Monday, August 23, 2010
Monday, August 16, 2010
"Gold, myrrh, and frank sent this" - Bobulate
A short list of nursery school thoughts from a recent favorite, Preschool Gems:
“Plants are more important than games.”
“I love all cakes, except some cakes I don’t like.”
“But I’m going somewhere even excitinger.”
“I don’t think anything.”
“Wizards are true.”
“The good force is like the main force, the evil force is like the second force. Don’t use the evil force, just the good force.”When they arrive throughout the day, I can’t help but think of Sir Ken Robinson’s insight earlier this year on creativity and education:
Kids will take a chance. If they don’t know, they’re not frightened of being wrong. I’m not saying that wrong is the same thing as being creative. What we do know is that if you’re not prepared to be wrong, you’ll never come up with anything original. And by the time they get to be adults, most kids have lost that capacity. … And we run our companies that way — we stigmatize mistakes. And we’re now running national education systems where mistakes are the worst thing you can make. We’re educating people out of their creative capacities.Throughout the day, it’s good to have reminders:
“Once, a long time ago, I had the whole world, and then I lost it.”
And that it’s absolutely OK.
This made me shiver.
Monday, March 22, 2010
Please Bring Strange Things
Please come bringing new things.
Let very old things come into your hands.
Let what you do not know come into your eyes.
Let desert sand harden your feet.
Let the arch of your feet be the mountains.
Let the paths of your fingertips be your maps
And the ways you go be the lines of your palms.
Let there be deep snow in your inbreathing
And your outbreath be the shining of ice.
May your mouth contain the shapes of strange words.
May you smell food cooking you have not eaten.
May the spring of a foreign river be your navel.
May your soul be at home where there are no houses.
Walk carefully, well-loved one,
Walk mindfully, well-loved one,
Walk fearlessly, well-loved one.
Return with us, return to us,
Be always coming home.
---Ursula K. Leguin
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Also... I love designers.
For some reason this resonates with the Supreme Court's decision re:corporate campaign funding. There is nothing human about 97% of corporations out there. They will not laugh at your jokes and they don't care if you can find your gate number on your boarding pass as long as you have already paid them for the ticket. They will also fire you if you get them bad press.
senseless acts of beauty
The act is its own reward.
I keep thinking about Jessica’s one thing:
The work you do while you procrastinate is probably the work you should be doing for the rest of your life.And this from Lorrie Moore on how to become a writer:
First, try to be something, anything, else. A movie star/astronaut. A movie star/missionary. A movie star/kindergarten teacher. President of the World. Fail miserably. It is best if you fail at an early age — say, fourteen. Early, critical disillusionment is necessary so that at so that at fifteen you can write long haiku sequences about thwarted desire. It is a pond, a cherry blossom, a wind brushing against sparrow wing leaving for mountain. Count the syllables. Show it to your mom. She is tough and practical. She has a son in Vietnam and a husband who may be having an affair. She believes in wearing brown because it hides spots. She’ll look briefly at your writing, then back up at you with a face blank as a donut. She’ll say: “How about emptying the dishwasher?” Look away. Shove the forks in the fork drawer. Accidentally break one of the freebie gas station glasses. This is the required pain and suffering. This is only for starters.Maud Newton points out:
Many writers do focus on another path initially. …. Roberto BolaƱo, for instance, wanted to be a spy, Kate Christensen a rock star, Joan Didion an actress. Chris Adrian went to medical school, and the seminary. Herman Melville was a sailor.But then, importantly, they were not these things.
Seth Godin, yesterday, published a new book, which has a tagline of: “Are You Indispensable?” Keep all of this in mind — Jessica’s advice, Lorrie Moore’s wisdom, Maud’s synthesis — and consider what Dan Pink had to say to Seth:
Too many people harbor the misguided belief that humans are motivated solely by biological urges and by carrots-and-sticks. Those two drives matter, of course. But we’ve neglected that humans also have a *third* drive — to direct our own lives, to get better at stuff, to make a contribution. Here’s an example. This weekend somebody’s going to be practicing the clarinet — even though it won’t get him a mate (the first drive) or make him any money (the second drive.) Why is he doing that? Because it’s fun, it’s interesting, it’s meaningful. Because the act is its own reward.It’s a lot. But, in fact, it’s fairly simple. Try to be anything else. That’s where it gets all tangle-y and difficult. Then go back to the thing that drives you; that act is its own reward.
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Monday, January 11, 2010
how to not crush easily crushed things
Sunday, January 10, 2010
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
Plastic shorty short.
Most of us have genes that make us as hardy as dandelions: able to take root and survive almost anywhere. A few of us, however, are more like the orchid: fragile and fickle, but capable of blooming spectacularly if given greenhouse care. So holds a provocative new theory of genetics, which asserts that the very genes that give us the most trouble as a species, causing behaviors that are self-destructive and antisocial, also underlie humankind’s phenomenal adaptability and evolutionary success. With a bad environment and poor parenting, orchid children can end up depressed, drug-addicted, or in jail—but with the right environment and good parenting, they can grow up to be society’s most creative, successful, and happy people.
Whoa. Just, whoa.
Plastic shorty short.
Most of us have genes that make us as hardy as dandelions: able to take root and survive almost anywhere. A few of us, however, are more like the orchid: fragile and fickle, but capable of blooming spectacularly if given greenhouse care. So holds a provocative new theory of genetics, which asserts that the very genes that give us the most trouble as a species, causing behaviors that are self-destructive and antisocial, also underlie humankind’s phenomenal adaptability and evolutionary success. With a bad environment and poor parenting, orchid children can end up depressed, drug-addicted, or in jail—but with the right environment and good parenting, they can grow up to be society’s most creative, successful, and happy people.
Whoa. Just, whoa.
Sunday, January 3, 2010
Saturday, January 2, 2010
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Monday, October 26, 2009
Michael Chabon: We’re All Amateurs Here
Perhaps there is no perfect word for the kind of people I have raised my children to be: a word that encompasses obsessive scholarship, passionate curiosity, curatorial tenderness, and an irrepressible desire to join in the game, to inhabit in some manner—through writing, drawing, dressing up, or endless conversational riffing and Talmudic debate—the world of the endlessly inviting, endlessly inhabitable work of popular art. The closest I have ever come for myself is amateur, in all the best senses of the word: a lover; a devotee; a person driven by passion and obsession to do it—to explore the imaginary world—oneself. And if we must accept the inevitable connotation of hopeless ineptitude that amateur carries, then at least let us stipulate that we shall be hopeless and inept like Max Fischer, the hero of Wes Anderson’s Rushmore: in the most passionate, heedless, and whole-hearted way.
via litwitvia tor.com
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Quote-y, Quote, Quote, Quote.
George Bernard Shaw
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Wild.
Ahem.
The Summer Day
Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean-
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down-
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
With your one wild and precious life?
- Mary Oliver
