Seeking

Please add this new blogger to your list of reading. The writer is a good friend. Although we do not always share the same political views, it is very important for me to remain open minded and spend some time debating with this fantastic writer.

I feel like the offering my feelings of creative inadequacy in my former post has resulted in an awakening of sorts.

As Charlie suggested in my comments section, it is amazing what you see when you look for it. For example, several events this past week have really inspired me, mostly because they are, well, inspiration provoking events-- but also because I have been extra sensitive and open to this sort of incubation, as I was ranting about earlier.

The first was the Fiona Apple concert I attended at the Tower (last minute surprise from Salvador).

Fiona has been mysteriously MIA in terms of making music since her last album (that I played out years ago.) So, it was super fascinating to see what has happened since then. Fiona is my age and although all her songs seem to be about past relationships, I am fairly certain there is more to it then that. My guess is some form of recovery from some sort of disease of the self-destructive genre.
Five seconds into her first performance I was surprised to find that she has evolved from her little skinny sex kitten thing to a raving lioness! When she spoke I felt like I was listening to Joplin talking: Wraspy, sarcastic and real. During the acoustic version of her newest song the creeping intensity of the primarily female crowd reminded me of how a shot of tequila feels as it crawls slowly up the back of my spine. Okay, bad metaphor, but I highly recommend the new album, she's an acquired taste but worth the listen. Plus, I left the show wanting to become a rock star all over again. Or, at least, write another blog entry.

The next event took place just the other night at the Palestra, aka the cathedral of college basketball.

Now my fiance told me before the game that everyone has to make their pilgrimage to the Palestra, that is just "one of those things". He was referring, of course, to the best and greatest young basketball players. Well, I thought he meant me. So, of course, in my mind I am anticipating my great pilgrimage to the Palestra...And that, it became.
The court is really just like a high school basketball gym and reminded me of sophomore year pep rallies (who knows how I remember those as I was usually cutting class on pep rally days.) Anyway, the smell of the place, the vibration of the chanting students, the bench style seats with spray painted numbers on them and the mural images of some of the greatest basketball players of all time was such a treat.
So, attending my first Big 5 game, one of Philly's greatest athletic traditions, was, well, worth the pilgrimage! Immersing myself in the energy of the game unexpectedly got me fairly fired up!

The last event, is actually a weekly thing that keeps taking on new meaning. Every week a girl friend of mine and I take a long walk together from my studio to the Art Museum. Usually it takes us no more then an hour, there and back. Well, these walks have really become sacred to me. They are kind of the like the movie Keeping The Faith. Okay, so my friend is not a Priest, and I am far from a Rabbi. But she is very comfortable with her religion of choice. Although I am only mostly, kind of Jewish the difference between us and our beliefs has made for an intense spiritual, intellectual and fascinating discussion each week.
The intimate nature of the one on one walk, the scenery around us and a shared goal provide a really safe space for me to talk about religion. I don't feel judged, nor pressured to accept her beliefs nor secretly superior, I feel right sized and open minded and able to listen. Religion, although I am not convinced it will ever be for me is something I need to talk about or else I become bitter, insecure and disillusioned.

I don't know perhaps all these moments this week seem redundant or obvious in their inspirational nature..It is just so much more effective when I pay attention.

So there you have it, some motivation towards a big idea, or something.

To accompany my personal goal of "meditating on a big idea" blog last week, I thought I would share a bit of what inspires me. Plus, I have finally got it together to post pictures.

The following is a pictorial of the scenery I absorb everyday on my 30 minute trek home from work. This is usually where I do my obsessive thinking and the occasional spiritual connecting. My favorite part of the walk is across this bridge which has a little guarded footbridge for pedestrians. Primary these photos are from the inside of the metal fence guard rail thing on the pedestrian foot bridge.

I approach this apropos corner everyday:



This was a gloomy day and I cheated too (the image is obviously from the car) and not my actual foot commute but this is good long view of the bridge:



View from the middle point of bridge around 5:15pm:





Secret footbridge artwork (Isn't street art becoming exceptionally evolved and jeez there is some real depth and weight in these anonymous works):







Over the one side of the bridge:



Post-bridge walk:



And finally my fiance and I thought this was kind of witty (actually, we just kept saying we should take a picture of it):

Okay so that was an extra long week of trying to be a bit more kind to others.
I think I was more mindful about how I was behaving but not necessarily "nicer" per say. Well, I did my best.

The past two weeks have been filled with holiday shopping galore, preparing for a big move in the end of December and lots and lots of family. Hence I have not posted for awhile. My dad gave me the little nudge, so, here I am.

I have to admit I miss the days of postmodern blogging. For whatever reason I need a stronger blog theme but it is just not coming to me. Oddest thing about that is I used to be able to write very well:

Ok, little known fact, I kind of was a writer. Meaning: I identified myself as a writer...Okay, more as an artist. But as a youth, the one asset, skill or talent I seemed to possess was writing. I optimistically sent poetry in to journals, zines and magazines for publishing, I impressed my high school English teachers, my childhood journals still fill molded over boxes to this day. I have short stories, term papers, screenplays...finished and unfinished, all sitting in notebooks or in obscurely labeled computer files.

The sad part is, I have lost it. The grammar, the metrical structure, the fluid way of inserting metaphors at the right moment. Even my prose blows. Theis particular talent just melted away. Seemingly more important things have taken up space in that part of my brain.

Another little known fact, I come from a family of writers. Trust me, I know it is hard to tell based on my blogging, but really I do. Both sides. Successful, published, poets, New York Times and multiple-novel kind of writers are all out there with the same blood as I.

And here I am: the sudo-film maker, sudo-installation artist, sudo-creative minded yuppie kid. I mean my nails are polished and I joined the fantasy fashion league for Gawd's sake.

I understand that is ok to be lost. Being unclear about what to do for creative projects and spending a few years, quite a few, with out a pen in hand is all part of the creative process..But what if it sticks? What if I never return to it?

In film making there is this period in the process of creating a film idea that cheesy film people (and other artists) call incubation. It is self-explanatory really, but it is important. It is when you sort of have an idea of what you want the story, the look, the feel of the film to be but then you need a few weeks to just observe the world, go to museums, watch movies, drink tea, meditate..let the idea incubate.

I have been incubating since December at this time last year, when I finally made it out of undergrad with my BA. I am ready to manifest something, anything. Whether I start writing again or not. All in all I am getting antsy creative wise. It is almost a family legacy in a sense. Just like athletics, or military service. Maybe I'll come back from the Peace Corps with a novel in hand, or at least an idea for one.

Okay, rant over.

My goal for week 5? Meditation on a big idea. More incubation.