A timely discovery

I could not have asked for a more timely discovery than happening upon the website 'Everything is a Remix.' It's a video series, of which there are currently three, but there's a fourth on the way. It explains the questions I asked in my recent post (Good Artists Borrow, Great Artists Steal), about 1,000 better than I could.

It examines how creativity does not occur in a vacuum, but how all creative works and inventions copy, borrow, outright steal, or just combine previous ideas.

I was continually amazed and impressed by the series, but one of the bits that stood out to me was this:

"Hunter S. Thompson got started by re-typing "The Great Gatsby" just to get the feel of writing a great novel."

Wow!

Anyways, you gotta watch these, they're absolutely fascinating.

http://www.everythingisaremix.info/watch-the-series/

I would not be a fit mother. AKA: The Butter Incident

I have spent a lifetime wondering WHY women actually CHOOSE to let a parasitic being grow in their belly for nine months, expel itself via a life-threatening, bloody and violent ordeal, spend years in constant slavery to its every basic need, including regularly wiping liquified feces from its rear, only to have the thing get more mouthy as it gets taller, and eventually repay your incredible sacrifice by resenting you and blaming you for all of its personal problems before it leaves you.

The only two times I can see this experience as being somewhat rewarding are 1.) when they're between about 3-5 and they're being cute, and 2.) The photo op if/when they graduate college.

Despite my lifelong confusion about other's desire to procreate, as I get older (and the fertility window gets smaller) I occasionally.... rarely... see some cute kid and feel a teeny, tiny little microscopic pang of.... something. Not sure what. Indigestion? Fear? Loathing? Desire? Jealousy? A little pre-programmed line of code in my monkey DNA that says "go home right now and have unprotected sex"?

Since I have yet to experience a mini-human exploding out of my nether regions, I cannot fully comprehend motherhood. Once in a while, it seems like a good idea in a dreamy, far-off, romanticized kind of way.

Then, my dogs eats an entire stick of butter and I am reminded that I am not a fit parent to animals, never mind potential human beings.

I love my dogs. I love most animals in general. I believe that if you CHOOSE to become a pet parent, then you owe the animal(s) the best care you can possibly provide. It annoys me when I hear people complaining about having to take their dog to the vet and that it cost them a whole HUNDRED dollars or whatever. What did you think would happen if you got a pet? Sometimes a pet will get sick or hurt, or need daily medication, or some kind of special accommodation. Dogs in particular need training, daily exercise, they need to go outside several times a day, they need attention and decent food and toys to keep them occupied. If you aren't willing to provide all those things, then you shouldn't get a pet of your own.

I really do try to be a good pet parent. I do. But sometimes I'm negligent, and do stupid things like leave a whole stick of butter out in a place they can reach.

I'm not sure WHICH dog ate the butter, or if it was a joint effort. I'm hoping that they won't get diarrhea or start puking, but that might be wishful thinking. I will consider myself lucky if I don't wake up in the middle of the night to find shit everywhere. If it misses all carpet and fabrics entirely, I will jump with joy. (Unlikely, as both cats and dogs seem to strongly prefer expelling bodily fluids on soft surfaces.)

Worst case is that the dog(s) could get very sick from the butter... pancreatis. I don't think this will happen as they are both fairly large dogs, about 60 lbs, but you never know.

At least I'm lucky that it was an organic material, not something like equine de-wormer. I'm sick of giving the Animal Poison Control Hotline $60 per call.

Tomorrow I am returning to college after a six-year hiatus and I am not going to be happy if my beasts keep me up all my night with their butter shits.

I worry so much about my "kids" and they're "just dogs". I don't see how I could possibly handle being a parent of another human being.

Good artists borrow, great artists steal

"Good artists borrow, great artists steal." - (No definitive attribution; some refence T.S. Eliot, or Picasso.)

"There is nothing new under the sun" ( phrase adapted from the Book of Ecclesiastes 1:9)

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These phrases are ubiquitous, and seem irrefutable and wise.

What is an artist to do?

And by artist, I mean anyone who strives to create. Whether it be written words or the visual arts. It doesn't have to be high literature or fine art. Someone who wants to start a personal finance blog is in as much of a creative pickle as someone who wants to illustrate a children's book. One has to create something.

I think creating is the easy part. Creating something, anything, can flow easily for many with a little practice. Brainstorming is creative. Freewriting is creative. Sketching is creative. Creativity can be coaxed along with a little encouragement, whether it's in the form of praise, or prompts, or even "mind-expanding" stimulants like alcohol or drugs.

Craft is more difficult (the skill set that makes it good, or passable - whether it be writing skills, drawing skills, acting skills, etc.). But craft also improves with practice. Craft can be taught.

The most difficult aspect of creating is originality. One can practice vomiting out some creative content, and one can also work to hone the craft of one's expulsion. But is it all just regurgitation?

If all artists borrow or steal, if there is nothing new under the sun, then are we really "creating"? Or are we just recycling?

"No man is an island." - John Donne

The irrefutable truth is that no one can fully escape the influence of society upon one's "art", whatever the art form may be. We have all had a certain upbringing, we have had a certain kind of schooling and education, we have certain social mores installed in our brains. We are influenced by media, by what we read, by how others behave around us. We come to the table with a certain set of pre-installed beliefs about what our creations "should" be like. We would all like to think that we are free beings without own wonderfully independent and creative thoughts, but in reality, we are thinking in a cage. We can only create with the limited palette we bring to the canvas.

No one like that idea. We want to think we are independent thinkers. And we like to point to other independent thinkers as examples of how genius can override the status quo. But there are severe limitations to how far one can push the envelope. For example, Jackson Pollack would NOT have been recognized as an "artist" if he had existed in the 16th century alongside Michelangelo and Da Vinci. The idea that paint splatters constituted art just WOULDN'T fly then.

The other point I'm trying to make is that, had Jackson Pollack been alive during that time, he wouldn't have even had the IDEA to present paint splatters as art.

"If I have seen further it is only by standing on the shoulders of giants. " -Isaac Newton

Modern art was a progression. It began when a few daring artists actually left noticeable brushstrokes. Artists became more and more daring; Picasso, Pollack. Artists who drew a single line on a canvas. Artists who copied ads and called it pop art. (I do love Warhol, by the way.) When the minimalist extremes of visual art were exhausted, artists began to extend beyond the canvas; artists like Marina Abramovic who used herself in an installation, where she invited spectators to use items on a table to manipulate her body. One of those items included a gun.

I would speculate that a performance artist like Abramovic would not have been "accepted" or displayed even back in the earlier part of the 20th century, when it seemed that the boundries of "what is art" were beginning to be constantly explored. It was too early, and the boundries of static visual art were not yet exhausted. So it would seem to me that artists who wish to be truly original can only push so far, and must be careful to go only so far as just beyond the already accepted perimeter. If they succeed in going just so far, they will be heralded as original, as genius. If they fall short of the boundry, too far within the safety zone of "it's already been done", then they're a hack; if they go too far outside the accepted perimeter, they will be regarded as a freak, as a weirdo, as a bad artist, perhaps disgusting or vulgar. They may also be regarded as a hack for trying to pass off their "weird" work as "art."

It seems to me that artists in the previous centuries did not have to worry about such things. They only had to worry about being good at their craft. They only had to worry about creating things that were beautiful. They did not have to also worry about being original.

Does an artist have to be original to be successful? Yes and no.

There are many writers and artists and other creative people who aren't making anything ground-breakingly different, yet are successful. They fall into a genre. They produce an expected kind of content. It follows a formula or a pattern or contains enough of the right kind of material to appeal to the right kind of audience. And no matter the genre, there is always a demand for more new content. It is just different enough to be considered an original, stand-alone work, even though it doesn't introduce any new concepts, newly coined phrases, new kinds of visual ideas.

It's like when famous clothing designers decide that this fall's line is going to be 70's inspired. And what's interesting is that the designers seem to be working arm-in-arm. They all come out with things of roughly the same kind of theme at the same time.

So, for people who are trying to make a go at being creative; how important is it REALLY that we be "original?" For those of us who just want to follow our passion and make stuff while also making a living off it, for those of us who don't delude ourselves into thinking we're going to be Pulitzer Prize winners or Oscar winners.... should we even really be that concerned about originality?

Should we just go ahead and creatively regurgitate, and only worry about originality in as far as we don't tread on other's copyright?

I am constantly amazed at the amount of "borrowing" or perhaps outright stealing that goes on in fiction. I don't purport myself to be the most widely read person and yet I often identify authors who seem to steal other modern writer's ideas. I am also surprised how entire genres of music seem to pop up overnight who seem to be outright copies of other bands.

No one else seems all that concerned about how their art imitates others. So maybe I shouldn't be either?

Anytime I create anything, when I review it I realize immediately who/what influenced it. I think "this is too much like X writer" or "this drawing is a rip-off of X artist". If I didn't consciously recognize who my influences who, would I be less guilty? If I was more arrogant, would it matter? For the reasons I've already argued, is it even really possible to create something entirely new? I've already acknowledged that creativity cant' happen in a vacuum, so should I just regurgitate what comes naturally and accept it?

"You have to honor your vomit." - Lady Gaga

You ungrateful son of a bitch

I was feeling pretty sorry for myself today. I had an appointment at the dentist, which I knew was going to be a marathon sitting. I thought I was getting five fillings done, some of which were replacements for old, decaying fillings.

Turns out I was getting four filling and one crown preparation. Ick. Since I just had a crown put on a different tooth a few months ago, I knew what it involved. (Preparing for a crown involves shaving down most of the tooth until it's just a nub ready to accept the crown cover, and also cutting away gum tissue to make room for the adhesion of a crown.) I was internally panicking a little ...about the cost as much as the procedure... and I was feeling awfully sorry for myself.

Poor me.
Why is this happening to me?

Why have I been cursed with dental problems all my life?

I do everything I'm supposed to do, and this STILL happens to me?

This is so expensive, how will I afford it?

I'm going to be paying down dental work for the rest of my life.

I'm scared.

I don't want to sit through all this.

What if I have a panic attack in the chair?

I hate getting bad news!

It seems like I am always getting horrible news about how everything is horrible!

It really sucks to be me today.

And then, I overheard a conversation one of the dentist's assistants was having on the phone.

(Note that we had a snow/ice/sleet/freezing rain storm today in our area, and apparently I was the only patient to show up in the office this particular morning. )

Dentist's Employee, on the phone: "What happened? Where ARE you? What? Oh my god, Dan. Did you call 911? You need to get off the phone with me right now and call 911. Where are you? Are you on the road or off the road? What? You lost consciousness? Oh my god. Do you know where you are? Where are you right now?"

The other employees started murmuring "he was in a car accident.... he hit his head.... lost consciousness...."

Suddenly I felt really stupid and pathetic for feeling so sorry for myself for facing a DENTAL PROCEDURE.

Things easily be a lot worse.

There's always someone out there who has it worse than you, and you don't have to look very far to find that someone.

Later that day, I was at the bar, since I had been very pious for well over a week in anticipation for my marathon dental work. I had told myself I could go out and have a few drinks once I made it through. And I did exactly that.

The bartender (who happened to be my fiance) made a comment about feeling old, simply because a former student of his was in the bar, drinking. Legally.

I scolded him. "When you're 80, you're going to look back at yourself at 35 and hate yourself for thinking you were old. You're supple and strong and healthy and free of major ailments. You are young. When you're 80 years old and wrinkly and infirm, you can complain about being old. Not before."

I was giving a speech aloud to someone that I could/should be giving myself.

I'm still young. I'm healthy. I am blessed in many, many ways.

I shouldn't complain/bitch/whine about anything.

I should wear a rubber band around my wrist and snap myself every time I complain about something. Because I don't want to be an ungrateful S.O.B.

We aren't thankful because we're happy. We're happy because we're thankful.

Be thankful for something today.

Serenity Now. Insanity Later.

I feel like there is so much going on right now, I can't even think of what to write about. I'm in a sort of mental limbo right now.

I gave notice at my job to go back to school.

I gave a three week notice. I have two more days left.

You'd think I'd be happy, but I'm just stressed. My plan for this week has been to try to keep my head low and not get involved in any messy conflicts. This has not worked well. I'm involved in many messy conflicts between customers and the family members who own the company.

It has become exceedingly clear that everyone above us has NO idea what we do, what we have to suffer through, or how we handle our aspect of their business. It has become exceedingly clear that they do not value our opinion, or think very highly of us in general.

And I should be thinking, "Who cares, I'm leaving, this won't be my problem anymore". Yet, somehow I don't feel that way.

I feel ANGRY.

I'm supposed to go out for drinks with the gang + bosses after I leave work for the last time on Friday. I don't really want to. What will I say?

If I were honest, I would say the following:

- It offends me that no one respects what we do here.

- You often cite the need for "communication", but you don't communicate anything to us, and we're the ones that need to know, since we're the liason between you and the customer. The customers expect us to know what's going on, and we're kept in the dark.

- It offends me that you never asked my opinion on anything.

- It offends me that when I take initiative to solve a pressing problem everyone else has simply ignored, you act like I'm overstepping my bounds.

- This has been the most stressful four years of my life. I have stress-related health problems I didn't have before.

- It deeply offends me that you act as though any dumbass could do this job well.

- You have no idea what my day to day struggle here entails. It's a lot harder than you perceive it to be.

- This job made me so depressed about life that at times I felt suicidal.

- I hate this job so much that I hope and pray I never have to do anything like this ever again.

- This job has made me hate people even more than I already did. That's quite a feat.

- You should tell new hires that they had better be good liars, since we have to lie through our teeth to the customers all day, every day.

- You like to think you're good to your employees, but in many ways you treat us unfairly.

- You make my job so much harder than it needs to be.

- You constantly throw us under the bus.

- There is zero upward mobility here, so I'm getting out while I still can, to seek a better life.

But. I don't want to leave on a bad note. So I will say none of that. I already feel like I wasted 4 years of my life there. I don't want to burn the bridge.

Instead, I will smile and drink heavily and try to be merry and polite.

What is bothering me right now is that I wasted four good years of my life in that place, wasted tears and brain energy, stressed out of my mind, and I won't get any CLOSURE. I won't get closure because I won't be able to tell anyone what I really think. I'll just have to smile and nod and say "BYEEEE", and I'll probably have to HUG everyone. *shudders*

There is also the pressure of re-inventing myself once I leave. For the last several years I have been blaming all of my personal flaws on my job.

Feeling depressed/anxious? It's because I'm overworked and underpaid/undervalued.

Social phobia? All of the horrible customers at my job make me leery of people in general.

Unproductive? I'm too tired and wiped out, physically and mentally, after a day on the job.

Stagnating? It's because I'm trapped in this underpaid job.

Low self-esteem? I'm just an office worker, why should I feel proud of myself?

Hating the world? It's my horrible job. The horrible lowlife customers. If I did something more meaningful, I would have greater self-worth.

Alcohol abuse? It's because I'm so stressed after work, I need something to wind down.

Fat/unfit? It's because I'm forced to sit 8 hours a day. Also my coworkers pressure me into ordering takeout with them for lunch. Yeah, that's it.

I've convinced myself over the years that all of my problems are work-related, and if I could only escape that place, I would be productive and fit and feel great about myself and the world. I would be able to stop drinking completely, and I would just enjoy being alive.

Of course, now that the deadline is looming... will I really be able to start to blossom into a different, better person two days from now?

I'm trying to be more optimistic, so..... I will answer YES. Yes, life will be better after I leave this job. Serenity now.