becoming an artist

The following is from Mark Z. Danielewski's novel "House of Leaves," upon which I commented in my previous post.

There are seven incarnations (and six correlates) necessary to becoming an Artist:

1. Explorer (Courage) -- First, you must leave the safety of your home and go into the dangers of the world, whether to an actual territory or some unexamined aspect of the psyche...

2. Surveyor (Vision) -- Next, you must have the vision to recognize your destination once you get there. Note that a destination may sometimes also be the journey...

3. Miner (Strength) -- Third, you must be strong enough to dig up facts, follow veins of history, unearth telling details...

4. Refiner (Patience) -- Fourth, you must have the patience to winnow and process your material into something rare. This may take months or even years...

5. Designer (Intelligence) -- Fifth, you must use your intellect to conceive of your material as something meaning more than its origins...

6. Maker (Experience) -- Six, you must fashion a work independent of everything that has gone before it including yourself. This is accomplished through experience...

At this stage, the work is acceptable. You will be fortunate to have progressed so far. It is unlikely, however, that you will go any farther. Most do not. But let us assume you are exceptional. Let us assume you are rare. What then does it mean to reach the final incarnation? Only this: at every stage, from 1 thru (sic) 6, you will risk more, see more, gather more, process more, fashion more, consider more, love more, suffer more, imagine more and in the end know why less means more and leave what doesn't and keep what implies and create what matters. This is what is meant by 'Artist.'

7. Artist

____________________________________________


This resonates.

____________________________________________

"Could they be the miners?"
--"Sure, they're, like, three years old."
"...Miners, not minors!
--"You lost me."

;oD

i do dumb things sometimes

This time, I tried to light a match. Which, under ordinary circumstances, would not be a dumb thing to do. But I had just smeared lotion all over my hands, making my fingers too slick to get a good grasp on the match. So, instead of doing the smart thing and wiping the lotion off, I...

...tore the match out of the matchbook with my teeth,
clamped the head of the match between the front and back flaps of the matchbook,
and pulled really hard.

It did not occur to me that this would result in my holding a burning match in my teeth, with the flame about half an inch from my face.

I was startled enough to let go of the match, which obeyed the law of gravity by dropping to the floor. Some other natural law--having to do with combustion and chemistry, I suppose--also went into effect, keeping the match burning as it fell. Fortunately, I regained my presence of mind quickly enough to stamp out the flame before it could catch the carpet on fire.

So, dear children, the moral of the story is: obvious.

There's now a little stinging spot on my lip--not a burn from the flame itself, but from the spark as the match lit.

*sigh*

why being a TCK/expatriate is so weird

I've been reading "The Art of Coming Home" by Craig Storti. What follows are resulting ruminations.

Being a TCK means being a paradox that walks around on two legs and talks (sometimes sensibly, and sometimes not so sensibly). Here are a few illustrations:

I can travel around all of Europe, sleeping on trains, carrying nothing but a backpack, and enjoy it.
I can stand up to irate cleaning ladies in train station bathrooms and sling back as good as they're dishing out to me.
I can converse in three languages and order from menus in six.
I started traveling across the world by myself via airplane when I was 15. (And I've crossed the Atlantic more than fifty times.)
I have more than passing acquaintance with the cultures of four different countries.

BUT:

I don't know how to use an ATM.
I don't know how to open a bank account.
Highway systems mystify me.
I wouldn't have a clue how to operate a gas oven.
I don't know how to buy a car.
I don't know how to buy a house.
I have a lot of trouble boiling eggs.
Until a few days ago, I'd never had a library card or checked out a library book on my own.
I don't know who the mayor of my city of residence is.
And a plethora of other things.

As a TCK, I have a storehouse of experiences and skills that enable me to function on a global scale. But when it comes down to some of the practical details of everyday life, I am often operating solely on guesswork.

I'm not bemoaning this; it is who I am. I don't feel any sort of desperation to "fix" the things on that second list. I am definitely interested in self-improvement, but most of those things, I figure, I'll learn in the course of life. I just thought I'd offer these two lists as an example of the TCK paradox--because unlike Tigger, I am not the only one. ;o)

elitism tastes good sometimes

"I don't have scientific data to back me up, but I've anecdotally witnessed a direct relationship between someone's willingness to read and their level of education, success, expectations for themselves, and general, uh, interestingness they bring to the table. I guess that makes me one of those 'elitists' we keep hearing about, but with that in mind, you may understand why it's been pretty...important to me that I instill a love of reading in my kids."

--Wil Wheaton
in his blog


If this were a Commonplace Book, and my profs were leaving me Post-It Note comments in it (which they did in my real Commonplace Book back in the Dark Ages of 1997), they would tell me that my posts are "heavy on Wil Wheaton" (in 1997, it was "heavy on Elton John). Guilty as charged (on all counts, past and hypothetical present).

That admitted, I really do enjoy Wil's thoughts. I won't say that I agree with him 100% on this particular quote: It doesn't apply to everyone; personally, I know plenty of highly interesting people who aren't big readers; but I do believe that the willingness to read affects education level and expectations for self.

In some ways, it can even determine education level and expectations for self.

Reading swings my verge!

i be sma-a-a-a-a-a-rt

Your Dominant Intelligence is Linguistic Intelligence

You are excellent with words and language. You explain yourself well. An elegant speaker, you can converse well with anyone on the fly. You are also good at remembering information and convicing someone of your point of view. A master of creative phrasing and unique words, you enjoy expanding your vocabulary. You would make a fantastic poet, journalist, writer, teacher, lawyer, politician, or translator. [Courtney's Comment: Ha! Go figure! ;o) ]

What Kind of Intelligence Do You Have?