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...