It's About That Time

Every clock in the house tells a different time. The retro brick red clock above the sink is just hard enough to reach that I didn't drag a stool over promptly when it stopped; initially it provided a point for internal criticism, and then, minor shame when people happened through and remarked upon it. Somehow none of it penetrated enough for me to actually change it; and now, when I come in the kitchen side door, I still glance up, only to confirm the reading through its bubble face: Oh yes, twelve minutes to eleven. Right. The other ones are cagier; I know that they run slow, for their own mysterious reasons; and I tend to them periodically, when the slippage grows too glaring. But still: why? And why bother, when you have your cellphone, right? The cause of myriad tanned wrists and cast aside watchmakers everywhere. The cellphone which briefly glows bright around 2 or 3 AM, as it disconcertingly connects with its Mothership. Unfortunate when you forget to turn it face down and are sleeping fitfully.

If my house is a time warp zone, my internal clockworks -- and by extension my calendar time -- is likewise experiencing disconnects. To wit: some part of my brain has kicked into the Reckoning Overdrive that normally bombards one during New Year's Eve/Birthday times. WHAT is the import of your life? WHAT, the measure of your years? WHY fritter away time on imaginary TV characters and every other silly filler item, when there are things you could grasp, things to be made, achievements to check off? But really, if all you wish to do is check the box for a task done, was that a worthy marker in the first place? And to cap it off, if all one does is bat the ideas back and forth, that amounts to less than nothing, as one is aware of unused potential, but has not GONE FORTH. The armchair traveler will remain ever safer than the actual traveler. I'm sure the murkiness of this paragraph has already clued you into the fact that I clearly don't have a plan. 

Right now -- today -- Saturday -- I'm opting for the "big changes happen in small steps" school of thought. Maybe I'm letting myself off easy. But today's phrase is: more organization, in service of freer creativity. Incongruous? I sat down to blog a few hours ago. It has been a long time, and so I thought, well maybe a photo based post: not too much, just Short and Sweet.*

*HAH! you say, if you know me. AS IF. I know, I know, but this is frequently my intention, believe it not. 

But then I found myself wading through the pictures folder. Hundreds of jpegs, very very few ever posted; and more on my camera. Tons of folders with somewhat helpful descriptions. I started to organize. I continued to organize. I could still be doing this. I could still be doing this, come twelve minutes to 11 tonight. Or tomorrow morning. And so many of these images were also meant to fuel or buttress blogging, up to a year ago. I know that many have spurred googly research (what's this muralist doing now? are there videos of this jeweler's unique approach?), the links to which sit waiting in other files. And in this way the vestiges of experience become a weight rather than enrichment/curiosities to share. Who wants it to be this way? Could it really be so easy that building more organizing into the snippet gathering could allow me to focus on what I want to? In past months, it has been suggested that structure is not my strong suit. Especially for those of us who do not naturally lock into grid formation, it is essential to better develop habits to counteract our meandering natures, without quashing them.

And now it is twelve to 11, or 2:57/2:59/3:00/3:01. I had intended to be at the DIA by now, not for any specific exhibit but because I have NOT BEEN THERE ALL SUMMER, which is a most unfortunate first. And lordy, lordy, lordy, the prospect of the emergency manager's potential shortsightedness of AUCTIONING OFF Detroit's art museum is too much for me to wrap my head around (Unfamiliar with the peril facing the Detroit Art Museum? Check out Rachel Maddow's take on it, and on emergency managers in general here). So, off to sneak in a brief visit (along with more picture taking most likely, but they will be folded into useful folders!). And then. all going well, I'll also get to meet Javier there and we'll have a great night out in Detroit, (possibly Shangri-La?? Maybe movies...)

Tomorrow I hope to pay a visit closer to home, at the Univ. of Michigan Art Musuem, for a cool exhibit that's closing Sept. 1st. Last chance, local folks, sounds great!  A paired exhibit of the works of a Japanese American artist and landscape architect, plus Chinese painter, Qi Baishi. I'm almost certain I got to see some of his scrolls at the Shanghai art museum last year. UMMA is open from noon-5 on Sundays.
  
And awayyyyyyy we go!