Humans are blessed with free will. We can do absolutely anything that we want to, for good, bad or otherwise. So how come we so often waste this time we have living? After reading Kurt Vonnegut’s book, Timequake, I got thinking about what it would be like to relive ten years of my life precisely the same as the first time.
I look back at periods of my life — hours, days, weeks, even years — and I don’t think I’d want to relive them. They weren’t necessarily happy, satisfying, or productive moments. They didn’t make my life or the lives of my friends and family better. They didn’t have any effect on the world.
Now, not every minute of my life has to have meaning or add value. I couldn’t handle the pressure! However, I think it’s good to be mindful of my time — to remind myself that I have free will and can be doing anything I want to. Do I need to be up at 3 a.m. watching a That 70’s Show marathon? Not generally.
How do I really want to spend my time at any given moment? It’s a question I will actively ask myself more often.
From Sunday’s post, you know that I’ve resisted buying a mango slicing gadget. It’s not that I eat countless mangoes, but any kitchen gadget is a temptation. I can finally be at ease with my non-purchase, for I now know how to properly slice a mango with an ordinary knife.
I’m reading Kurt Vonnegut’s book, Timequake, for my book group. It’s not a book I’d normally select, so I borrowed a copy from the library.
At the end of the opening chapter, Kurt quotes his alter ego, Kilgore Trout, as saying, “being alive is a crock of shit.” A previous reader illustrated the page with this pencil drawing …
I have to avoid kitchen supply stores, or I will compulsively browse for hours as I compare small appliance models against each other and handle every tool. My mom feels I have far too many gadgets than are necessary. Why use a salad spinner when shaking the lettuce leaves in your hands works just fine, she asks. I tout the usefulness of each item I own and boast that I don’t even have a mango pitter. After all, even though my kitchen is the largest room in my 950-square foot house, I don’t have unlimited space.
However, I sometimes dream about owning a sleek, stainless steel dish rack. More like artwork than a practical sink accessory, this dish rack can be displayed proudly on a kitchen counter at all times. I imagine the random crystal water glass, hand-thrown pottery coffee cup, or crème brulee bowl drying peacefully against its modern grates.
I’ve resisted the seductive power of this shiny bauble and have remained loyal to my rubber-coated, powder-blue dish drainer. I probably bought it about 15 years ago for my first apartment after college. After all of these years, it doesn’t even have a nick in its coating. With its diminutive size, it nestles perfectly within one bowl of a double sink and stores neatly underneath most any size cabinet when not in use. It is the perfect companion to my old automatic dishwasher that can’t handle all of the tableware and cookware I go through each day.
My many feet of open counter space already attracts too much clutter, so I prefer hiding the dish rack away when it is not in use. I don’t want to be constantly reminded of dishes in progress — dishes washed and waiting to dry, or dry but not yet put away. At any rate, my dishes are less grandiose than in my fantasy. My mismatched cutlery, ceramic coffee mugs, and huge plastic popcorn bowl would embarrass a gleaming dish drainer from some place like Williams-Sonoma.
I’ll stick with my trusty inexpensive model that encourages prompt dish washing without fanfare. Duty done, I can tuck my little helper under the sink where it belongs, next to my uncoordinated beige rubber sink liner and yellow rubber gloves (both of which aren’t nearly as hardy and have been replaced several times over the years). I see no need to upgrade to all that flash … at least for now.
December 7 is both Pearl Harbor Day and my mom’s birthday. Wanda grew up on a farm in Dassel, Minn., along with four sisters. She joined the Air Force after trying college for a year. While stationed in Battle Creek, Mich., she met my dad, Robert. My cousins thought they were so fun and hip. Everyone else in the family had children when my folks got married (my mom was the youngest). Mom and dad would breeze into family gatherings in their “exotic” Fiat automobile with Old English Sheepdogs in tow. They’d talk about living in Italy and their other adventures.
Even after settling down in Duluth with two kids, my mom maintained her same free spirit. She taught me how to be a strong, independent woman who could do anything I wanted to in the world. She’s still a cool, fun lady with a great sense of humor and a generous heart.
Happy 70th birthday, mom. I love you very much!
P.S. – For those keeping track, I finished the lemon cheesecake and my mom’s tribute book at 8 am this morning.
With a lot to do today, I sat down this morning and wrote up a task list — I even included time estimates. I couldn’t have been more off base. I started out well by getting my freelance work done in about two hours. The rest of my to-do’s have gone completely haywire. The culprits?
Go to scrapbook store – Browsed 2.5 times longer than intended to and spent twice as much.
Go to Target – Shopped in addition to picking up photos (and who spends just 30 minutes in Target anyhow?).
Make lemon cheesecake – Should have reviewed the recipe first to learn I needed five hours instead of one.
Make mom’s tribute book – Who was I kidding with this time estimate? After buying all the crap that I did, I’m already four hours into this with at least two more to go. I’m giving the book to mom on her birthday tomorrow. Ya think I could have started it sooner?
Go to Pilates and walk dogs – Skipped out of desperation.
Of course, I’m kicking myself for my gross underestimations and for doing things not on the list. I started out the day with good intentions, really I did! I’ll be paying for it well into the wee hours of the morning.
I just spent two-and-a-half frustrating hours trying to get digital photos uploaded to a local retailer so I can pick them up tomorrow. I generally keep online albums, but need prints for a special project I’m working on. I’ve never had any hassle ordering prints online for delivery. I was in for a surprise trying the pick-up option.
I first turned to my old standby, Shutterfly. I really like this site’s interface and editing options, so normally it’s a good choice. However, when I tried to select the Target store closest to my house, it was not listed in the store selector. I even typed in the store’s exact address, and Shutterfly couldn’t seem to find it. Arrgh!
I then tried ProEx/Ritz and Walgreens since they have stores even closer to me than Target. However, both of their online photo centers have terrible interfaces. I elected not to give either of them my business in protest.
I still wanted to give Target a chance, so I went directly to their site. They listed Shutterfly, Flickr and Kodak as partner options. I tried Flickr and bombed out. I don’t know if it was my browser or what, but I could not get the site to move beyond the “Are you in the U.S.?” screen (even though I clicked YES, YES, YES). Kodak ended up being the lucky winner. Their interface wasn’t nearly as good as Shutterfly’s, but I finally could pick my Target store, so I pushed the order through.
When you’re in the midst of such an experience, it’s hard to know when to just throw up your hands and cry uncle. I could have copied my photos to a USB flash drive, drove to Target, waited the hour for my prints and drove home in less time than I spent online this evening. I also could have supported my local independent photo finisher (they skip the online tools and just have you e-mail the files to them), but when I started this whole effort, I balked at their 3x higher price. Sigh. My time is worth something, isn’t it?
I never run out of artsy/crafty projects I’d like to try. However, I sometimes get so overwhelmed by everything I’m interested in that I end up not doing much of anything. Not good! So, I’m tackling my “dream-but-not-do” problem by focusing on a particular creative medium each month. I like the idea of concentrating on a primary subject area for an entire month.
(10) October – relief printing (linoleum, woodcuts, potato, etc.)
(11) November – reserved for NaNoWriMo
This calendar is not rigid. If I really get into something, it will be okay for me to keep going another month. Or, if I start something and decide that it’s not as interesting as I thought, I’ll move on. Plus, some projects may encompass multiple mediums. All good. This “workshopping” plan is to help me focus and not get so distracted. I think this immersion approach will be great fun!
I’ll post photos in my Flickr account of my projects and list any great resources I come across here in my blog. How about you? If you like this approach, what would your creativity calendar look like?
I love the printed word and buy lots of books and magazines. I’ve recently become enamored with a new medium — the zine (pronounced like magazine without the “maga”). Fans of the independent press will scoff at my discovery, as zines have been around in one form or another for centuries. Zines are not mass produced, slick publications full of mainstream advertising. They’re made by people like you and me on computers, letterpress printers, or by hand.
Like anything self-produced, quality ranges from sophisticated to sophomoric (intentional or otherwise). But you can find some extremely well-written, entertaining and informative zines that are available for just a few bucks. Publications are available both as stand-alone issues or published regularly and available by subscription. Topics are as varied as they are in the blogosphere.
Here’s just a few zines in my personal library:
CROQ – Published quarterly by Heather Mann, CROQ is written for crafters by crafters and covers the online crafting community, independent crafts, the indie business and DIY projects. I have at least 6-8 issues by now.
Bread and Salt – a zine of food history by Tim Miller (3 issues only)
Ker-bloom! – a letterpress zine that’s been produced bi-monthly for over 11 years; I own #56, which describes a 2-week bike trip from Eugene, OR, to San Francisco
Zine World – A reader’s guide to the underground press, including zines, books, comics, newsletters, one-shots, videos, posters, spoken word recordings, or anything else in almost any media on any subject — except music.
The Book of Zines – everything you want to know about the world of zines
ZineWiki – an open-source encyclopedia devoted to zines and independent media; covers the history, production, distribution and culture of the small press
Today I became an official member of Unity Church-Unitarian in St. Paul, Minn. The Unitarian-Universalist faith practice is quite different from my childhood experience, where I grew up in a Lutheran household and was a good little Christian girl. I taught Sunday school and vacation bible school, sang in the church choir, performed in motion choir (I’ll save that story for another time), and even went to a college affiliated with the ELCA. However, as I became an adult, I fell away from the church because it didn’t really seem to fit me. I even felt a little pride of my non-church-going rebellion.
In the last couple of years, I’ve been exploring what spirituality and faith mean to me — what I believe in today. This past January, I stopped dabbling and made a concerted effort in seeing if a faith community could fit me again. I found it in Unity. Today, I signed my name in a membership book that goes back to Unity’s founding. During the service, my fellow new members and I recited the Bond of Fellowship with the congregation.
Bond of Fellowship
As those who believe in religion,
As those who believe in freedom, fellowship, and character in religion,
As those who believe that the religious life means the thankful, trustful, loyal and helpful life, and
As those who believe that a church is a community of helpers, wherein it is made easier to lead such a life;
We join ourselves together, name, hand, and heart, as members of Unity Church.
- William Channing Gannett, March 9, 1879, adapted
I’m embarking on a spiritual path that will give me the freedom to determine my individual beliefs and to explore both the reality and wonder of the world. I’m excited about the step I made today and the journey that is to come.
December 7 is both Pearl Harbor Day and my mom’s birthday. Wanda grew up on a farm in Dassel, Minn., along with four sisters. She joined the Air Force after trying college for a year. While stationed in Battle Creek, Mich., she met my dad, Robert. My cousins thought they were so fun and hip. Everyone else in the family had children when my folks got married (my mom was the youngest). Mom and dad would breeze into family gatherings in their “exotic” Fiat automobile with Old English Sheepdogs in tow. They’d talk about living in Italy and their other adventures.
