Chance Encounters

I've been fortunate to have had a career which has given me the opportunity to travel around the world. Over the past 30 years I have traveled to both hemispheres and all continents other than Africa, all in the name of work, often luxuriously and always fast-paced. (Once, I flew all the way to Hong Kong just for the meeting which took place on the plane-ride over. I know, crazy!)

When the recent opportunity was presented to me to come to Scotland to speak, I jumped at the chance for a few reasons, though luxury was not to be a part of this trip! Having never been to Scotland, I was curious to see whatever wee bits time would allow. But in addition, I was interested in experiencing travel with open eyes, travel affected by neither a husband nor kids waiting at home, nor the broken heart which had wrecked my last trip, nor a lover to share it with, nor the temptation to stay connected to my Blackberry's umbilical cord. I saw it as an opportunity to, simply put, be present.

What an experience! No sooner was I in a foreign airport waiting for a connecting flight when I made a different kind of connection. I met a man who I suspect I will know for the rest of my life. As a person who rarely engages in conversation with the person next to me on a plane, I realized then that being open to the possibility of a chance encounter with a stranger was a whole new way to see the world, begin a new relationship, be present.

Aside from my scheduled presentation, I had no plans for my precious few days in Edinburgh. None. And so I just let it happen - the serendipitous findings of art, the getting lost, the impromptu meals with a wonderful new friend willing to take me under her wing, the awareness of being terribly alone and sometimes lonely in a city teeming with people, the celebration of Scotch and raucous music by myself in a whiskey bar, the intoxication of conversation and wine with someone new.

Having recently seen "Eat, Pray, Love", I couldn't help but compare some of the situations depicted in the film with my little experience. There's no book to be written from my trip, but some pretty profound realizations. Ansel Adams said of photography, "Chance favors the well prepared", and I believe that the same holds true for life in general. Being prepared for, or open to, the chance encounters of life is in great part a matter of staying present. It's taken a while, but I think I'm getting it.

To Be of Use

To be of use: It is an age-old internal dilemma that many people face, to feel that they are leading a purposeful life, and it is one which many artists grapple with on a daily basis. The pursuit of art can be seen as an indulgence, a retreat from "real life", a drive to create objects or experiences of "no use".

Knowing of this internal conflict within many artist friends, I was struck today by two supreme and conflicting examples of the "use" of art, both by UK ceramic artists, both flaunting convention.

The knowledge of history and tradition in ceramics is obvious in Julian Stair's work. Apparently, earlier in his career, he created ceramics which were abstract and had nothing to do with function, yet had to be seen in the round, in reference to the principle of centering inherent in traditional thrown ceramics. Today Stair creates forms which are completely functional in nature, yet never meant to be used, but rather worshiped, revered, objectified. When I saw his tea bowls and teapots today at the Scottish Gallery, I at first mistook them for simple pieces. Then I looked more closely at the forms, at his purposeful placement, at the masterful use of different clays and slips to express individuality, at the carefully formed pedestals, and realized that Stair was using forms of use to tell a different story, to tell of a language of generations of humans creating by hand. So, the "use" of these pots was very different than the easily identifiable functional form. Interesting!

Then I walked to the Open Eye Gallery and encountered the work of ceramicist John Maltby. Although trained in traditional pottery techniques, Maltby clearly uses ceramics to tell a story in sculptural form. His dreamy enigmatic figures seem to delve into the world of the subconscious and imply dreams, memories, desire and hope. There was not a functional piece to be seen in the show - no pots, no cups - yet as the work transported me to a quiet state of mind, I was struck by the terribly important function of this work. Here I was, in the middle of Edinburgh which is and was teeming with thousands of visitors for Festival and the bank holiday, with noise and music and performance and ruckus EVERYWHERE, and John Maltby had created a zone of magic and wonder.

I suppose this all comes down to the definition of "use", but these two encounters provided ample justification - as if it was needed - for the transformative nature, and purpose, of art. Thank God for artists!

Design It Just the Way I Want, Please

The urge for originality and customization seems to be as inherent in people as is the conflicting urge to follow a crowd. And yet, this desire for customized product, whether in a work of art or in a culinary creation is often in conflict with the desire of the originator. The changed Web 2.0 world of today puts so much in the hands of consumers, giving them/us the ability to choose what we want. Ultimately this request for customization is one which we in the art world are hearing more and more of from customers. While it is clearly an artist's decision whether or not to alter his/her original conceit to the desires of a customer, I wonder how many artists are actually far more interested in creating customized work than might be obvious?

Time and again I have witnessed Julie Powell, a friend and very talented artist who works in beads, accomplish that magical combination of retaining her vision while creating a custom work for a customer. The bracelet shown is one example of that - a bracelet inspired by one of Julie's original pieces and customized to the colors and desires of the customer. Julie is not a pink person, and probably never would have been inspired by the particular blouse belonging to this customer. But Julie's eye, her talent, and her vision enabled her to think beyond her comfort zone and create a piece which is pure Julie, and absolutely delights the customer!

Separately but related, a few months ago I was amused that the website CoolHunting.com had cited Keds sneakers as something "cool", as I've never really understood the mass appeal of these iconic sneakers. Clearly I was in the minority, as the protests and responses to my remarks on Facebook about Keds were numerous. Now I have learned that Keds has sponsored a summer of art, "Creativity on Canvas" at the Whitney Museum, and one of the outcomes is customized Keds that customers design themselves and can have produced. Cool, indeed, customized, and artistic. Bravo for this corporate commitment to art and customization!

And They Call It, "Puppy Love"

I've been feeling a bit blue lately, nothing really big, just an accumulation of realizations and feelings as I come up on a year post marriage. Sometimes I can shake the blues on my own, and sometimes I know it's important to just let them be, process them and work through them so I can move on. I have tried various anesthetics in the form of people,activities, distractions, and substances, and many of them have been incredibly fun, but in the end, the feelings are there and I have to deal with them. And I am.

And then came last night with a call from a friend asking if I could help her in a pinch by taking care of her dog, Oona, for 24 hours. Naturally, I jumped at the chance, and have found myself in an absolute state of calm and happiness during Oona's visit. It's not that Oona has made my blues go away, but her presence has helped me understand viscerally the way therapy dogs in healthcare environments make so much sense. Sometimes we mere mortals get caught up contemplating our navels, or fret endlessly about that over which we have little control, and the presence of a dog reminds us to let go and enjoy. Sometimes we humans don't realize that the grumpiness we're feeling is actually the longing for some physical touch, and petting a dog or being leaned on can provide that desired contact. Sometimes we need an excuse to pick ourselves up and get on with life, and a dog always needs to go out.

Call it what you will, the wisdom of the dog or the zen of nature. I call tonight a most welcome random act of "Puppy Love".

Spread the Love

If you know me, or have read my writing, you know that my cowboy boots seem to be a recurring part of my wardrobe and apparently represent a part of my personality I want to express. I don't think of myself as a cowgirl; I just like the way cowboy boots look and their sassyness, and apparently, so do many other girls and women.

Having always wanted a pair of red cowboy boots - always! - I pined for them as a little girl (just as a friend relayed that his 3-year-old did recently), continued for years to admire women who wore them , and finally bought a pair several years ago - and wore them one time only! I loved those boots but never felt comfortable wearing them - too flashy, too conspicuous. Why did the red ones feel all wrong but the multi-colored ones did not? I could come to no other conclusion than the fact that I know myself, and these highly coveted boots were just not me! One felt like costume and artifice, the other felt like home and me.

So, the other night a friend was over and admired the boots I had on, expressed that she had always wanted to wear cowboy boots, never had, etc. I learned that we wore the same size, insisted she try mine on, then pulled out the red ones from the back of the closet and promptly gave them away. The grin on her face was priceless, the boots had a new home, and yet another woman in her 50's could now express her inner cowgirl! (Those are her happy feet in the picture above.)

Sometimes I get chided for the number of boots I own and insist on traveling with and hanging on to for years; after all, they are only boots, and I am the same person with or without them. But the human need for self expression, whether through words, pictures, performance or decoration is innate, and when an article of clothing can fill that need, hallelujah! And when it's just not me, I'd rather spread the love and pass it on, without trying to be someone I'm not!

The Men in My Life

Last week I gave a party, a really big party in my really little house, for approximately 65 people. I insisted on cooking everything for the party myself, as cooking and entertaining are among the ways I enjoy giving to others, and this was a group of people to whom I really wanted to give a gift. Among the attendees were artists, friends, colleagues, and customers, and we all ate and drank and talked and thoroughly enjoyed ourselves.

Nestled among all the other party guests were three important men in my life: my son who acted as sous chef, my husband from whom I am separated, and my lover who had recently ended our romance. I was happy that they were all there together (though I made no effort to introduce said husband and lover to one another!)as they each mean a lot to me in very different ways and I continue to want all three of them in my life, though not in their former roles.

My son is no longer my boy, but rather a man working on making an independent life for himself as an actor. He has chosen a difficult career path, and it is not being easy on him. To see him at ease at this party, handling the multi-tasking kitchen responsibilities with aplomb, made me proud, and yet it was such a different pride from that I felt when he was younger. I am proud to know this man, to have an adult relationship with him, and to watch him as he experiments, succeeds and fails, all on his own terms.

My husband (since I am technically still married, though separated) wanted to be at the party, and it was wonderful to see him handling the situation on his own, particularly after the setbacks he has experienced from his brain injury. He and I shared many years together exploring much of the world of art, and as this was a night all about art and artists, I was glad that in spite of no longer being a couple, we could both enjoy this world which was equally important to us both.

And then, my former lover, from whom I have sufficiently recovered from heartbreak and with whom I am navigating the waters of friendship: why had I invited him and why was he there? While it is true that I had been crazy for him, and was deeply, painfully hurt by his rejection, I also know that I don't fall in love easily, and the love doesn't go away easily, if at all, for me. And he and I, too, enjoy the world of art and artists together, and hope to continue doing that in some way or form going forward. Did we smooch in a corner for a second and forget for a moment that we were no longer doing that kind of thing? Of course we did; the chemistry is still there. But the relationship with this man, as with the others, has also moved along.

I went home with none of these men that night. My former lover left, my son and husband helped clean up, and I went to bed - alone, happy, comfortable with all three relationships.

(Sculptures by Suki Diamond, ceramic artist)

Care for Her

I brought this lovely lady home from the flea market a month ago. She was calling out to me for reasons I could not quite explain. Perhaps it was her fabulous overalls and style. But more likely it had to do the message on this vintage poster: "Care for her through the YWCA." While the poster went immediately to the framer, I went to Google to learn more about the YWCA.

As a Jew, the "Christian" part of the name has always been an initial stumbling block, yet over the years I have learned about the "Y" , and that the YWCA is the oldest and largest multicultural women's organization in the world with a mission to eliminate racism and empower women. In the 40's women came to the Y for job training. Today, more often than not, women come to the Y in times of crisis, as survivors of rape or domestic violence. I didn't know this before, but this poster helped me find out.

So why write about it? Not particularly to show off the new art that is hanging in my bedroom, but more to express my gratitude for organizations like the Y and the Girl Scouts which have boldly worked to provide safe havens and places of learning and empowerment for girls and women. Since I am having so many conversations with women these days, women who are in the throws of change, who are looking for resources and guidance, I am learning that the need for safe havens and advocates for women is as strong as ever. Care for her.