GLEANING!

 

Such an amazing inspirational evening surrounded by good friends trying to make a positive impact on the world. I feel so lucky to have such dedicated, driven, and intelligent women in my life and I can't wait to see where this goes. I don't know where I'd be without such a community of women and I am grateful to feel such inspiration and love in my life! More on this initiative soon.

creating dialogue

My brother sent me this article the other day and I think it's worth sharing. Abortion is not a topic we discuss openly; it is just so hard for people to talk about and I've seen few articles in the mainstream press (we can argue whether Slate is mainstream) that really are willing to engage in real dialogue about it. Still, there is still a lot to talk about; I applaud Slate and William Slaten for this pair of articles in response to the Princeton University conference Abortion Common Ground. I also applaud the young pro-life conference organizers, Charles Camosy and Jennifer Miller. May more people have the courage to stand up and seek real solutions with your so-called enemy.

For pro-choicers
For pro-lifers

Read both.

 

the mental data base

On Wednesday, Jay Forrester, the founder of System Dynamics, came to speak in class. System Dynamics is a field of study and a framework to understand the dynamics of complex systems using a fairly simple methodology of stocks, flows, and the relationships between them. It was founded and fully developed at MIT and has been an incredibly influential class on me.

I have not always been a great systems thinker. This matters in work, but also in personal relationships, where in the past I sometimes willfully ignored effects caused by my actions, and subsequently acted destructively toward myself and others. Moreover, I tend to rely heavily on my intuition, i.e. my mental models, which I know are quite flawed, albeit sometimes quite useful. The course has therefore been a tool for me to begin to question my assumptions and develop more robust, analytical, and hopefully helpful models of my decision-making and behavior.

Wednesday, two things struck me:

1) This diagram:

This is an image of the various databases of available information. We so often prioritize a numerical database as the "real," the "objective," and even the "true." The written becomes suspect due to biases of the writer or contextual analysis, and certainly the mental is all but useless. However, Jay Forrester put a lot of stock in the mental database, citing all those processes that are just passed on from person to person, e.g., how to make an automobile, or, until recently, how to raise a child. There is so much we learn from each other--from person to person interaction--that is not recorded. We must learn to prioritize and to value this information. There is truth there.

2) The idea of system dynamics as a base model and founding principle of K-12 education. In the first few weeks of Leadership Lab, we watched a video of three first graders using the tools of System Dynamics to model how the reinforcing loop of bad behavior led to playground fights. It was really an incredible exercise of young children understanding cause and effect. I wish I could find the video; I will update if I do.

Jay Forrester shared the story of a biology teacher who used System Dynamics models to teach biology, first nervous that he would not get through half the semester given the material he needed to teach both in methodology and content. In the end he had more than 1/3 of the semester free. Amazing.

This could be such a powerful tool for U.S. schools. I'm not quite sure of how the project will be implemented yet, but I think this is something I could really get on board with. More on the educational initiatives here.

choosing the company you keep

I just came from a lunchtime talk by Elana Drelln Szyfer, former SVP of Global Marketing for Estée Lauder and newly appointed General Manager of Ahava.

While her professional accomplishments were extraordinary, what really stuck out to me in her talk was her discussion of the culture of each company where she worked and the struggle to have a family in the beauty industry. Her candor, honesty, and recognition of her own behavior and mistakes, as well as those around her, was inspiring.

When I worked in the arts, literally all the senior women were either never married or divorced and on the whole childless. My mentor, the COO of the New Museum was frank with me when she left: working at the museum was more taxing than working in venture capital. My direct boss was married to her job and the artists she worked with. My young female colleagues and I discusses how we could be successful amid this environment that seemed to require that sort of commitment.

Elana's story does not seem that different, though she's about 10 years my senior. None of her colleagues have children. She hid her first pregnancy as long as possible, worked late the night before she gave birth, and then was on a business trip to Europe 13 weeks after giving birth. She admits she thinks this is crazy now but it's what she needed to prove herself and do her job. She was candid about the difficulties of being the sole mother in a sea of women without families.

There are stories about how the founder of the New Museum used to have her children around her regularly, bringing them on business trips and to openings. It's a nice image, and I love the chutzpah that took in an industry where the single male curator is (believe it or not) still the mental model of ideal.

Strangely, there are far more women with families in consulting. I don't quite know what to make of this now--I don't have a family and I do have ambitions in a difficult industry--but it was just so good, and so important, to hear a senior woman be honest about her experience.

for company

Come on over. The bar is stocked (two more in the fridge).

(does this mean I have a problem? if so, come on over and share it!)

the couple below

The couple below me is fighting.

Her voice is strained: raw, threatening pained yelling, crying, desperation spilling up through the floor boards. His voice is lower, a mumble with occasional rises, almost impossible to make out.

I found myself paralyzed--these are sounds I do not forget and resonate all too well with some years with the ex. It's not something I talk about much because how can you ever really explain that feeling of pain and desperation. I just know I never want to feel it again and even being adjacent to it now is too close.

There were few people who directly saw how hard it was, though everyone close to me experienced it indirectly. During one of the worst periods, someone sent me this song. Listening to it today still gives me comfort (and chills).

authenticity

The subject of authenticity is one that contemporary theory wrestles with regularly. It is a not a pretty fight.

I'm on the plane back from New Orleans and perhaps there is no better place to think about authenticity than through this lens. New Orleans is at once a complete simulacra of what it's supposed to be and completely genuine. How can a city live with such paradox?

I glowed in the music spilling out from all the bars along Frenchman Street last night, and danced in the street to a 12-piece brass band just jamming on the street corner.

A friend spoke in glowing terms of the authenticity. I'm not so sure, but then I thought, does it matter? And what does that even mean anyway?

Why is it not authentic that Nanook of the North loved his vinyl disc? Is there a difference between staging and the dramatizations we live out regularly? I know the subtleties are there--who is the audience, who is the director, who owns the gaze and for whom do we perform--but there are gray lines, my friends, gray lines indeed. 

tell me how you really feel

I've been trying to practice lately saying what I really feel. For those of you who know me well (presumably, everyone reading this), this is not exactly something I struggle with. The direct method has been my preferred mode of communication for years. However, among loved ones or in certain situations (personal or professional), we often subsume or sugar coat our true thoughts or feelings.

I recently caught part of He's Just Not That Into You on television. I've seen the movie before and remember having pretty mixed emotions about it--it was at once incredibly degrading and pathetic, and at the same time, very familiar.

Being honest is perhaps the best thing we can do for those we love. Of course we must do it empathetically and lovingly if the news we're delivering may be hard to hear--and of course, there are other times when it is really better just to say nothing--but friends can help us confront our own destructive behavior, bad decisions, and tough realities. Some of my most important self-realizations and growth has happened in these circumstances.

So bring it on! And, in return, I promise to be honest, loving, and sensitive to you through periods of toughness and of joy.

risk

It's not that I don't take risks--I just do so within a very narrow range--and they are these days generally very well calculated.

The latter part is not a bad thing; the former likely is, at least given how I want to develop. I've been thinking a lot of this lately as I've seen my friends around me take risks, big and small, to build the life they want to live. A good friend who I respect immensely recently gave me the feedback that he can see me doing anything I want but that I must push myself to take those risks and to dream bigger.

This resonated with what I myself had been thinking about. Even before this conversation, this personal challenge is one of the reasons I'm trying to do something entirely new during the summer before I start work.

Part of the difficulties for me, of course, is something I've written about here before: at this stage in my life, or perhaps as part of my character, I enjoy much more to share experiences with someone else--risks, successes, failures, experiences. I have little control over that variable, however, so perhaps charging ahead is one of the greatest challenges of all, and necessary to that development, is to charge on with my own plans and preparations.

inspiration on a rainy day

3 things this morning:

1) I'm so excited for this film to come out:



When I was an intern at Creative Time way back in 2003, they had recently completed a project with Vik Muniz and I've been following his work since. When Kevin first shared this video over the summer, I was skeptical. The movie seemed potentially exploitative, romanticizing poverty and moreover "saving from poverty," and advocating a missionary-like view of the artist. My position has softened since and I'm not sure why. Maybe I trust the artist and filmmakers more, maybe the cynicism has given way, maybe I am just ready for some beauty and inspiration. Whichever, it's opening at the Kendall theater on November 19. Holla.

2) My friend Lauren, whom many of you know well. She and her boyfriend Luke have been living in remote Chilean Patagonia for the past three months. I've recently become hesitant to say I'm proud of people because it implies some sort of positioning/ownership I'm not sure I'm comfortable with, but goddammit I am so proud of/impressed by/jealous of/happy for her. This is an adventure of a lifetime and after years in New York, it must be an amazing experience to just pick up for something so otherwordly. I can't wait to see what happens next and I can't wait to welcome her back to the US with open arms and see/hear more about this time. Read her blog. There's more adventure there than you can believe, including a recent run in with a bull.

3) Today's Letters Tuesday Question. I think I've mentioned this blog before and there are some parts of it that sort of make me want to scoff and churn, but overall, I love this idea of investing regularly in your relationship, of keeping lines of communication open, and of being open and proactive about taking care of those you love. Maybe it won't be everyday letters, but a regular practice of gratitude, appreciation, and forgiveness for those I love is something I'd like to create.

4) New Orleans tomorrow! Bring it on city of jazz, intrigue, and debauchery. Psyched cause Prospect 1.5 just opened too. Yippee!

lessons from today

Break-down: an expectation not being realized; an opportunity for growth.

Over the past months, I developed the following practice, especially in interactions with others. I've written about it here before:

1) spend the time to know what you want
2) ask for it without fear or reservation (or work for it)
3) put expectations on hold as much as possible
4) hope for the best
5) prepare for the worst

Of course 3 is impossible, but it does help to remind oneself. Then when those break-downs occur, it can be better managed and more mindful, hopefully even more of an opportunity for growth.

Interestingly, many of my recent break downs, and those I've seen or observed with my friends, have been internal or at least internally dealt with. Part of the process of personal growth.

perspectives on friendship

Good advice tonight from an old friend about friendship:

you want to think that you can just be 100% honest or yourself all the time with all of your friends, but sometimes there are extra layers of sensitivity

in the meantime, eat your own sensitivity a bit, if its worth it to you, and thats the thing you just have to assess how much you're willing to take/what is worth it to you 

And a reminder of a very salient example from her own life and our own friendship group: sometimes we can't partake in all parts of our friends' lives or have them participate in all parts of ours. We have our own baggage and sometimes it's heavier and it is all we can do to try to carry it ourselves to avoid burdening others too much. And in those times, we may not have a lot of arms left to hug or a lot of smiles left to share. And such is life, right? Such is life. The best we can all do is try to understand each other's position, the things we carry, and know that our actions are born from lov

the agony of grading and evaluation

I just returned home from handing back a large assignment for one of the classes I'm TAing and feel slightly wracked. (Indeed, I believe I'm supposed to be wracked with something, but I just feel more wracked).

Grading has been the hardest part of my fall. I agonize over it--both put it off, and then take too long to do it, made worse by knowing that students are waiting for their grades. I think in part it's because I remember the anxiety of being a first year and really caring about what my grades were (to suggest I don't now would of course be foolish, but it is so much less it almost becomes negligible in comparison). Furthermore, I don't want to upset them because I know that for the most part they really do put in the effort and thought.

That said, there is work that is better, and how do I recognize that? Plus, grades can be a powerful motivator and have been for me many times in the past. Never was I so challenged than when I was given a grade and told--you can do better.

It's just it feels so imperfect. I had a system, a scorecard, but there was still some arbitrariness, and my initial rankings get all screwy when I started scoring by the point system.

I just don't want to upset people. The parts of TAing I've loved most--mentoring the first years, teaching recitations--almost seem to be put into jeopardy by giving them bad grades. I at once don't want to disappoint them or make them feel they have disappointed me. I may be fretting too much about it, but I could not shake this feeling all the way home, and held off actually parting with the papers as long as possible, questioning how I could increase marks (and I did--I inflated significantly!), write more, give more positive feedback. As I got off the train, part of me wanted to turn around and scoop up all those papers again, save them and save myself from the process of evaluation.

rather be dancing

"'Humans and songbirds' are the only creatures 'that automatically feel the beat' of a song,' she said. 'The human heart wants to synchronize to music...'"


(from)

the future

I have been asked to plan my life a year in advance. And for someone who likes to make her decisions collectively, or at least with others, this is a difficult exercise. I am agnostic about many things in the future, mainly location, but I am pretty certain how I want my life to feel. In many ways, these are long run considerations though--it's the planner in me that frets about them. Where, with whom, and in what fashion how will I construct my life?

Instead of focusing on these long-term considerations, some of which must be decided by December (conclusions are forming), I will day dream about short-term plans (you cannot take the planner out of this girl). Dinner with old old friends on Tuesday, hurricanes in New Orleans on Friday, maybe snuggles on Sunday. Hopefully a heckuva lot of work in between.

I've also been daydreaming recently about taking the summer to do something completely out of the ordinary this summer before starting work: a project in Africa, perhaps. The idea scares me as much as it excites me. These past few years have been a lot about teaching myself to take risks and be comfortable in those risks, regardless of the outcome...the chips will fall where they fall and we seize the multitude of opportunities available. We must play it as it lays.

So here's to accepting the planner but teaching her to be patient, and to a short and long run full of flexibility, experiments, calculated risks, and a heckuva lot of joy.

investing

It's hard to start writing again without wanting to update, but that is not the purpose of this exercise. This is a letter to no one, but a space to process, to reflect, to be conscious and conscientious.

The freneticisim of the fall has begun to abate and I can focus again, make choices about how I want to spend my time and with whom, and begin to be the daughter, friend, person I want to be.

On Thursday, I made an important decision, more in its symbolism than anything else: I chose not to take on another course. Small, yes, but a step in the right direction of taking on only what I can truly handle and moreover, only those things that energize me and that I want to do. In fact, I just said no to something else tonight, something that might have been an honor. I am thrilled with my progress in shutting people/opportunities down. Ha. I jest, but it's an important skill to learn: there is no way I can invest and give where I really want to if I don't know how to say no. And there are too many opportunities, people, and experiences in which I want to give myself fully to say yes to those that are not up to par.

And of those experiences: A weekend well-spent (except now I have to get to all things I "should" do that I already committed to!): organizing life and thoughts, good friend rescue (I was rescuee) and staying calm in the face of misadventure (Boston parking, I do hate thee), dancing in gilt and glitz and a country cafe (the second wins), walks in the woods, and a lazy Sunday of good food and good hugs. That prototype is maybe getting there incrementally.

oh hello

It has been quite awhile.

The feeling of fall has developed into the full-blown season and the ground was littered with yellow leaves as I walked home today.

It has not been an easy few months. And yet, we neglect the things we need most to keep us stable. On the mat, when I need my breath most to keep my steady, I hold it in, and topple. Like in life.

I sit tonight and I catch my breath. There is much to do, there is much to say, but tonight is just the beginning again.

something in the air...

feels like fall!

I know it's only an anomaly and it'll soon be hot again, but there's something in the air that feels like fall, significantly helped by back to school commercials.

I love this time of year. So much opportunity...I'm not sure I'll ever get that school mindset out of my brain.

Yippee for sweaters, coats, crisp fall air, apple cider, fall foliage, the smell of new...

been so busy

Work, drinks with colleagues, Frank Lloyd Wright houses, evenings in Millennium Park--been so busy hardly time to introspect. It has been lovely. Somehow things always come together at the end: finally exploring some of Chicago's greatness, almost starting to feel somewhat competent at work (though I still wake up in a panic at times, where's the blackberry), and I'm definitely liking the people at work better. You find your people anywhere eventually. :)

Saturday in Oak Park--Frank Lloyd Write the megalomaniac genius--though the other Frank--Gerry--trumped him (a momentary trump is all my friends) in the evening, under the stars, fireworks over the water echoing off the Michigan Avenue buildings, the Pritzker Pavilion lattice bringing the sky down. It was like this:

But better. Those crossbars have the most amazing effect of creating intimacy. There was no show Saturday, just picnickers with blankets, wine bottles, teenagers with frisbees, and security guards on Segways.

Walked by the Bean as the park was closing--ours was the only reflection. So lovely. 

Missed saturday morning happy (again!) but here's to shared breakfasts, getting out and doing things, design details, and bubbles.

We inherit our roles, but we also choose them.

Such a great line from this week's Modern Love.

being alone, part 3792

I have written so much about being alone this summer, can you believe there is even more to say? But lo behold, there is!

Being on a new study and in Chicago three weekends in a row gives probably the best idea of how this job would actually feel.

I get my buoyancy by interacting with people I love. Spending too much time alone lends to over-introspection, which leads to heaviness, seriousness, etc. This also leads to less focus, less efficiency. Which then makes me even heavier and less productive!

Plus then your weekends are filled with errands and trying in vain to somehow make it feel like you're a part of the city where your apartment is. 

things to celebrate this morning

overhead rain showers (thank you Marriott), separate showers and bathtubs (the ultimate in luxury, in my humble opinion), those new fangled razors that do not slice up your legs (honestly, single blade, you are my enemy and soooo dangerous), Bonterra Chardonnay (don't be Chardonnay haters, this is organic and delicious), Thursdays in general.

UPDATE: also, California's ability to perfectly air condition places! (which, I guess is really a way to NOT celebrate the east's tendency to over-air condition every single building. br. I'm cold); also, Lily Allen, I am into her right now.

inspiration

I'm really grateful to have the opportunity to work on a second project this summer. My life in LA was not exactly typical for a whole variety of reasons.

I'm also glad to be able to work in the industry I thought I'd like most--CPG/Retail.

Realization of the week #2: yeah, not so interested in this either.

In fact, I almost feel less good about this than I did about my previous job. CPG and Retail companies are generally just trying to get you to buy more crap. I tell you, we don't really need more crap. Sure, working for an inspirational company who is changing an industry might be amazing, but even those companies and brands people are passionate about--Nike, Avon, Target, etc.--are still selling stuff that generally people don't need!

Let's be clear. I like buying that stuff. We all know how I feel about clothes. And we can extend that to other awesome products, but it's not what I want to devote my life to, or what I want to build in this world. Increasing a company's profitability, regardless of its products, just does not inspire me. Talk about up-sell, cross-sell, etc., just depresses me.*

It's the same feeling I had at the beginning of my last study and I hope it doesn't go away ever, even if I choose to stay on for a few years in this position. I'm a little sad because I thought I'd be interested in this industry, but knowing is better than not knowing. Furthermore, it clarifies that I probably won't be interested in recruiting for any big CPG/Retail company so it seems it really is between this job and going back to the creative industries.

I want to work in a job, creating things, that inspires me and offers inspiration to others. Though this is generally an unfashionable position to hold these days (be damned postmodernism), this quotation from Thomas Hoving, the former director the Metropolitan Museum of Art, is sort of how I feel about it:

I tend to look upon works of art partly spiritual and mysterious and partly human and fragile. Their lofty nature helps me break free from the mundane. They provide a defense from all the cultural trash that threatens to inundate me. They keep me in balance. I need great works of art for the uplift of the soul. Their exalted character clears my brain. I harbor the secret hope that some of the genius they possess for eternity will rub off on me. Their all-too-human characteristics teach me something about humility. They enable me to fall in love with Mandingo.

How romantic. A busy fall awaits...

* I wonder if a "useful" industry would feel better, but I have no real inherent interest in energy, finance (there are some useful parts), etc. Of course, there are useful parts of all industries and I understand why people would be interested in many things. I just am inspired by something else.

know thyself: fail, part 2

I have been going around all summer talking about how my former industry--the arts--was woman-heavy and I was therefore most comfortable working with and being around women.

That is a pure load baloney. In fact, the people I worked with daily over three years were men, with the exception of my boss and the directors above her.

On my new study, I'm working primarily with women and I remember some of the difficulties I've had in the past in all female environments. Even if it's not, it feels more competitive. Often times the competition isn't even about work, but just who has the bigger voice. These are generally contests I either like to explicitly dominate or not engage in. In addition, the project manager is maternal in a way that almost makes me uncomfortable. Of course, we all really work with individuals, not genders, but women working with women notoriously have a certain built in tension. Also, interesting to note the stories I invent about myself, some of which are just SO wrong (remember the P vs. J debate?). Why do I do that? 

So, I revise my position: I think I prefer to work with men, but have inspirational women leaders. I'm still a little scared of senior men in suits and shiny shoes.

the lifeblood

Since leaving the rush and hustle of school, I've become aware of the degree to which I rely on male attention. The abrupt cut in California was a hard stop, and the absence was actually physically painful. It's not so much that any of the attention was specific or particularly romantic. I dated in the spring, but I was also surrounded by dear male friends who supported, teased, and adored me.

My relationships with women are the depth of my strength, but my relationships with men are my daily bread and butter. I will go for a month or more without talking to someone who is a best friend for the ages and the next time we talk, nothing has changed. There's a depth of connection, across time, intensities, space.

Interactions with men, however, generally take a different form. They are the rise and fall of each day, the pace quicker, bob and weave, particularly where there is intrigue. Mer and I talked about this the other day--my lifeblood she said.

I worry about this, as I worry about anything I become too dependent on. I don't want you to get hurt says Liron. I don't feel at risk--I take each interaction for what it is, for this time, for this place. I feel love and appreciation and energy, but still, I worry. Because in the absence, I do feel loss; not hurt, but loss.

I have been very careful in the past months not to take male attention or affection as direction-setting for my own behavior. It has reinforced my own agency, but I think I have only been put to the test when I finally freed myself of attaching any meaning to the ex's attentions. Free and free-wheeling, suddenly the attention of other men can have real meaning. It's something I will watch closely over the next months.

she had so much

Current research suggests that, unlike consumption of material goods, spending on leisure and services typically strengthens social bonds, which in turn helps amplify happiness. (Academics are already in broad agreement that there is a strong correlation between the quality of people’s relationships and their happiness; hence, anything that promotes stronger social bonds has a good chance of making us feel all warm and fuzzy.)

And the creation of complex, sophisticated relationships is a rare thing in the world. As Professor Dunn and her colleagues Daniel T. Gilbert and Timothy D. Wilson point out in their forthcoming paper, only termites, naked mole rats and certain insects like ants and bees construct social networks as complex as those of human beings. In that elite little club, humans are the only ones who shop.

A great couple of paragraphs from last week's widely-circulated NYT article, "But Will It Make You Happy?". My parents have always focused us on experiences--our cars weren't fancy, but we traveled the world. We lived abroad and visited friends who were also living abroad, we spent money on summer camps that were pivotal to both my brother and myself. It has made our family, especially my relationship with my brother, immeasurably closer.

This summer has been one of re-knitting connections with old friends and building networks and experiences with new ones. I'm excited to one day build that community in one place, but how lucky am I to take those individuals I find scattered--it is a rare thing indeed to find that connection.
.
Probably not something we didn't know already...but nice to be reminded (also nice to see the realization at the end that sometimes clothes DO make some people happy. I'm sorry, I just love dem; likewise, the means to build a home, be surrounded by beauty of one type or another).

a silent week

It's been a week I've last written. It was a busy busy week, wrapping things up in LA, and I think I chose action over reflection this week.

Reflections on the way home felt too gut emotional to even begin to write about. The hard stop at the end of the sprint. Bon Iver on the headphones, watching the sun shine and set over the cumulus clouds, face to the wall to hide unexplainable tears. Yet another thing ending, the time in LA.

Sunday evenings breed wistful nostalgia; Sunday evening dinners would combat this: end your week with a sink full of dishes but the embrace of those you love.

New York for the next two weeks. Maybe what they say is right: I am too coastal for this town--they keep sending me to the coasts!

This is making me really happy tonight: http://www.todaysletters.com/. Amazing. 

no better way

Is there a better way to spend a sunny Sunday afternoon than lounging poolside sharing a newspaper and chit-chatting with your grandmother?

I think not.

I took off my pants, drank root beer, munched on blueberries, and even grabbed a quick snooze. Yet another reason California is calling.

all grown up

I love to be at this stage in my life. It is so exciting to see people all grown up--to see what all my friends are accoplishing. It's extraordinary.

You never really understand it when you're young. Or at least I didn't. I had visions of impacting the world, of making change, of building something, but hello, it's here! My friends are doing incredible things--making waves all over in all their various endeavors. And it is so awesome to watch. How cool are you, friends?

directional signs

I've read the paper newspaper the last two mornings, sitting in the lovely restaurant at the W.

I scan the front page, and then immediately gravitate towards the arts sections.

I always did this when I was younger, much to my father's chagrin. He wanted me to read the whole paper, especially the front sections. And while I do care to know what's going on (usually, sometimes it's nice just to ostrich), I just gravitate toward the content in the arts. I start flipping through the sections and it's almost unconscious, the content just pulls me in and I read the whole section first.

The other section I grab now and read front to end: business. The unconscious selective mind seems to think it's pretty clear--I'm heading in the right direction here.

days

When I was in New York last weekend, I went to MoMA with a friend and though the Matisse show was a little too crowded and a little too academic to truly comprehend amid the people and my restless mind (the people were just so good looking! And so well dressed! I couldn't stop looking at them instead of the art and the beautifully curated show!), the new Bruce Nauman piece Days, made for the 2009 Venice Biennale, blew me away.

From each of the hanging panels, a different person's voice recited the days of the week (with some misses and confusion) and the cacophony and the specificity of voices as you walked down the long room washed over me. It is really an incredible piece and one you cannot even begin to understand through photographs or description. We can talk about what it means--passing time, systems, our daily lives, but it's nothing without experiencing the piece.

I had a drink with my friend Perry that night and in my excitement about relating this experience, encouraged him to go see it himself. He has since written the most amazing fake interview with Bruce Nauman with some really excellent insights about the work and probably the best sense you'll get without seeing it yourself. Some of my favorite excerpts:

PG: There are a lot of art historical references going on in Days. Can you talk about a few?

BN: I’d rather not get into that.

...

PG: Is aggression something you value in your work.

BN: Well, I’ve never gone for art that is limp-wristed and mousy. I want to make assertive pieces that stand on their own and that stand up to the viewer. Let’s not forget that viewers of works of art have tremendous power. For one – they think.

Read the whole thing here (Perry, you are a genius) and go see the piece (only up at MoMA until August 23)! Yay for good artwork.

doing a good job

I'm feeling a little unnerved lately because I'm not sure I'm doing a good job. I've received positive feedback, but I don't quite feel competent or on the level of the rest of my team, which is hard. Of course, no one expects me to be--I've been at this only 7 weeks--but still, I hate this feeling. These situations are generally good for me--they're a kick in the butt to get better, do it faster, more carefully, smarter.

We all like the feeling of competence and in work and school, I generally find it easily. But the most transformational moments have been those times where something or, usually someone, has challenged me, saying what you're doing is not enough. In 6th grade, my math teacher refused to let me pass the buck. She told me, and she told my parents when I started struggling with the more thought-intensive (as opposed to transactional) word problems, "She's better than this." It was her belief in me and refusla to let me slide that pushed me forward significantly. In high school, I had two very influential history teachers, one in art history (who largely determined the initial arc of my academic and professional interests), and one in 20th century american history. Both pushed my writing, pushed my logic--you're better than this--and made my thinking, my vision, and my articulation deeper, sharper, and better grounded. Part of it was just the administration of bad grades (or worse than I was used to receiving), part of it was the subsequents discussions with them about how to move forward.

The ex, too, was instrumental in pushing me this way, particularly in logic and rationality (which I still choose to use intermittently, or as it suits me). "You're better than this." My intelligence was one of the things he did believe in and value about me, and he pushed me to think more clearly, cover the logical holes, and release emotion as much as possible (which, often, is not possible).

I'm beginning to feel like this experience, too, will push me forward, but this time, from my own momentum.

saturday morning happy

A day stretched before me...I think it's harder to fill it when you don't quite know where you're going.

There are things I need to do...but I don't quite want to do them. I've been sort of bouncing off of people lately, letting them set the direction for me, and I need to come back to the center.

One of my first Storypeople encounters was with the story Center on Wheels:

 I spent a long time trying to find my center until I looked closely one night & found it had wheels & moved easily in the slightest breeze, so now I spend less time sitting and more time sailing.

I found it during a time where I really felt lost and like I was grasping and it's been hanging in my home since. I think it's a bit of an apt description of how I felt then and a bit how I feel now, though with age and experience, I am more self-aware and self-monitoring.

One of the most important qualities for me in a relationship is to be with someone who grounds me. Who takes that sailling center and gives it legs and roots.

However, I also must way to center myself when unmoored. There have been a lot of ways I've accomplished that over the years, yoga and exercise among the most predominant. I am a happier and better version of myself when I am active. The other is, of course, long running relaitonship with people I care about. The conversations, phone calls, meals shared, evenings on the couch, with people who've known me for years--or even those people who have known me only a short time but know me nonetheless--remind me, oh yes, this is who I am, this is where I come from.

It's a little harder for me to do this all right now given my lifestyle and the difficulty of establishing routines. It will be interesting to see what happens when I return to Boston and some semblance of stability--at least for a year, before I pick up and move on again.

This is not really the stuff of saturday morning happy, so I leave you with this: today I celebrate newspapers in print, sunny days, friends who ask the hard questions, and, hell, why not, puppies.

doing something

Last night I saw this:

Which turned into this:

With this favorite person and favorite things (cheese, bread, fig jam, french macaroons, wine):

To hear this conductor perform Berstein, Argentinian flirtation songs, and Ravel's Bolero:

It was completely magical. The sunset over the hills, the twilight settling over the Hollywood sign and the Bowl, the crowds of people, young and old, before us, the good food (oh the figs!), the music, the music, the music.

Oh summer nights with those I love doing things that are awesome. Sometimes we get so caught up we forget to go out and take advantage of what is available to us. We have so much to gain from experiencing this world, from breaking our routines and our every day. We see anew, we are inspired, we just are conscious of our joy, and our appreciation.

So happy.

audio signals

I'm sitting at a restaurant in Santa Monica, supposed to be editing "the model," and I just can't! They keep playing my favorite songs, old school style! Into the Mystic, For What It's Worth, Stand By Me...how can I keep working when the world is telling me to stop and start enjoying the music?! I can do this tomorrow morning...now is time for relaxation and starting to let it all gooooooooo.


UPDATE: Really, The Beatles Oh! Darling? Yes!!!!!!! "When you told me...you don't need me anymore, you know I nearly broke down and cried..." yesssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss. Friday night just started getting really good.

vision of an integrated future

Tonight I am thinking about how much I would love to be home, cooking, preparing a meal for a group of people I love.

I have a vision for the future: Sunday dinners, my own personal sabbath meals, bi-weekly, surrounded by the people I love.

I have long loved a good dinner party and like to plan the menu, prepare the feast and the table (a much better festive cook than daily one), invite friends and family, play the hostess. I am sad that I am not able to do this at all given the sad state of my current lifestyle and also, as many of you well know, the sad state of my Boston kitchen (the bitchen).

I have also long felt bolstered, supported, and most happy when I am surrounded by those that I love, and not just my nuclear family, but a diverse and exciting group of friends from multiple areas of life. I've never particularly been good at integrating these group of friends, and this is something I am really working on for the joy experieced not only multiplies, it becomes exponentially incremented. It's happening, day by day; I can actually feel it building, congealing--it is so cool! (And I wonder, if in part, it is due to the fact that the single greatest isolating force in my life is now gone--we can all share in the love now people.)

It all boils down to this: a rotating cast of new and old friends from various backgrounds, experience, and friendship tenure, a large table, good food, multiple bottles of wine. The results are 100% predictable: good conversation, good laughs, a little intensity, and truly a joyful Sunday eve. This is the life I want to create for myself, and hopefully with my partner.

While I likely won't repeat my parents' experiment of a group or dual-family home, I do want life to extend beyond the nuclear family, and have that life extend into my home. And I now more than ever understand what their goals were. I want my children to feel comfortable with adults, to have a seat at the table. I want my friends and family to really know each other. I want to live life alongside the people I love, not just with short visits interspersed in spare moments. I want to extend and support the ecosystem of such incredible individuals that has grown around me. With each other, we are stronger; with each other, we exponentiate our joy and our strength.

People, just you wait. This is going to be great.

a purpose-driven life

A good friend just sent me the Clay Christensen article, "How Will You Measure Your Life," an adaptation of his talk to HBS's 2010 graduating MBA class published in Harvard Business Review.

Christensen's theory dovetails nicely with my own goals and processes this summer. Though I've been a little slack in the past two weeks, writing here is my meditation on how to create meaning and purpose in my own life, how to find inspiration, and how to realize it.

It is my attempt to determine my own priorities, and maybe even my own principles. Principles is something I've always been soft on (though maybe, it's been my principle to be soft on principles, or perhaps, rather, contextual on principles; this of course leads me to one of my greatest fears--that I would not have stood up for the injustices in WWII, and in fact do not stand up strongly enough against injustice today, but that, again, is for another day; it's something I do not quite know how to deal with yet).

The article is definitely worth a read (and please, if you've read David Brooks's NYT Op-Ed about it, don't be deterred and please make sure to read the source. Brooks creates a false dichotomy between two methodologies of a considered life).

It also reminded me of something I've been meaning to post for quite some time: a beautiful animation of what motivates us. Shockingly (and sorry to ruin the ending, but hopefully you already knowthis), it turns out, as human beings, we are not motivated by profit, but by purpose. Let's realign around that--let's do things that matter.

info-graphic of a booty call

I love love love info graphics. This is not a particularly good one but too funny not to post.

 

I'd like to see the three-dimensional view.

Also, inspired right now to think of a show on info-graphics. It must exist right? How could someone not do something with what the NYT is producing now, not to mention Edward Tufte. Interesting to think of all this in conjunction with my current professional powerpoint activities.

via a great blog just shared with me by my very unique friend John: barking up the wrong tree -- a sort of receptacle for all sorts of cool new studies.

saturday morning happy (empire state of mind)

Took a break from the introspection to have the perfect New York weekend. I didn't even open my laptop after 3pm Friday.

Between all that laughing and crying, I'm sure I grew more than a little hair on my butt (a now 15-year-old joke that does not get old), but it is worth it worth it to have these times: dancing with the old ladies and 10 year old boys (and man did one take over the dance floor), meeting friends of friends, sitting outside in the sun at Morandi's, champagne in the morning (and the afternoon...and maybe the evening), goodbyes, hellos, hugs, gossip, getting down to it, leafy West Village, being real grown ups but still laughing like kids, oysters and artisinal cocktails, MoMA, seeing New York anew.

When I lived in New York, I never understood why people talked about the crazy energy of the city. It was just so ingrained in my everyday. Returning now--the first time since January--I suddenly felt it. I was so excited as I landed, butterflies in my stomach, and everywhere I went, I marveled at the city. New York is not known as an architecture city but I couldn't stop exclaiming over the details on the 19th and 20th century buildings, the brownstone blocks, the gilded domes only visible from some angles. But more than the architecture--the people! The most astonishing, beautiful, and wacky people. Some trying to impress everyone else, others who just couldn't give a rat's ass. I just could stop looking. Only in New York...

I rescind my condemnation of you New York. I don't know that I'll ever live in your prickly embrace again but I do love to visit and you know, I know better now than to say never...

These photos surprised me in my inbox this morning. Caught appreciating the city twilight after Magali's lovely lovely bridal tea...

here's looking at you, kid

New specs! Thank you good times insurance. What do you think? I was trying to go for a good blend of hip and professional: hipprofesh or hipressional if you will.

(Though I feel slightly guilty taking advantage of this policy during the only 11 week internship, I sort of justify it given that the last great pair of glasses I got, I lost in consulting recruiting. It's sort of like it all maybe evens out. Net-net)

my brother where art thou

Tonight I celebrate my brother. I am so so happy to have him come back to the United States this year. Already planning sibling bonding for the fall.

I would not be who I am without his input, influence, and love.

soul food

Perfect end to the weekend: beach, volleyball, friends, blueberry peach cobbler. Yum.

spoiled

Though the hours are bad, I think I still am luckier than most. I fly first class, I move quickly through the airport, I stay at a luxury hotel, I eat good, fairly healthy food in a city I like and even have people around I love if I ever have time to see them.

I must remember this bounty though, since I've started noticing signs of being spoiled, even in just the few short weeks I've been working. Food is bought and wasted, or just tasted. First class becomes the norm; economy scorned. When everything is covered, you begin to not appreciate anything at all.

It is a side effect of the job and manifests in all sorts of ways. As I left work on Friday, my colleagues left a mess in the room. I inquired, they said, don't worry about it; it will be cleaned up. Yes, indeed, but by whom? Are we so privileged that we have no concern about the mess we leave? On Thursday we changed flights to take a later one and were therefore in middle seats in coach. Not a big deal (though significantly more difficult to work), but the norm of first class has already set in, and I felt a twinge directed toward my seatmates. This is not ok.

During my first days on the job, one of my colleagues was shockingly honest about what it feels like to work for the company--about how it lends a special feeling of privilege, honor, exclusivity, to know you're an employee there. A confidence or secret code that inspires your walk through office corridors or down the city street. This shocked me at the time--not so much because of the sentiment, but because he voiced it. It's completely true, of course, and is the benefit of being part of any elite organization, association, etc. The struggle is in suppressing that, to push down the entitlement, to not take the privilege for granted. I mean, it's just a job, afterall, and, in my mind, a painful one at that. Though I'm susceptible to external validation, I've worked hard in the past not to define myself by my workplace, at least not wholly (this is actually worth a whole other post).

This feeling of exception may (and I say may because I honestly don't know) be ok as long as it is kept in check. From the first day of orientation there was the decree: treat well the hotel staff, the support admin staff at the company, the airline, your fellow passengers, etc. The very fact that it has to be repeated, and repeated so often, is concerning. Does this position inspire such deep-felt privilege that you begin to expect others to bow, to serve; that you begin to expect what is not yours deserved?

I have some snobbish tendencies, but I have worked (and been worked on) my entire life to remember service and, above all, gratitude. Real, heartfelt gratitude; not the pleasantries and casual thanks. No thank you, please give me my coach seats back, please make me pay my own way. I will appreciate what is offered now, but please make it just that--appreciate, not expect or take for granted.

UPDATE: Flying Sunday gave me a whole new perspective on this. Whoa nelly, I love me that first class, priority access, etc., etc. Traveling like a normal person is stresssssssssfuuuuuuuuuuulllllllllllllll.

saturday morning happy

It is far past morning, but I didn't exactly experience Saturday morning happy this week. Instead, a sort of pervasive melancholia. I'm glad to be going to the company of old, good friends tomorrow. Home-cooked food, the ladies, a bottle of wine--these are all things that are soul-refreshing, particularly as I start the new week.

These gray days are not common to me, but they are much more so when I feel alone, as I do in this city (is the hotel even more home now?). It's part of my perosnality to get pulled up and out by others and by shared experiences. I've gotten better about doing things myself--museums, movies, etc., but on gray days like this, I become paralyzed. I can't do anything and end up in a cycle of further paralyzation and subtle self-loathing (I am not one to get caught in the downward spiral, but I am never happy with myself when I spend a day like I did today).

I pulled myself up, which I think is reason enough for Saturday morning happy, but there still are other things to remember to celebrate today:

Lightning storms/city on fire, showers as a fresh start (even at 8PM), Imogen Heap, love and affection from those who are far away, tenderness in the face of adversity, knowledge of self.

I feel it now, but I must always hold it close:

There are days I drop words of comfort on myself like falling rain & remember it is enough to be taken care of by myself.

addicted to love

I was 20 years old when I first experienced the narcotic crazy-making effects of love. I was deeply ensconced in a great, easy, supportive partnership with an amazing man--someone who loved me with all his heart. He was my first love, my high school boyfriend, and I truly believed I would be with him the rest of my life. The summer I was 20, we were counselors together at the camp I attended as a child, and someone else caught my eye and in fact, totally caught me up. Drama ensued, ending in a break of the relationship and a reshifting. It was terrible. Truly truly selfish, terrible behavior on my part. The two men were co-counselors. Can you even imagine? It was a drama that rocked all of our worlds yet I was on a trajectory I couldn't stop.

In the midst of it all, I received counseling from many, perhaps most importantly my mother. She told me: attraction to someone new is like a drug, it's addictive. You just want more and it's hard to detach yourself from the situation. Take a step back, don't do this. Reign it in.

Being 20, and being caught up, I couldn't. It was addictive being around this person--as much about the way it made me feel as any of his intrinsic qualities (which I learned later, were quite limited). In the aftermath, my mother wouldn't speak with me for weeks and refused to let me bring the new beau home. Though she has long put it behind her, I'm not sure I've ever forgiven myself for how I acted that summer.

Each of the major loves in my life hence, plus some of the minor ones, has been characterized by early intensity. Part of it is the nature of the beast--all of us want that connection--but part of it is me. I carried this cartoon (from The Economist, I believe) with me for years, hanging it in each new place I moved, as a reminder to myself of the dizzying effects of falling in love--both positive and negative. For a long time, it was mostly humorous to me.

I create and am drawn to intensity, hopefully usually of the positive variety, but as with anything, also of the dramatic or damaging variety. I'm not interested in casual (this year was the first time I ever successfully dated casually...and even then it was mostly a device) and moreover, I tend to advance situations...patience is not a virtue I possess in abundance. Let's get on with it and really get to know each other--let's get down to it. Let's try it out, even if I don't know the end-state.

Recently, though, the cartoon and recent articles describing the narcotic effects of romantic love have taken on a more sobering effect. I'm more suspicious of the quick burn, particularly of its acceleration to burnout. Let's figure it out--let's not waste our time, let's have transparency (the dance around it is of course always fun, but really, for me, for a limited time), but let's also keep the drama out. Steady now.

Plus, how do you ever recover from the heady days of early euphoria once that intensity fades? Of course, then the love is much more multi-faceted, more complex, far deeper, and those depths are equally intriguing. But I wonder sometimes if I spent five years with the ex trying to recover that unbelievable joy and intensity experienced in our first month. I made him promise to marry me on what, week 2 or 3, completely without guile? Sometimes you just know...but sometimes, you are mistaken. I don't want to make that same mistake again.

An excerpt on the addictive effects of love from The Economist article of the above cartoon:

The results were surprising. For a start, a relatively small area of the human brain is active in love, compared with that involved in, say, ordinary friendship. “It is fascinating to reflect”, the pair conclude, “that the face that launched a thousand ships should have done so through such a limited expanse of cortex.” The second surprise was that the brain areas active in love are different from the areas activated in other emotional states, such as fear and anger. Parts of the brain that are love-bitten include the one responsible for gut feelings, and the ones which generate the euphoria induced by drugs such as cocaine. So the brains of people deeply in love do not look like those of people experiencing strong emotions, but instead like those of people snorting coke. Love, in other words, uses the neural mechanisms that are activated during the process of addiction. “We are literally addicted to love,” Dr Young observes.

Another from a great WSJ article on the physical and mental effects of  love (many of you will have read this before, I sent it out Valentine's Day in 2007; worth a reread even then, since it also has good advice on how to maintain some of those euphoric feelings of romantic love).

Compared with the neutral photos, a lover's picture triggers the dopamine system in the brain -- the same system associated with pleasure and addiction. But the brain images of those scorned in love also give us clues as to why the breakdown of a relationship can trigger serious health problems. The subjects dealing with failed relationships showed activity in the dopamine system -- suggesting they maintained intense feelings for their loved one. But they also showed activity in brain regions associated with risk taking, controlling anger and obsessive compulsive problems. Notably, the scans showed activity in one part of the brain linked with physical pain.

the long night

Last night I had a date with the dancefloor. I have to say, it was magical.

And then this happened:

That's Lil' John (who I instead called Little John all day today, oops; hey, I didn't even know who he was until a month ago). He is rapping at the club in the hotel. Where I was staying and dancing. He was also pouring Grey Goose into people's mouths. I did not participate in that.

The club crowd was unbelievable--I could not keep my eyes focused all night because of the characters around--good bad and ugly. There were two particular older blode women that really got to me. Hollywood. [also Puck, from Glee, some very tall basketball players, some other rapper, you know my facility with pop culture]

Even with the celebrity sightings and unexpected Rihanna after-party, the dancing took the night.

Though I've always loved to dance, it was seldom practiced for a few years there. Inhibited and not knowing exactly how I wanted to conduct my life, dancing became one of those things that was sidelined and neglected, particularly given my partner and lifestyle during these years. There were a few moments of extreme catharsis through dancing mixed in there (joy in Florida with Caitlin, Magali, and Anne--coming together after some tough conversations; crying in the San Francisco dive bar a few summers back on the madonnahotties trip to NoCal; sadly, all that difficulty surrounding the ex. I should have known).

Now I dance for joy. Because of the long lapse, I want to dance often and freely to experience this joy. I get the itch if it's been too long and anyone who has spent any significant time with me will know it's hard for me to hear music and not start tapping and shaking. The hands go up, the hips start shaking.

Dancing can be potentially the best foreplay, but it can also just be pure unadulterated fun, especially when you're dancing with someone who knows what they're doing.

I had a great partner last night.

the kiss of ground

As the plane surfed over the city tonight, I couldn't help but think of that first touch of ground like a first kiss...a little awkward, with so much anticipation and approach.

I don't know if I'll ever be able to fly the same way again.

wash away all of my tears

This makes my insides feel funny. It is so beautiful--so many allusions, so much surrender, so much tenderness.
 


Thank you, David Rager, who always has impeccable taste. DRage is going to get more shout-outs on this blog than anyone/thing else at this rate.

Interestingly (to me at least), before starting to write here, I was resolutely uninterested in a lot of video content, even though I know this is where the world is heading. People would always send me videos and I would be like, eh, I am not interested in watching that. I think video content preferences are so unique--and because video requires a time investment that print does not, they come out more strongly. I wonder how this will affect marketing and content production in the future, or the ways it already has. Or maybe my analysis of the situation is wrong, or generational. Maybe other people are more omnivorous video consumers.

Regarding viewing now, I've becoming more adventurous and interested, by baby steps. It always helps me to know the source is good--I know DRage and a few others will always serve me well.

art in the morning

There's been a big rush of public art--both permanent, temporary, and completely ephemeral--in the past decade, likely the biggest explosion since the large metal sculpture that proliferated starting in the 1960s and last through the early '80s. Much of this new guard is good and it used to be what excited me most in contempoary art--the site specificity, the opportunity for unique engagement outside of the whitebox, the potential unexpectedness. Though my perspective has changed now (perhaps because of the proliferation?), really good pieces are still environment and vision-changing.*

I drive past this piece often while in LA and I just love it. I love it in the morning and I love it at night. It's hard to keep driving straight as I crane my head to catch it from multiple angles. It is among the most outstanding pieces I've seen.

Chris Burden (of shoot yourself fame)
Urban Light, 2008
202 restored cast iron antique street lamps, 320 1/2 x 686 1/2 x 704 1/2 in.
The Gordon Family Foundation's gift to "Transformation: The LACMA Campaign"

*I need to write a whole post on MIT's amazing job Percent for Art program, where a percent (1-3%, I believe) of the budget for any new building is put toward a new site-specific commission for the Institute's public art collection. New pieces by Cai Guo-Jiang (for Sloan!), Anish Kapoor (Stata Center), and Richard Fleischner (Media Lab) will be unveiled this fall. YAY! There's much to say here--there are a few existing pieces I just love (hello Sol Lewitt) and am paritcularly excited about the new Cai piece (such a good conception of public space and how the piece can change over time)--but it will wait.

too much?

When you're most introspective, self-reflecting friend writes this and this blog:

perhaps tending towards too much self-assessment and reflection (because yes, there is such a thing), but to those of us who tend towards the same thing, it's like a guilty pleasure. like my bag of doritos in the middle of day.

...maybe you've gone too far. Let's keep this healthy, kids. A little lightness all around. Doritos are bad for everyone. (Speaking of which, I ate one bite of a churro last night that literally tasted like chemicals. Ew, disgusting. I couldn't get the taste out of my mouth for hours. So not only was I working late on stupid slides, listening to my team nit-pick one thing after another, I had the taste of chemical donut in my mouth. Gross.)

Also, the spirit of awesomeness, let's all take an afternoon break to get up and dance to this song:



It's my song of the summer--for running, driving, dancing, and any other sort of activity...

[Also, um, her dancing, is...and awesome]

Afternoon snacking

I've been eating entirely too much but I couldn't resist this: cukes,
jicama, and mango with lime, salt, and spice. Yum.

dance-floor maniacs, architecture love, and a boat that floats

Miami was a quick trip, but had some inspiring moments.

I made a boat. Or, more accurately, I decorated a boat, the good ship The Backpack [go team Dora the Explorer]) . You like those pink flags, I know you do.


Our baby looks good coming and going.

Mostly, this: I fell in love with a parking structure:

1111 Lincoln Road

Hezog & de Meuron

Mixed use parking structure, retail, event space (genius way to get around zoning laws). 

All muscle, no skin. A parking sculpture.

Dying to meet the developer Robert Wennett.

 

 

 

 

After the love affair, I had a proper Miami evening: the W pool bar (downpour, hanging with the Israeli mafia) and then the old classic Mynt with dance party seriously underway. I was up on the couches. We headed up to the DJ booth. There may have been some booties shakin'.

 Windswept, waiting for Lebron.

At 4:30, I looked at my watch. Uh oh, supposed to be at the airport in 1 hour. Still at the club. Have no shoes on.

Hop in a cab, bust a move back to the Ritz, quick change, back to waiting cab, bust a move to MIA. Make flight, pass out in first class (totally don't belong). Awake surrounded by children. Feel like a crack whore, last night's makeup down my cheeks. Still smelling smoky.

Rental car in San Diego, refuse to take off sunglasses, perpetuate cracked out exterior, straight to grandmother's--you look like hell! (or, rather, politely, you look exhausted). Shower, change, lie down 5 minutes, socialize. Argh. Funeral, socialize, Mormons. Family, eat, wild turkeys (not Wild Turkey, I wish, remember, Mormons), cousins, mausoleum so white. Succulent garden for Mary and Jesus. Compound, eat, pregnant cousins!, boulders, inland views, California I think I love you. Back, crash, New Yorker fiction, Friday Night Lights (any tears left?), quiet in my grandmother's house my grandfather built. Quiet quiet quiet. Sleep. Finally.

If that's a work event, this place might just be ok...

(nope, nope, still not ok, even if there are some like-minded dancefloor maniacs)

playing the edge of sentimentality

I read Postsecret every Sunday (apparently Sunday is my day of sentimentality...). My brother first initiated me into the club and often I find what's posted cloying, or just plain uninteresting: our banal secrets. But sometimes I find what people share inspiring and uplifting and true. As the project has become more and more of a pheonomenon, I think it's become less powerful, in a way. Or perhaps, in another way, it has become more so--look at this intense and widespread need to connect and share, to free ourselves of our burden.

Anyway, this past week, this one got me:

Isn't this what we all wonder about former loves, even as the memories slip from pain to past? Maybe more interesting: what recalls you to me, but has no meaning to you? How do we find ourselves in such symmetry/assymetry? Was it always a step on/a step off all along? Oh, to understand how the heart ticks...

the target list

Autumn targets:

• Emily Rafferty (President, Metropolitan Museum of Art; Met lifer)
• Thomas Krens (former Director, Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum, NY; current senior advisor Guggenhim Abu Dhabi; expansionist extraordinaire)
• Jeffrey Deitch (Director, LA MOCA; former downtown gallerist monopolist)
• Maddy Briggs (Principal, Genzler; let's explore this architecture thing)
• Eli Broad or Joanne Heyler (Director, Broad Art Foundation) -- first one scheduled! (August 7)
• Robert Wennett (Developer, 1111 Lincoln Rd.--photos coming later today)
• Strategy, Lincoln Center

One down...let's see how many others I can convince to meet with me. Some heavy hitters here.

Any additions welcome. Let's set some goals people! Let's see what's out there.

sunday evening center

Flying out again tomorrow morning and feeling free.

Looking forward and looking back, wistful, but settled. Clarity gives me peace so that my mind is not so forward focused, but can work hard to evaluate the present and prepare and be open for what comes next. I get distracted by sideways tangents and inventions of the future world, but there is nothing sure in my life right now so better focus on what is at hand.

It is not always easy for me to be alone like this, but it is something that makes me strong and focused. It is not easy for me to always establish a routine, but it's what makes me centered and at peace. This week: back to the regular workouts, establish that discipline. Keep myself sharp. Don't let this slide, Rya. This is an opportunity.

There are big changes afoot. I don't know what they are, but I sense they are coming, and I sense this is all part of my preparation. I must make sure not to disappoint. I will see through what I have started.

saturday morning happy

More like Saturday afternoon happy, brought to you and to me via my brother JtotheCtotheB.

In response to my current gchat status message, one of my favorites of all time (I know, Storypeople is a theme...I'll start finding other sources of inspiration...maybe):

i read once that the ancient egyptians had fifty words for sand & the eskimos had a hundred words for snow. i wish i had a thousand words for love, but all that comes to mind is the way you move against me while you sleep & there are no words for that.

He sent me this, a treatise on Eskimo words for snow, and this:

have I explained turkish has two words for love? sevgi and aşk? and that sevgi is what you have for your family and that aşk is like the pure romantic love? (Also the love Sufis have for God, go figure) Anyway, aşk can only last three years I think and then afterwards fades to sevgi. The grammar is even interesting. I love you (also I like you) is "Seni seviyorum" which is the same way you would say "I like soccer" (Futbolu seviyorum). With aşk though, its different. Its not usually said to someone, but about how you feel about someone. You say "aşık oldum" or literally "I became in love". Instead of in the present tense, its already in the past. It's already something that happened.

I always love love love how language changes meaning. Two favorite parts of literature, courtesy of Milan Kundera: the description of the difference between compassion in English and its closest Hungarian synonym, which is closer to "co-feeling" in The Unbearable Lightness of Being; the unpacking of "nostalgia" in Ignorance.


In response to who knows what since Jewel is not exactly my favorite, but still this video is totally awesome.

Undercover Karaoke with Jewel from Jewel

I may have teared.