Tag Archives: painting

Brain Fog

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I’ve been reading, lately, that an increasing number of people are having a serious problem thinking. The complaint, made primarily by young adults, is of an inability to mentally focus and make decisions. In explanation, researchers point to the prevalence of ‘long covid’ as being a primary culprit causing what suffers refer to as ‘brain fog’: a condition affecting their ability to function at work.

I find myself wondering as I observe these Gen-Zers and Millennials, ubiquitous smart phones in hand while in airpod oblivion, what the true cause of their ‘brain fog’ might be.

Confrontation

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A recent heated confrontation has me thinking about my history of passionate exchanges. As I remember my teen years, confrontation was youthful exuberance fed by a black/white world view, nuances not yet present in my developing brain. Hot-blooded exchanges, aggressive verbal attacks were fed by moral outrage at perceived social injustices. To be honest such passions manifested in private, usually from the safety of my bedroom.

These days I try to avoid confrontation, am better able (thanks to blood-pressure meds) to temper animosities, remaining silent and suppressing my inclination to speak out in the heat of the moment. Even so, I am surprised sometimes when my temper flairs and I’m unable to withhold strong response. I guess certain behaviors are simply in one’s nature.

Fishing Trip Revisited

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I’ve been thinking about the fishing trip I was on this past summer, how difficult, unpleasant I found it to be. The small boat on rough water and lack of the sonar devices most everyone else on the lake had made me thinking of the David Foster Wallace essay title: ‘A Supposedly Fun Thing I’ll Never Do Again’. I found myself humming Taj Mahal’s ‘Going Fishin’ to pass the time.

Now, as many things viewed in retrospect, I remember a not unpleasant experience resulting eventually in reasonable success. I think now of the small plaque in the fish camp’s cleaning building that offered the fisherman’s common plaint: ‘Tell Your Own Lies’. Multiple meanings in that, I guess.

Delayed Gratification

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I’ve been thinking lately about how satisfying one’s desires ought to be thought about as one ages. The delayed gratification test given to young children involving one marshmallow now or two awhile later is meant, I guess, to determine a child’s sense of discipline, discernment and desires.

The idea of having it now or saving for later should, I think, be nuanced later in life as we age and our tastes and health are factored into what waiting means. At some point, when all possibilities are considered, it seems reasonable to consume and enjoy immediately.

Non-Representational Art

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In the late 1940’s and early ’50’s artists painting in a non-representational manner had no language or means of conveying what they were doing. The intention was to create paintings of substance while eliminating pictorial space and figure/ground relationships. The problem being that not much could be said about what one was doing and what sort of meaning such work might have.

The result of these concerns was a move toward extreme minimalism, appreciation lying, I guess, in a Zen-like meditation on an essentially monochrome canvas. The artist Robert Irwin contemplated this orange painting for weeks moving one or the other horizontal lines up or down fractions of an inch.

Curious to consider how to interpret such a personal activity. No wonder, I suppose, why such concerns confound the viewing public and remain an esoteric interest at best.

Traveling

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I’ve been traveling lately through large unfamiliar cities. Hampered, as I am, by short-term memory loss and an inability to follow directions, the visual glut and auditory din I encounter has me exhausted. I find myself lost almost immediately upon arrival at the train station (or airport or bus terminal) as I try to decipher the abstract metro maps or follow the fine lines of the tram or bus routes on the city directory the friendly information folks handout with a smile. By the time I stumble upon my lodgings and rest up a bit I have to remind myself of the danger of going off without sufficient attention to place and getting lost all over again.
The upside of it all being the realization that people the world over are open, friendly and ready to help a disoriented stranger and are, I think, appreciative that someone would be interested in visiting the place they call home.

Beauty is in the Ephemeral

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I’ve been thinking lately about the nature of beauty: about how much determination of the beautiful relies on its fleeting existence.

Some might argue that art captures beauty in permanence, but I would suggest captured beauty relies on context: Michaelangelo’s virgin in his Pieta is beautiful in relation to her youthfulness and suffering. Generally, the beauty of young women relies on the ephemeral nature of their youthfulness. Similarly, determining beauty in the natural world relies on a subconscious realization of changing seasons.

Realizing beauty is an uplifting experience that might not be possible without an awareness of one’s mortality: our ephemeral existence.

Facing Our Ultimate Demise

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Forgive me, if you will, for dwelling on the morbid but I can’t help thinking about the ultimate aftermath, what might be awaiting us after our final demise.

The fear most of us feel when such thoughts occur, I suspect, may be about facing the unfamiliar, leaving behind the faces, placers, environment, social connections that is one’s world. if we set aside the science of biological existence which seems reasonable from a spiritual perspective most any scenario is in play. Imagination would suggest intriguing possibilities for what might come next.

My Tragic Dental History

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Having just had to go to the dentist for an issue with one of the few remaining teeth I have left has me thinking about my dental history.

At the age of twelve I lost my top four front teeth to a car dashboard (a time before seat belts). The partial dental replacement I got after that was held in place by wires around the molars, that, over the years, ate away at those supporting teeth eventually resulting in the need for an upper denture. Throughout my life I’ve become quite familiar with the dreaded root canal procedure that did preserve some of the lower molars for a while, but eventually the caps broke down and the teeth cracked.

I should, I suppose, appreciate the richness of my dental experiences; experiences that those with sound teeth never realize.

Visible Man

Progress of Civilization

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I’ve been reading about an ancient village site in the near east that archaeologists have determined to have been inhabited by a people practicing plant cultivation, pottery and other technologies 2000 years before what generally has been thought to be the beginnings of the agricultural revolution, which, I guess, disrupts the linear timeline science prefers to view as the progression of civilization.
The finding suggests that some pre-historic groups chose the more sedentary lifestyle provided by agriculture while others opted for the less work intensive life of the hunter gatherer: that is domestication of plants and animals was not necessarily found to be the preferred choice of all people of time and place.
The choice may have been about preferring egalitarianism to a developing hierarchy based on material accumulation. Maybe these forward thinkers might have seen how illness and death spread amongst sedentary populations exacerbated further by diseases caused by close contact with domesticated animals.
In retrospect, in view of the ecological impact material accumulation has imposed upon us now, a simpler lifestyle was a good choice. Comfort and security, of course will always win out in the end.