the glowing yenta: August 2010

Routine scares me, for a couple of reasons. One, because it can get too comfortable and then mediocrity settles in- that strange padded pang of potential, being swept away by content. a.k.a- the RUT. That ugh feeling of I can't go forward but I can't go backward. LIMBO. No fun. For some people, that means time to hit the road. But I suppose other people have better more sustainable, developmental ways of nurturing themselves. Lindsey and I were talking about activities and how important they are. It got me thinking about soul. Yup, SOUL. Melissa, don't mock. But I think it's so important to have people in your life that nurture your soul. People that speak to something that ignites something in you(for lack of better words). All of my friends do that for me, in very distinct ways. They show me their world. The way they see and think about things. Another reason I don't like routine is because it is so darn boring. That's why I bring my camera everywhere I go-I always have something to be looking for. Some people say that doing that takes you away from the present moment; you're too preoccupied, consumed with crystallizing a scene, a feeling, or a moment. But I kinda disagree. I think (as of today, as of now, because these days I change my mind all the time) when you're constantly seeking then you're creating and you're a part of the moment much more then just wandering off in the steady hum of routine. I take a camera to work because it makes the walk to and from, fun. Exciting. Documenting the things or moments that ignite something in me. But it's all subjective. I went to the Phillips Collection in Dupont the other day and was so incredibly confused by one of the modern art exhibits. I didn't know what was wrong with me for not appreciating this art. But I just didn't get it. I asked the guide what's up with it. I told her my frustrations and asked her if I needed to know the background or history of these particular pieces to understand their significance. She said no. She said that it's a language. Art is a language. But this particular artist's language wasn’t communicating to me, unfortunately. The guide also said that she appreciates all music, just as she appreciates all art. I don't love all music. There is some, mainly country, that I don't like.one bit. I wish I did because that would just be one more thing to like! I can see the appeal, but no, no quiet sense of wonder in that genre. So, why are we drawn to certain things? I ASK! Is it where we're from? Our friends, family, and environment that shape our affinities? Or is it in you from the moment you pop out of stomachland? I say both. Seems to be a common consensus. So what is the meaning of a blotch of white paint with one black dot? Modern art is something that I want to figure out. Actually, I don't even know if this exhibit is modern art, it almost seems like faux art. Like something South Park would satirize, which they probably do. Or maybe my concept of art is just too limited. Probably. But if that piece of artwork is meant to be a vehicle for contemplation, then I’m in trouble. Or I just need a new vehicle. But I’m going to continue to go to this exhibit. I want to try and see the virtue of this artist's work. Right now this art to me is like beer to a kid;gross and misunderstood. What’s the point? But maaaybe if I continue to look for the secret behind this man's success then I'll be able to get some insight into his perspective even if it doesn't compliment mine. Kind of like Mandarin Chinese, I don't think it's a very pretty language but it would certainly be beneficial to know. So I bring my camera with me everywhere because it allows me to create and that’s simply, fun. It creates or disciplines a sharper, more focused look at the world around you. I need that because I often get swept away into the clouds really really easily and sometimes I feel like I leave an experience feeling unfulfilled. So having a camera on me is very similar to the purpose of a yamaka on a Jewish man- a simple reminder that god is all around you in one way or the other if you just look. Bringing a camera with you makes you an observer and a participant. The organization that I work for has a program called The Way We See It. They give cameras to D.C. youth and ask them to show the rest of world their experience. The photos are incredible. And simple. One of the photos was taken by a 12 year boy and the photo is of his 5 other younger siblings sitting at the edge of a bed glued to the TV. In his photo summary he talks about how he wishes they were outside playing more, meeting neighborhood kids rather than always in front of the TV. Another picture shows a bored teacher aimlessly playing on the internet during class, that title being Why I Don’t Like Math. I don’t think taking photos should be daunting or limiting. I think if every kid had a camera it would allow them to reflect and analyze what inspires them or demoralizes them. It’s too easy to let things pass you by if you have no vehicle to express them through. I’m still trying to find my vehicles. But I can’t find them unless I look. And that’s something I’ve learned this year.