists. The people who sing in the shower and the people who love decorating for Christmas. The people who color coordinate their clothes and the ones who sew blankets for their friends’ children. This is for all of you.

Why do you create?

What is this burning desire? This all-consuming thought that strikes us out of the blue: I want to make something. Why? What does it do for you? What is this amazing, crazy facet of human nature, this ability and impulse to make something new in the world?

And what happens if we don’t answer the desire? How do you feel if you can’t create, or if you experience a blockage?

Just a thought to ponder as the new year approaches. Whatever the answer, I wish you luck with your creations, and the fervent hope you can share them with others. To create is a gift, and the best gifts are shared with others.

If you just so happen to be enjoying my blog, feel free to subscribe. I post updates on my writing career, I muse over storytelling and fiction, and I reflect on the curious and wonderful things in life.

Image: “Another Bosque Sunrise” by snowpeak; Licensed under CC BY 2.0.

Legacy: What We Are Remembered For

As we get older, we start having deep thoughts. Questions run through our minds, questions like, “What will I leave behind when I’m gone?” and “How will people remember me?” With age comes an acute awareness that our time on Earth is finite, and with that come musings on what our legacy will be. What mark will our lives leave on the world? Will we, to get to the heart of things, have done anything that mattered?

Legacy is a loaded word. It’s a word associated with empires and rulers. It invokes monuments that endure for centuries. Legacies are connected to greatness. The greatest men and women of history, whether good or bad, are remembered by all.

And look at what society says to us. We must work hard to leave our own mark. We must strive to improve the world, to improve society, to make positive changes, to “be the change you want to see.” Or even, just to leave the world a little better than when we found it. A burden, one might say. It is something imposed on people from a young age to aspire to greatness.

I say it’s a distraction from what’s truly important. Today’s great accomplishments are tomorrow’s misguided attempts. We simply don’t know how we will be remembered, or by whom, or for what. That guy you accidentally cut off on the freeway is going to remember you very differently than your favorite uncle who loves the sweater you bought him for Christmas. And that piece of litter you picked up in the park without a second thought might inspire some passing child to pursue a career in conservation. The door you held open for an old lady might have given her new hope in life.

Farfetched, you say? What do we truly know about what will affect others the most? Media tells us that big causes and organizations are what change the world. But not everyone is going to make a mark on that scale. What does that tell us? That those who don’t measure up to vaguely defined goals are failures?

Right, right, this is all very deep and philosophical, but maybe you’re wondering what this means for you. Or you’re wondering who this pretentious nit with a blog is, anyhow. Well, the long and short of it is: Your legacy is everything you do, big and small. And the small things, in my experience, tend to matter more than the big.

We’re not all going to be famous when we die. We’re not all going to found a world-spanning charity or find the cure to a terrible disease or invent a new technology. But we are all capable of acts of kindness. Compassion and sympathy go a long, long way. There might not be any prizes or awards, and nobody’s going to erect a monument for a gentle word, so maybe it doesn’t appeal to everyone. At least, until you need a kind word yourself on a bad day.

We can’t control our own legacies. We can maybe dictate what’s written on our tombstone, and will our possessions to others, but how we truly affected the world – for better or ill – is a far more complex thing that can’t be summed up in a few brief achievements.

Legacies shift and change and what we consider our magnum opus might be forgotten within a few years. So, if you ever find yourself getting worried over how people remember you, just relax. Just do your best and be kind. I suspect we’d all be surprised if we were aware of the things we did that truly mattered most to others.

If you just so happen to be enjoying my blog, feel free to subscribe. I post updates on my writing career, I muse over storytelling and fiction, and I reflect on the curious and wonderful things in life.

Image: “The mountains are calling and I must go. John Muir” by blmiers2; Licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 2.0.

Putting Your Best Foot Forward: Thoughts on Confidence

You ever see someone walking down the street with an easy stride, good posture, and a sure expression on their face? You think to yourself, “Man, they’ve got it together. They know they’re going places in life.” You ever question if they actually did know what they were doing and where they’d end up? After all, if they look like they know what they’re doing, they probably do, right?

Well, maybe not.

How often did you ask mom and dad questions about the world when you were a kid? And you took their answers as gospel truth. Parents always know why the sky is blue, and why the moon disappears during the day, and how car engines work, and when Santa is coming down the chimney on Christmas Eve. They were the all-knowing arbiters of wisdom.

Then we grew up and figured out that our parents were barely keeping it together. Blazes if they knew the right answers to a young child’s innocent curiosity. We become parents ourselves and end up playing the same part, only to discover that we can barely manage a coherent sentence in response to our children’s relentless torrent of questions.

But our parents always LOOKED like they knew what they were talking about. And because of that, we never thought to question anything they said. They could have told us the world really was black and white with no color in the 1950s, and our young selves would have believed them.

What about the inverse? An expert – in mathematics, let’s say – lectures in front of an audience. He’s giving one of those TED talks or what have you. He knows exactly what he’s talking about. He’s foremost in his field. But he stutters. He’s nervous being out in public like this. Consequently, he can’t explain the concepts very well. He has a nervous laugh and shuffles his feet. An expert? Sure. But we aren’t inclined to take him seriously. Not like Dad, who has no idea how photosynthesis works, but is able to bluff his three-year-old with a bold smile and a ready answer.

Confidence is a funny thing. It’s no guarantee of truth or accuracy, but it is such a vital component of how others perceive us. We trust confident people. They at least have the decency to look like they know what they’re about. And hey, if they trust their own skill, why shouldn’t we? Well, that way lies potential catastrophe, but that’s the point. We follow those who look like they know where they’re going. Confidence is no substitute for competence, but it is an important ingredient in leadership and successful undertakings.

Writing your book is one thing. Selling it is another. The Internet is full of ways to advertise, but if you don’t believe in the product yourself, why should others? If you don’t have the self-assurance that your story is worth reading, how are you going answer the question, “Why should I care?” If you don’t have any confidence, any trust in your book’s quality, people notice. And who wants to read a book that even the author doesn’t think is very good? Have a little faith in your work!

We live in a superficial world. Sad, but true. People look at our appearance and how we carry ourselves. Before they get to know us, they spot little details –shirt stains, unkempt hair, untied shoelaces. And thus, our self-presentation impresses itself on people’s memories for far longer than a good conversation or a well-informed lecture. Likewise, if any aspiring writers are trying to convince someone to read their book and looks nervous and withdrawn when discussing the thing, that’s what our would-be readers will remember, not that we actually wrote a good story that they’ll enjoy.

Is that fair? Not really. But it’s real. Writing requires skill and practice and patience. But to get people to read that story? That requires the belief that the story you told is worth sharing with others. It requires confidence to say that your story is worth the effort.

If you just so happen to be enjoying my blog, feel free to subscribe. I post updates on my writing career, I muse over storytelling and fiction, and I reflect on the curious and wonderful things in life.

Image: “BASE jump” by santimolina; Licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 2.0.

Escapism: A Necessary Respite

Escapist entertainment. What thoughts run through your head when you hear that phrase? Positive? Negative? Joy? Disapproval?

Escapism gets a bit of a bad rap. Life is serious business, and there’s a lot of work to be done. People are suffering. Injustice is rampant. And when are you going to pay those bills? Why are you wasting time on fluff?

But is escapism a bad thing?

Imagine yourself going up against the hard knocks of life every day. Life is a jerk. It hits you hard without letting up. And it doesn’t play fair. It pulls your hair, throws sucker punches, and it cheats you out of a rightful win.

Even when life lets up, work and responsibilities can weigh heavily. Imagine a rock on the coast, battered by the waves every hour of every day of every year. The rock stands tall for a time, but every wave takes a little bit of it into the sea. The stone is smoothed and weathered. Eventually, it wears away completely. That is a person who works and works and works, but never takes time for a moment’s respite. Life just … wears you down to nothing.

We need to escape, sometimes.

Some light reading, a silly movie, an action-filled comic book, a walk in the park, a thrilling sports activity. For someone somewhere in the world, they’re all ways to distance oneself from the daily grind and relax. They are ways to refresh the mind and body and forget about our troubles for a few precious moments. We need escapism for the sake of our sanity.

Escapist fiction allows us to suspend disbelief and accept that there can be stories that don’t have to reflect reality. Superman and James Bond and Indiana Jones aren’t high art, but they are fun. And what’s the point of entertainment that isn’t fun? There is art and literature that dwells on philosophical questions and searches for meaning in the tragedies of life, but here’s another nugget to chew on: Real life never goes away. It’s waiting for you right outside the door. There is plenty of time to dwell on the deep questions. But don’t we just want to – need to – take a break from it once in a while?

Ah, but here comes the counterpoint: Escapism is withdrawing from responsibility to society and ourselves. It’s evading the important things in life, the things that we must do to live healthily and productively. But all things in moderation. A life of nothing but escapist fantasy is as bad as a life of nothing but grim obligation to work.

Still, there’s a reason why people like fluff entertainment. There’s a reason why people want to laugh at silliness and cheer on the hero fighting the evil villain. Such stories are simple and inspiring. Why do you think cartoons and comics were thriving during the Great Depression? Or during the more recent Great Recession, for that matter? People need something good in their lives, and for many, that can only be found in stories. And it is a healthy thing, because people need hope. We all need a counterbalance against the mundane and dreary.

The greatest responsibility, then, of the escapist is to remember that there is a time and place for everything. A time to mourn, and a time to laugh. A time to work, and a time to play. But don’t forget to take a moment’s respite. You might need it more than you think.

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Image: “Pittsfield Hot Air Balloon Rally – 2006” by Heartlover1717; Licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 2.0.

Thankful for the Unexpected

You walk through life. Everything is going according to plan. Every day like the one before – the grating yet comforting grind of monotony. Then BAM. You’re caught by a curveball. A piece of bad news or a freak event. Something you could never have possibly foreseen. Your plans implode, and you’re left with your head spinning.

On the other hand …

Something joyous happens, something spectacular that you never dared hope for. It’s the greatest news ever, the most wonderful unplanned thing to happen to you. Your plans are upended in the best way possible.

What do you do when life hands you the unexpected? I like plans. I like organization. I like to go through life knowing what’s going to happen next. When something pops up that isn’t part of the plan, I bristle. Even good things, sometimes. My control freak tendencies take a hit from things in life beyond my control. The older I get, the more thankful I am for that.

I could go on about how life is a test and molds us and so forth, but let’s dispense with the cliches. What I’m most thankful for is that the unexpected in life – good and bad – show us who we really are. We dig deep when confronted with a crisis to prove our real mettle. A disaster buffets us, and cracks in our supposed good character can appear. We get to know ourselves a little better. No need to fret, though. Knowing that they are there gives us a chance to address them.

I don’t believe that anyone can truly know themselves fully. Our “real” selves are a bit of a mystery to our own minds. We humans are simply simply too complex and too multilayered to be able to completely comprehend ourselves, much less others. But we do get glimpses of insight every now and then. Life isn’t the only thing full of the unexpected. We can defy our own expectations. We accomplish things we didn’t know we could, we possess virtues we never, ever suspected we had, and we also display vices we never thought we possessed.

Okay, life is a test at times. But testing isn’t meant to break. I’m very glad that life has thrown curve balls at me. I’d be stagnating in my own self-satisfaction if I didn’t know where and how I could improve. Always room for growth and all that jazz.

This naturally extends to writing. No great writer ever rested on his or her laurels. They keep improving, working, pushing themselves to become better. And writing is a career where you put yourself into the public’s eye. Readers can detect if you’re improving or not. Scary, no? And no writer can ever 100% predict how readers will react. What form will the criticism take? What will be the readers’ reactions? Are we ready? Can we ever be ready? But we roll with the punches as best we can and figure out what went right and what went wrong. And we write a better story next time.

Expect the unexpected. Welcome it. You’re going to be thrown for a loop someday anyway. Might as well as learn to embrace the good that comes from it.

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Image: “River meander, outside of Kobuk Valley National Park” by AlaskaNPS; Licensed under Public Domain Mark 1.0.

Climbing Out of Your Burrow: Read New Things!

Image: “Rabbit and Burrow” by Stephen.G; Licensed under CC BY-NC 2.0.

“Cuddling up with a good book” is a phrase that invites images of coziness and comfort. It’s like being a rabbit holed up in your burrow, safe and secure. And we do like being comfortable. The same predictable genre or series over and over is a safe choice for when we get the itch to read something. But we are not rabbits. We humans benefit greatly from trying new things. Sometimes, we need to climb out of our burrows and take a close look at the landscape. A new book, a new genre, a new experience.

It’s not easy to do something we’ve never tried before, even with something as seemingly trivial as trying a new book. But it’s not trivial, is it? For some of us (myself included), it can be very daunting indeed. Reading is a time investment. Sinking time into something we might not even enjoy is time forever lost to us. Dare we take the risk?

I say we should. Life is short enough without limiting ourselves to a narrow view of it. Stories grow us and expand our perspective on the world. And who knows? You just might discover something new to love in literature. Trying new things is its own reward, and challenging ourselves to grow is always beneficial.

Rabbits are nervous, wary creatures. But rabbits can’t read and know the joy of encountering a new tale, of being lost in a new world of words. There are so many worlds out there, contained in the pages of a book or imprinted in the code of an eBook, and they’re all there for us to visit whenever we want. Why shouldn’t we try to explore as much as we can?

Alright, I’ll be honest. I’ve read books I didn’t enjoy. I’ve tried things recommended to me that I didn’t get much of a thrill doing. But, as they say, you never know until you try. On the other hand, I discovered some of my favorite franchises thanks to a friend or family member. And sometimes just from idle curiosity.

Whether you’re a writer or not, if you love literature, than never stop exploring its many corners. Leave your burrow and go out and see what there is to see!

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