Archive for the ‘Angst’ Category
Friday, July 14th, 2006
Not too many things make me angry, but I must say that I hate to misplace things, and looking for a missing item is a fast track to the loss of harmony as well. I truly hate the entire dynamic, and it goes to the heart of my quirks about organization and a personal relationship with “stuff.”
Before long, we’ll complete our final preparations and leave for Michigan. If we can survive the packing.
It must not matter if you’re famous or anonymous, nor whether you have the means to buy almost anything once you arrive at a destination, there’s still something about packing for a trip that generates tension and the potential for conflict. When you add to that the frustration of locating misplaced items, the combination can be rather combustible.
Charlton Heston thought enough about this volatile phenomenon to include some observations in his excellent collection of journal entries called “The Actor’s Life.” He wrote about various pre-departure blow-ups. Later, he records that he and Lydia finally came to a workable resolution—henceforth, he would play no part at all in packing.
He never mentions it again.
On this point alone, Chuck is more man than I shall ever be.
Posted in Angst, Nonfiction, Personalities, Psychology | Comments Closed
Tuesday, June 27th, 2006
I spent a good portion of today and yesterday cleaning out and organizing our stash of project files and “job jackets,” and I think I’ve hit on a key reason I’m so averse to throwing out personal papers and old records of past work. It must have something to do with a resistance to stirring up dormant feelings. To toss is to toss, but to conscientiously purge files while retaining only that which is valuable means reliving the emotional experiences, to some degree, both pleasant and unpleasant. For me, accepting this sheds light on another aspect of throwing things away—overcoming the apprehension of making a mistake or misjudgment, and inviting future emotions of loss or regret.
Some of this is downright crazy—rekindled emotions tied up with worries about emotions yet to come—and I can see why others just turn off the scrutiny and pitch away. There has to be a balance between the two forms of mild madness. One must not dread feelings from the past nor carry a fear of feelings yet to come, for both impinge on the equilibrium of the present. The past doesn’t exist, and the future is forever unreal. All we ever possess is the present. The continuous now is our only laboratory for the mastering of time and space.
Time… I’m spending it with my rubbish!
Space… I need more of it! Now!
Posted in Angst, Psychology, Space, Studio, Time | Comments Closed
Sunday, June 18th, 2006
Well, at least I’m not orbiting the planet, trying to reboot the operating system in pitch blackness so I won’t die…
Posted in Angst, Studio, Technology | Comments Closed
Thursday, June 15th, 2006
Computer problems. Bah! Humbug!
Who built this kingdom of Babel?
I don’t have the developer’s disposition. For them, every glitch, bug, or snafu is a stimulus to enthusiasm, something new and challenging to solve. If I were the Maytag repairman, I’d be content to daydream my way through each blissful day.
“For every improvement there’s a commensurate level of frustration and confusion… With our intellectual assets more and more dependent on the Web, on networked computers, we seem as vulnerable as ever. Call this a pragmatist’s view of progress: All things change but our life experience remains essentially the same; everywhere there are new problems.”
Dale Dougherty wrote that in 1998, and it remains as true as ever.
Posted in Angst, Technology | Comments Closed
Wednesday, May 31st, 2006
It’s happened a second time within eight weeks—more property dumped in the gap between the Town House and the building on the corner next door (this time a pile of antique silverware). While I was waiting at the police department, a nervous guy with extensive rune-like tattoos started a conversation. I think he might have been a crime victim and it looked like he was there to turn in a list of stolen items. He was telling me now crazy a place this was, a conclusion he’d formed after living here a month.
“People do meth. I’ve never even seen meth. They snort it at work. People drink and drive all the time. I don’t even drink. I’m from New York. This place is crazy. It’s like it’s a no-consequences town or something. If you get caught drinking and driving in New York, you don’t get your license back. Not like here, with multiple offenses before they do anything. It’s crazy.”
I didn’t know what to say. How bad will it have to get in Kentucky before we experience the kind of enforcement crack-downs that have already taken place in other areas of the country? How bad will it have to get in Danville?
Posted in Angst, Community, Crime, Home | Comments Closed
Wednesday, May 24th, 2006
• As I mull over my current circumstances, “dire situation” is a phrase I hesitate to use, but it’s probably as accurate as any. That hit home tonight when I realized the graybeard was shamelessly prospecting during his traditional Wednesday evening bicycle ride.
Sorta sad, eh?
… graybeard prospector …
Posted in Angst, Business, Exercise | Comments Closed
Tuesday, May 23rd, 2006
Long day. All pro-bono. All day. Long face.
Posted in Angst, Business, Studio | Comments Closed
Thursday, May 18th, 2006
Last night before bed I read Ian’s post about his mother, and it would’ve buckled my knees if I hadn’t been sitting down. And then I had this dream where I was swimming in a pond and there was this powerful suction hole at the bottom that carried water a good ways off, and I got up the courage to swim into it and it sucked me through a tunnel and spat me out down a hill. Then someone else decided to try it (I won’t use a name), and they didn’t come out the other side. I had the horrible realization that the person had become stuck and was probably struggling and holding his breath, so I had to decide immediately whether to go in, too, with the hope of possibly dislodging him and forcing us through, but having the clear awareness that we would likely both be stuck and drown—or whether to do nothing—and I had to decide NOW. It was so frightening that I woke up and I haven’t forgotten about it yet. Sorry, I promise I won’t make a practice of recording my dreams here. Maybe all this is because I was talking to Mombo about that bad dream I had back in January.
Posted in Angst, Family, Joan, Mombo | Comments Closed
Monday, May 15th, 2006
Band Festival, Salvation Army, Bicycle Commission…
Alas, where did my Monday go?
Posted in Angst | Comments Closed
Friday, April 21st, 2006
Another week ends with little sense of breakthrough and too much sense of struggle. I had the strong feeling today that the experiment clarified the power of correct tactics, but is of limited value without the proper strategy. Perhaps the strategy will come out of applying the organizing principle, but I doubt it. There’s a missing key that’s greater than diligence, a missing key that must fuel the perseverance.
Tonight we were the guests of Jeannette and Ben, two more of our generous friends (the secret treasure in my life), along with Kathy and Bill, and Shirley and Larry. Of the four couples, we are the only one not enjoying an extraordinarily comfortable retirement rooted in a lifetime of dedicated work. These are people with whom I am totally at ease one-on-one, but the harder I tried to relax, the more uncomfortable and out of place I felt. My state of unease was silly and unnecessary, but I didn’t seem to be able to remove it, any more than I was in a position to take off my shirt.
On top of it all, I realize that it really had nothing to do with my environment or my companions. As long as my life is out of balance, I’ll feel stuck in a rut, and so I’ve got to keep striving to sort this out.
Again, Emerson’s words weigh on my mind:
I find the coincidence of the extremes of eastern and western speculation in the daring statement of Schelling, “there is in every man a certain feeling, that he has been what he is from all eternity, and by no means became such in time.” To say it less sublimely, — in the history of the individual is always an account of his condition, and he knows himself to be a party to his present estate.
Posted in Angst, Friends, Nonfiction, Personalities, Priorities | Comments Closed
Thursday, April 20th, 2006
• I had a prospect call me to ask our hourly rate. It’s not the type of question you like to hear up front. The person is already caught up in a comparison of apples to lemons. It becomes complicated to explain our schedule of fees, which primarily serves as a basis for estimating a total project. I had a follow-up question for him:
“If you find someone who charges $30 per hour, and it takes them an hour to come up with an idea, but it takes me 15 minutes to develop a concept based on a track record of effectiveness, which is the better deal?”
I didn’t get to ask it. He’d already hung up as soon as I said our top charge for creative consultation is $100 per hour. As much as I hear about how design conscious our society has become, I rarely find evidence that people understand more about my profession than they did when I started out 30 years ago, but I’ll shut up now, because you didn’t visit this site to hear me whine and complain…
… graybeard prospector …
Posted in Angst, Business, Creativity, Studio | Comments Closed
Wednesday, April 19th, 2006
Dana just left to drive Bruce back to his home in Indianapolis. He seems very weak, but in reasonably good spirits.
I could accept that few members of my extended family were able to make the same trip while Bruce was in the hospital for the better part of a year. It’s much harder for me to understand how only three of them—Joan, Brendan, and Caitlan—could manage a visit while he was in the hospital for more than a week, right here in Danville. Mombo stopped by today, but just missed them. I think she feels very sorry about it.
Nobody likes hospitals, except perhaps for some of the people who work there… perhaps… However, there’s got to be more to it than that.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m part of a wonderful Clan, but life can be strange, and certain things happen that just don’t make any sense, and probably never will.
Posted in Angst, Brendan, Caitlan, Dana, Family, Joan, Mombo | Comments Closed
Wednesday, April 12th, 2006
My love of April pulses through the senses… the perceptions of life reborn, and the resurrection flame in every emerald shoot.
My respect for March is a sober weight on my heart… the power of the experiment wanes, like a staggering man who clutches someone’s sleeve to steady himself. The currents of life swirl at my newly found stability, threatening to undermine the uncured foundation.
I feel the low gravitational energy of 2005 pulling at my center.
And so I mount the two-wheeled steed with my cohorts, and defy the hills until my lungs want to explode.
To fly with the redwing blackbirds, as the wind drinks my tears…
Posted in Angst, Exercise, Friends, Nature | Comments Closed
Thursday, April 6th, 2006
Two incidents contributed to a higher level of perceived insecurity here on West Broadway.
The other night, somebody broke into the public library just to steal the loose-change jug at the circulation desk. It had been a well-known, symbolic part of the fundraising drive to build the major expansion toward our home. It was the second time the jug was stolen. After the first time, it was attached to a drawer with cable. The burglars took the drawer, too. The result: library managers have said they won’t put out a third jug.
Yesterday, while Marty was helping me trim back the heavy bushes between the Town House and the CPAs’ building next door, we found a discarded purse. The driver’s license was still in the wallet, but no money. It was hard to tell how long it had been there. It was immediately taken over to the police department. Marty shared a few insights into the behavior of crack addicts that I wished he didn’t have at his age. The result: when Dana had to walk over to the ATM last night after dark, I tagged along and packed heat in downtown Danville for the first time in recent memory.
Posted in Angst, Community, Dana, Firearms, Home, Marty | Comments Closed
Thursday, March 30th, 2006
This is how day twenty-nine has gone…
5:30 am — Is this what it feels like to go mad?
6:47 am — Am I on solid ground here, or am I out of my mind?
9:20 am — This will work. I’m a genius!
2:43 pm — This is absurd. What am I doing to myself?
4:02 pm — God, it would be so cool to do this every day.
7:58 pm — Wow. Maybe I’m really going to pull this off.
Posted in Angst, Creativity | Comments Closed
Tuesday, March 28th, 2006
Now that I’ve learned the lesson not to worry about something that isn’t in front of me, I have to learn something more difficult, and that’s how to avoid spinning my emotional wheels with the real task that is in front of me, to stop fretting about how it will turn out and to promptly start making the first permanent marks on top of the sketch that will be erased. This might be the most critical habit I can develop, but it will require vanquishing another that has been on my back for most of my life, and I’m sick and tired of it…
Begin!
Posted in Angst, Art, Creativity, Studio | Comments Closed
Monday, March 27th, 2006
March experiment—day twenty-six— Some days start out bad and get worse. Today started out awful, but improved dramatically by evening. I feel fortunate. There were times when a morning like today’s might gnaw at me for a long time. It may seem obvious, but if you wake up to a spoiled serving, you need to deal with it head on, rather than letting it just sit there and rot.
Today’s sight bite— My smiling friend, with an African tracker and 1906 Oberndorf Mauser—c-l-i-c-k—proudly displaying his trophy impala in the harsh KwaZulu-Natal landscape.
Tomorrow— An early checklist of leftovers, to make way for a full day with the pen and brush…
Posted in Angst, Friends, Hunting, Priorities, Studio | Comments Closed
Friday, March 17th, 2006
March experiment—day sixteen— Woke up thinking I needed to dissolve last night’s angst about how I chaired the steering group meeting. Rather than stew about it, I trusted the “in-nerd” and resolved it by 7 am with a note to the guys who were there. Simple—thank them and pledge to do better. You wouldn’t think that I’d be figuring these things out at age 53, but there it is.
On our way to and from the Rotary lunch, David and I nailed down our strategy for promoting my pen and wash commissions. The timetable will be a bit of a crunch, but it dovetails with the home stretch of my prevailing time-management experiment.
Had some major breakthroughs on the equine graphics this week, so I locked myself into a presentation next Friday. The practice of self-imposed deadlines is a delicate art. Too far out is another form of procrastination, but too soon can invite disaster. Exactly right is a proven stimulant to creative productivity and concept integration. I don’t always get it right, but I’m a believer. If you don’t have an external due date, you have to create your own. Sadly, I have a wealth of experience trying to avoid what should be a self-evident truth.
After my conversation with Dr. Williams, a wave of fatigue came crashing in from behind me and I had to nap before Dana’s tasty fish-with-wild-rice supper.
Today’s sight bite— A Martini rifle, a walking horse, a hunter and his warthog, ten smiling handgun competitors—c-l-i-c-k, c-l-i-c-k, c-l-i-c-k—a flurry of digital images that etch the memory.
Tomorrow— Nine-mile run at daybreak, yard work, house cleaning, fine art, and English country dancing…
Posted in Angst, Community, Dana, Food, Friends, Home, Studio, Time | Comments Closed
Thursday, March 16th, 2006
March experiment—day fifteen— Took a break after 20 laps and caught some rays on the deck next to the natatorium. I wasn’t expecting the sun to nullify the breeze, so I found it to be surprisingly comfortable for the few minutes I spent outside. The pool felt warm when I first got back in the water and soon finished up with 33 total laps—a perfect workout.
When I got back to the studio, I was able to find my way through a difficult juncture with the Burkmann equine symbology, even though I felt thoroughly stumped before my midday swim. Dr. Williams has set the bar rather high on this assignment, and I’m trying to avoid taking a “safe” approach. I wish it was self-confidence that drives me to employ a challenging design method, but I suppose it’s just fear of mediocrity.
Tonight’s brainstorming session with five other avid cyclists was moving along nicely until I let the meeting become diffused and run too long. I still have so much to learn about efficient meeting leadership, and I wonder if I’ll ever gain that valuable skill.
Today’s sight bite— Treating my eyes to a crocus bed of purple, white, and yellow splashes—c-l-i-c-k—before looking up to see bare-arm walkers and a ’57 Chevy Bel Air cruise by. (Don’t tell anyone in Punxsutawney, but spring arrived in Danville, Kentucky on March 16th.)
Tomorrow— Complete the Salvation Army stationery and invitation letter for April’s annual event…
Posted in Angst, Exercise, Public Service, Studio | Comments Closed
Monday, March 13th, 2006
March experiment—day twelve— This dismal weather is starting to get to me. I’d rather be forced to wear a heavy coat and gloves, if it would get me a blue sky. Continued to use my time matrix to chip away at projects, not all of them money-makers. Took the equine-packaging job from sketches to electronics this afternoon and that’s an important step. After five o’clock, I tried to finish cleaning up the front yard, but it started to rain. Didn’t that happen yesterday? Tonight I sat down again with “FLIGHT, Volume Two.” This collection doesn’t seem as awesome to me as Volume One, but I’m enjoying it immensely. That’s just the way it is with sequels, I guess. I can’t help but observe how much some of these artists have been affected by the drawings of Bill Watterson. Reminds me of when I look at political cartoons and realize that an entire generation of editorial artists have been influenced by Mike Peters and Jeff MacNelly.
Today’s sight bite— Sky like a canopy of yellow-grey bruises—c-l-i-c-k—with a tree swaying the way a nervous man shifts his weight from one leg to another.
Tomorrow— Wake up to the stationery bike and another gym workout (try to catch
Sebastian Junger on “Washington Journal”), and then get in some billable time before the Salvation Army executive committee meets…
Posted in Angst, Art, Home, Nature, Personalities, Studio, Time | Comments Closed
Sunday, March 5th, 2006
Slept just fine on the cabin’s big leather sofa, but I awoke with a complete mental storyboard of action choreography for the climax of a gangster movie that doesn’t even exist.
All the more reason to re-calibrate my imagination when I get back to the prescribed studio discipline tomorrow…
Posted in Angst, Creativity, Movies | Comments Closed
Thursday, February 16th, 2006
A wise man once said, “There is nothing trivial about hat loss.”
My nerves were on edge today, until I retrieved from Centre’s lost-and-found collection the blue hat that once belonged to a man named Joe Wood.
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