Sometimes all it takes is a few words. Or an hour, even if it’s filled with 140-character communications, and they wind up being smart, provocative, and playful.
Last evening I hopped on Twitter, restlessly, after a long day. I was well aware that the pleasure of pondering and writing about contemporary art – my usual, on Wednesday nights – was finito. For better or worse, for now, no more Work of Art.
Fine.
Well, fine if I could pop into the Museum of Modern Art, or zip over the ocean and linger at the latest exhibit on view at the Centre Pompidou in Paris. Fabulously fine if I could cruise the gallery districts of the Left or Right Bank, or Lower Manhattan. Not so fine, as my agenda seems to be filled with art of another sort – the fine art of continued driving lessons for my teen, dinner on the table (he’s a bottomless pit), and keeping him in an endless supply of charcoal pencils, acid-free papers, blending stumps and whatever else powers our artsy, familial infrastructure.
Desirous of creative exchange, I got lucky! I stumbled into a real time hour of #artchat on Twitter. I jumped in (uninvited), and was utterly intrigued by the conversation, which did (of course) touch on Work of Art – the pros, the cons, and the pros professing their cons. The links to blogs and articles were engaging, and the hour slipped away in an experience that was not only diverting, but juicy.
Those are the surprises that delight us, aren’t they? We never know when the chance encounter may be juicy: the guy who spills his coffee on you at Starbucks, the sweet woman in the supermarket who points out the location of lentils and kidney beans, the gentleman in the dentist’s office who hands you his card after five minutes of pleasantries while waiting for his cleaning.
Pursuing passions, renewing dreams
I have a lot on my mind these days. (Don’t we all?) And no – rotating television seasons isn’t high on the list, believe me. I’m churning the details of my many jobs – official and unofficial – as my parenting role shifts into high gear again, yet with the end in sight.
Then there’s my profession – or professions, to be more accurate. I’m trying to determine what remains viable, and how to follow my passions and still make a living.
Midlife crisis?
No, not really – though I believe I recognize it when I see it, and I understand it. But my life has been about periodic assessment, which has enabled me to make continuous change. That includes letting go of some dreams and unearthing others, identifying passions and giving them their head of steam, facing aging (gracefully I hope), and equally – embracing the youth that remains. And with it, my desire for juicy.
- Do you know what floats your boat? Do you know what you want?
- Are you going through withdrawal over a guilty pleasure, a role in life that you love?
- Are you seeking your “juicy” – whatever it may involve?
Life is short
Life is precious, fragile, precarious, glorious, terrifying, and sometimes – juicy. For me, that comes in all flavors, all sorts of experiences, all manner of possibilities.
I’d like to think there is more “juicy” ahead. I don’t know how or when. But I was encouraged by the simple pleasure of that hour on Twitter, reminding me of who I am, what I do, and how much I still have to learn.
How to transform that into more – more to keep going, evolving, and move beyond surviving into thriving? TBD. But whatever is involved, I hope it’s juicy.
I think I have a good idea of what floats my boat but often feel frustrated about my lack of time to put into it; to do it with the proficiency, style and grace that I’d like. I keep trying to remind myself that there will be more time, when the kids are grown, when I retire (if I ever retire).
Juicy is what life is about! I remember when I was younger and everything had to be completed NOW!
Now older and hopefully wiser, it’s nice to see dreams that I have held on to fiercely come true, some dreams (when I look back logically) would not have served me well and died along the way. But in all this, what fills me with juicy awe, is that there is more of this come, my head is so full of thoughts and ideas, sometimes I even scare myself 🙂
That is juicy!
I love this – It is what SARK writes about and lives on the pages of her books. Juicy is what I love about live… it is full of the little moments and opportunities that are mouth watering and delightfully satisfying in themselves but also for the promise of more to come in the future if we are open to seeing and partaking!
“It” begins with a distant notion; a plaintive whisper of the heart. It comes in the flash of an epiphany or a deeper unexplainable longing that’s always been present. It is the recognition of perception; the understanding that a new idea has been born. It is embracing the dreamscape that is imagination and having the courage to go there.
For those who accept a life of self-exploration through willful acts of creation, the journey offers the ecstasy of all that is possible along with the agony of unobtainable perfection. It is a solitary road into the unknown self and offers no destination but the journey. But, for those that follow, it does lead somewhere and such a life will never be uninteresting.”
Glad you had a stimulating time exchanging chats on Twitter. What an unexpected surprise. Just when I think I know what floats my boat, I switch gears again. I am in flux these days about a lot of things and I am pulled in many viable directions, but I don’t have the luxury of trying it all. I need to choose and go with it. I like your analogy of juicy – if we wait too long, the juice may dry up. Always making me think BLW… Thanks
“If we wait too long, the juice may dry up.” I love it, Rudri!
Your use of the word “juicy” to describe your passion, your joy is just perfect – it makes me smile! I think it’s what fills you up emotionally, makes you lose track of time, and leaves you with a little bounce in your step.
For me? There isn’t any one thing. Baking is juicy. Reading a great mystery. Puttering around in my garden. Those are lovely, indulgent things lately.
Those all sound lovely, Eva. And yes, “juicy” puts some bounce in the step!
I like that you make the comparison of Twitter and bumping into someone at Starbucks. The Starbucks bump I can do, I’m good at it and find that kind of spontaneity juicy, but I have not yet been bitten by the Twitter bug.
So…I’ll keep waiting. I’m often the last to join the party. Then the last to leave. I’ll be sucking up the last of the juice apparently.
Right now, by myself, sans male company, I’m trying to keep my engineering consulting business afloat; have gone back to school; study French daily listening to CDs in the car; rehearsing to re-enter the entertainment business as formerly – a vocalist / jazz guitarist; praying, praying that this will be the year I finally go to France; and keeping the 1/3 acre yard of my modest ranch house up to snuff in my hoity-toity neighborhood. I flop into bed each night hoping that soon I will be rewarded – and wonder how that will feel. Right now, I just feel overwhelmed. Juicy? That sounds wonderful!
Hi DD, and faites comme chez vous. Here’s the thing about that hour of “juicy” last night – free, unexpected, late at night, in bed. Moi, and Twitter. Go figure.
It sounds like you certainly have your hands full – and ‘overwhelmed’ sucks. That’s a hefty schedule and a pile of commitments, but it sounds like you know what you’re working towards – including that someday trip to France. (And if you want to practice your French here – feel free!)
As far as the work goes, I love this line by Stephen Sondheim in Sunday in the Park with George, “Children and Art” (appropriately enough: “It’s not so much do what you like as it is that you like what you do.”
I wouldn’t have believed you if you’d told me even 5 years ago that I’d be working with most of the same people and incredibly content in my job. I’ve gotten a promotion in that time, and I’ve been able to appreciate a (mostly) stable work environment in a profession I never thought I’d love.
So it may not be juicy…but that’s what blogging is for!
Being able to survey your life and see what is still juicy and what isn’t, being able to let go of what has dried up, oh I hope I have those skills. Something stagnant is never good.
Wishing you all good juice along the wine dark sea.