Micro Entrepreneurism, Simple Living & Art
I went out for a run on Sunday afternoon. I had lots on my mind, and it was all stuck. Conversations went around in circles that never went anywhere but back to where they started. Progress? Not so much. So running I went, because running inevitably feels like progress. You go, you cover ground, you sweat, you see things, you come back, and although its usually to where you started, you feel different then when you left… At least, I do. There is satisfaction in the effort.
The problem I run into with trying to see progress is that sometimes I get wrapped up in looking at small quantities. When I knock my brain around a little I remember that this is a fairly absurd undertaking. I remember that progress happens in the moment, but it requires faith, because progress tends to sneak around under the surface of things, only making an appearance when specifically called upon to do so- when I take a moment to look back from where I stand and revel in the glory of what got me to where I am.
So all of that got me to thinking about static vs. dynamic and the impossibility of capturing the essence of such contemplations of time. Every word, picture, painting was a moment, and each new one is another moment. And looking back on them is just a glimpse, a memory of that moment. It does not represent time in its continuum, but rather time, artificially frozen, in a state that it will not ever exist. And yet this is what our lives are made up of, moments, and memories pieced together, piled on top of each other. Each one separate, but each one inherently attached to the others.
And this is where I started my latest paintings. A series. Called “Artificial Glimpses.”