creativity

A Year of Yes: Be a Young Person’s Carl Sagan

This week I was watching an episode of Cosmos, and Neil deGrasse Tyson told the story of how Carl Sagan invited him to Ithaca when Tyson was just 17 years old and growing up in the Bronx. Sagan encouraged him to pursue his passion in science. It was a pivotal moment in Tyson’s life, a moment he’s never forgotten.

That’s the power of mentorship, of caring about the future and the success of young people. Carl Sagan had plenty of other ways to spend his time. He chose to make time to help young people, to support their dreams and aspirations, to share his love for science.

Whatever your talents, I hope you’ll find a way to use them to help our youngest generations. They need us, and we need them.

creativity

A Year of Yes: Making time for Michelangelo at the Met

“The wait’s going to be at least an hour.”

That’s what one of the guides said to me at the Met when I inquired about the insanely long line to see the exhibit Michelangelo: Divine Draftsman and Designer. I almost left without seeing it. Almost. But then I remembered my commitment to say yes more often in 2018 (even though it was still 2017.)

So I wound my way through multiple gallery spaces and parked myself at the very end of the line. I knew it would be crowded; I doubted I would be able to get up close to the pieces. And that was okay with me. I just wanted to be in the presence of the work. So I waited. For about 10 minutes, not even close to an hour, and then I was there. The first part of the exhibit was crowded but I was able to get up close to the work in many of the galleries. Very close to it.

“Yes, I’ll stay in line” was the right answer.

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Toward the end of the exhibit, I came to this placard. It’s short story hit me right in the gut. I audibly gasped. To give the illusion of perfection, to hide his process and his struggle in his work, Michelangelo burned many of his sketches. He wanted people to think his talent was effortless and god-given even though it was far from it.

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Think of all that lost work. Think of everything we could have learned if he hadn’t been so concerned about the illusion of perfection.

I sat there in the middle of the exhibition and thought about how afraid we all are to show our stumbles and missteps, how we savor the performance and cringe at the endless practice it took to get there.

When I left the museum, I turned and looked back at the building in the cold, dark night. I was so glad and grateful to be able to come to this museum any time I want, to live in a city that build castles to creativity. And as I looked at the Met, I thought about how much art has changed my life. And how much effort, how much beautiful effort, it takes to be an artist of any kind.

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What if we could all commit to being a little more authentic, to sharing when we’re lost and confused and unsure of how to proceed, to asking for help? What if we could be okay with admitting failure and defeat because accepting them while not being discouraged by their existence gives us resilience and confidence? Imagine what we could learn, what we could inspire, and what we could teach others in the process. I say, yes. Let’s.

creativity

A Year of Yes: Show your work – a lesson from Matisse

Pentimento is Italian for “repent” though its colloquial meaning in the art world is a bit closer to “show your work”. If you look at a number of Matisse’s drawings, you can see that he left his erasure marks so that we can see where and when he changed his mind and how often it took him multiple tries to get his work exactly the way he wanted it to be.

When I look at the path of my life, I see many pentimentos, places and traces of changing my mind, trying something new, exploring, and traveling in a new direction. Like Matisse’s sketches, you’ll see the marks if you look closely enough. And that’s okay with me. I don’t erase the mistakes of my life; I just re-arrange them. I put them in perspective. I try very hard to learn from them and be a better version of myself as a result of having lived through them.

I hope that as we begin a new year after what was a very difficult one, we’ll find a way to take a page from Matisse’s book. Let’s make use of our collective pentimentos so that we can craft a much better future together.

creativity

2018: A Year of Yes

My 2018 resolution can be summed up in one word: Yes. My friend, Ria, recently told me about an article she read in which the author explained that when you commit to saying yes, your day ends up in a completely different place than where it started. And I’m all for that. Yes to:

    • adventure
    • travel
    • learning
    • passion
    • creativity
    • exploration
    • joy
    • opportunity
    • community
    • building a better city, country, & world
    • kindness
    • helping others

I’m going to make 2018 the best year of my life so far in every way. And I’m going to lift others as I rise. We’re doing this.

creativity

In the pause: Love your decisions

“The more you love your decisions, the less you need others to love them.” ~Unknown

Yesterday, Phineas decided it would be a good idea to roll in goose poop. It wasn’t. Or at least I didn’t think this was a good idea. However, he loved his decision so much that he didn’t care about whether or not I liked it. He proudly marched through Central Park like he was a king. He made me think of the quote above. And though I wasn’t thrilled with having to clean him off with hand sanitizer in the park, followed by a bath once we got home, I do admire his confidence in his choices.

creativity

In the pause: How to make today count

“Each morning, we are born again. What we do today is what matters most.” ~Buddha

I’ve been a little wrapped up in the activity of the weekend, some of it good and some of it not-so-good. I had a bit of day, as they say, whoever they are and they would be right. The thing is, we’ve got to do our best to let it go. I am the queen of hanging on so I understand that this is a tall order. Let it go. Exhale it. Stop worrying, thinking, churning, and obsessing over what doesn’t serve you. I get it. Yes, we’ve got to let it go, and it’s very difficult to do that.

So what if we did this, instead? What if we just promised ourselves to learn from it? What if we paid forward the experience to our future selves? What if we could accept the idea that “tomorrow I’ll do better” is enough? I think it’s worth a shot.

creativity

In the pause: I’m glad to be a turtle in the race of life

I’m glad to be a turtle in the race of life. Slow and steady progress makes the wins sweeter and the journey more interesting.

Last week, I wrote about the value of age diversity in the workplace. This weekend, I read this amazing article about Dr. John Goodenough, a 94-year-old scientist who is on the verge of inventing a battery that could turn the way we power our world on its head in a good way. In the very best way. In a way that replaces fossil fuels, and drastically reduces the cost of energy to our wallets and to the environment.

The article goes on to talk about the successes that so many people, particularly patent-holders, find later in life. And by later, I don’t mean their 40s. I mean their 50s, 60s, and beyond. In an age where we find ourselves obsessed with 20-under-20 and 30-under-30 lists, I’m embracing all that is beginning to bloom in my life now and all of the blooming that’s destined to find all of us in the decades ahead. The data shows that the best is yet to come, and I believe in data.

 

 

creativity

In the pause: Start somewhere

No matter what you want to do, there’s a real power to be found in just starting. You don’t have to know what you’re doing. You don’t need a grand plan. All you need is a little time and a desire to try. Just pick a place and start. You’ll learn as you go. You’ll figure out what works and what doesn’t. Experiment, have fun, and remember why you started. One step, one day at a time.

creativity

In the pause: It’s time to put the past in context

“The past is a place of reference, not a place of residence.” ~Willie Jolley

Yesterday, I listened to an interview with Chris Whipple, author of the new book The Gatekeepers: How the White House Chiefs of Staff Define Every Presidency. The books shows that many of the former presidents made many of the same mistakes that the current administration is making and often with the exact same reasoning as past administrations. Whipple said, “Presidents learn many of the same lessons once they take office, and unfortunately almost all of them learn the hard way.”

This interview reminded me of Jolley’s quote. While we can’t live in the past, it is so important to learn from it. And that includes are own past as well as the past experiences of others. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to forge our own path; being armed with information about the paths of others can only help ease the way. This is why mentorship matters. This is why reflection matters. If we can learn from the past, we have a greater chance of building a brighter future.

creativity

In the pause: The age-old question of age in the workplace

“Just remember, when you’re over the hill, you begin to pick up speed.” ~ Charles Schultz, Peanuts creator

My friend, John, shared an article in which he’s mentioned. Everyone of every age should read it. It’s about the value of older people in the workforce and that constant tug-of-war between young and not-so-young employees. At 41, I’m in that mid-zone. I call it the messy middle. Not quite young, but not quite old either. I would say my spirit, interests, and curiosity lean younger while my experience level and sensibilities lean older. Lately, I’ve been having this exact conversation about the messy middle with many friends of all ages.

One of the many great gifts in my career has been that in every job except for one, I’ve had co-workers that range from brand-new college grads to those on the doorstep of retirement and everything in-between. (And that one exception was a doozy that I’m glad to have in my rearview mirror! It stands as the shining example of what a lack of age- and experience-diversity does to a team—it makes it stagnant.) Nowhere was this age-diversity more prevalent than in professional theater. At 22, I had friends who were triple my age and then some. Their stories and experience taught me about life, work, and friendship in a way that I never could have learned if I was surrounded by other 22 year olds. And my youth at the time had something to offer, too—a new way of seeing and doing things that hadn’t been done before. These were my very first professional experiences and they have been the bedrock on which I’ve built the last 20 years of my career. That healthy, two-way respect between generations is a foundational element of not only my work, but my life. My friend group still reflects that diversity in age and experience, and I hope it always does.

My point in all of this is that everyone at every age has something to bring to the table that is different and valuable in its own way. We all have something to learn from each other but to make that learning possible, everyone on a team has to remain open to entirely different perspectives. Listen without waiting for our turn to talk. Ask questions. Walk in someone else’s shoes. Try to understand the other side of an argument even though it so directly contradicts our own. Ask for help. Offer help. Support one another. Cheer for one another. Celebrate every win and loss because each offers something we need at the exact moment we need it.

Let’s replace the tug-of-war between generations in the workplace and in life with a hug and smile. We can go further together.