A few thoughts on storytelling

In my field I hear the word storytelling a lot. What is it exactly? Storytelling is a verbal journey that a companion or complete stranger is able to lead us on. It's a tool to connect us all - regardless of creed, color or background - on a human level. The deepest level. It makes us realize that we're not all so different.

In November I was working on a brand redesign and thought that the identity would be so much stronger if the founders of the business would tell their story. How did the business develop, what is their inspiration and what were the challenges they faced? Every business in the world should be this transparent if they want to reach their potential customers on the deepest level. Stories stick with us, effect us, and change our behavior.

I'm fascinated by the way my experience of places changes once I know the story behind the walls. I want to create a platform for people of Madrid to be able to share their stories, and I'm sure they have lots of them. The site will be place-based and, ideally, it will point out that our surroundings are more connected to our life stories than we may realize.

There are a few precedents that I enjoy very much for different reasons. I've written about Jonathan Harris' creation, Cowbird, here, and here is the story that I contributed to the site a few days ago. The 'saga' is the defining principle of Cowbird, which for now the only one being Occupy Wall Street. Further down in the site hierarchy there are many other defining principles; people, relationships, subject tags, loved, etc. This is a layered and complex site, but SO beautiful and easy to navigate.

The stories are gorgeous and touching. Harris has given artists, poets and journalists a safe space to express their otherwise private moments. The website is turning into a smorgasborg of love, pain, longing and curiosity. There is this great capability of adding sound to the story as well. Something that this author has done really well. I feel so comfortable contributing to the site because I know that the most important thing is that my contribution comes from my heart.

Before I moved to Madrid, over the past year or so I noticed this 'pod' outside of City Hall ('pod' being a term from one of my architecture-ish classes).

Designed by Local Projects, a design studio in NYC, Storycorps booths give people the opportunity to sit down and record their life story in forty minutes. Especially significant because of the ten year anniversary of 9/11, many of the stories were from family of the victims who used the opportunity to connect others with the memory of their loved one.

Local Projects works on a plethora of storytelling projects, including this video for Stone Barns and this platform for people to tell tales of their center of town. As long as it's called "Main Street" people can submit photos, audio and written accounts of what happens on their Main Street. Local Projects is a studio of master storytellers with the ability to create meaning from a conversation, and to turn a conversation into an event. They call these projects collaborative storytelling, and it's very interesting to me that the most important aspect of their success lies with other people's ability to listen.

New York Writes Itself is a 'production' about New York by the people of New York. As they say, you can't make this shit up. The 'script' is an running Twitter-ish feed of random contributions from people all around New York City. I like the brief format with a steady stream of updates, and love the tone of the site (I mean, just check out the chairman), but I wish there was more imagery - there would be some really good photos to complement the anecdotes of the city. This site definitely has the cool-factor, and the theme capitalizes on NYC being the film-making capital of the world. I also enjoyed seeing the recent collaboration with letterpress artists recently shown at the Art Director's Club.

So what is all this? It's not about advertising, branding or selling products. It's about finding what is most important in each of our individual lives, maybe understanding each other and our environments a little better, and possibly restoring some of our faith in humanity.

Flux/S, Richard Galpin and Joseph Beuys

Flux/S took over an open urban space at Strijp-S in Eindoven that looks otherwise unappealing to do some pretty fantastic activities. Let's see, there's an open symphony (everyone brings their instrument and starts playing), hula hooping, twister, and other play date favorites.

This is the third edition of the arts festival and they chose this spot in response to recent developments. This reminds me of similar festivals in New York that I've talked about in recent posts on psychogeography, except this festival has a unifying principle. It is a commentary on the meaning of public space in our cities, and one of their main intentions is to start a dialogue. I, for one, have had many philosophical arguments about urban design while twisting myself into a knot on a large dotted mat. But seriously, I get it. I think the intentions behind this festival are strong, and reminiscent of the original political and social rebellion that was the intention of the Situationist International and Fluxus movements. Artbomb, above, is a good example of their quietly aggressive protest, and the festival itself feels like a collective demonstration by visitors and residents of Eindoven who choose to participate.

How can we rethink our city environment, and how can art create an entirely new experience? One of the answers that I'm exploring in my work is - how can we create an entirely new experience with what is already there? Whether people themselves form the artwork, or their stories, or offering a new lens through which to see the city.

Artist Richard Galpin installed Viewing Station on the High Line in May, and I was in the middle of a project in Times Square to frame certain elements in the environment to "quiet" the experience and to meditate on your surroundings, so I was blown away by this. He takes the geometry from separating layers of photographic prints to create the abstract cut-outs. The actual view that Viewing Station frames is an interesting choice - let's just say it's only interesting through a kaleidoscopic lens like this. The power of this installation to disconnect the viewer from everyday reality and see architecture in a number of ways - by focusing on the abstract geometry, or blocks of color - is a novel re-combination of our familiar surroundings. And really friggin cool.

New York City is an open air museum, and I especially love when artists can push that further to make it even more of one. Not necessarily in a giant oversized sculpture way, or even the Sol Lewitt retrospective in City Hall park, which I thought was conventional - disappointing because I adore his work, but something subtle, that makes us take a second look. This happened to me when I was walking on West 22nd street with a few friends. I saw large naturally carved basalt stones, each placed directly adjacent to an oak tree. I realized later that it was Lynne Cooke and Dia Art Foundation's continuation of Joseph Beuys 7000 Oaks. In his words: "My point with these seven thousand trees was that each would be a monument, consisting of a living part, the live tree, changing all the time, and a crystalline mass, maintaining its shape, size, and weight. This stone can be transformed only by taking from it, when a piece splinters off, say, never by growing. By placing these two objects side by side, the proportionality of the monument's two parts will never be the same." 

The juxtaposition of regenerative tree with inert stone is a strong environmental message intended to shake people's consciousness, and he also wanted the work to grow and expand beyond its original inauguration at Documenta 7 in Kassel, Germany in 1987. The goal of this social sculpture was also give everyone the ability to create art by planting trees, and also to "extend the traditional role of the art gallery so the gallery extends out into the city”.

Joseph Beuys, 7000 Oaks. West 22nd Street between 10th and 11th Avenues in New York City.
Photo: Ken Goebel. From Dia

A psychological interlude

As my mind was racing last night after a whirlwind Christmas holiday, I decided to glance through my notes from the beginning of my thesis journey. Besides getting even more confused about what I want to do, I may have stumbled upon the overall meaning of my work.

I grew up in Greenwich, Connecticut on a standard parcel of land somewhere in the backcountry. We barely interacted with our neighbors, and my parents seemed quite content about that (they grew up in the bustling neighborhoods of the Bronx, so maybe the peace and quiet was ideal for them). On my road there wasn't a community in the sense that people waved to each other and chatted about their kids, borrowed cups of sugar, or planned holiday get-togethers. I didn't have a group of neighborhood kids that I could run outside and play with anytime. My brother and sister are ten and twelve years older than me, and they were off to college by the time I was eight. I grew up feeling like an only child, and even though I had a lot of friends from school, time for play dates had to be well-planned.

Greenwich is a beautiful town, but once I moved to the city when I was twenty-one, I realized how much character the streets, buildings and neighborhoods could have. Since New York is a very pedestrian city, I was constantly impressed by the street art found on the walls of old buildings, and hidden doorways and various nooks and crannies found in the older settlements. Greenwich, like most suburbs, consists of long main roads and shorter side roads, and you need to take the car to get anything done. While the town has a character of its own and I lived there for twenty-one years, it's not something I grew a strong attachment to.

Both of my parents passed away by the time I was twenty-one years old, and settling in the city was a way to grow roots somewhere. The city became a constant character in my life, and I've grown an attachment to it that I can't fully explain. Thus my intention with thesis work is to tell a better story about what I love about New York City, and to offer alternate ways to experience it. My attachment to the city's landscape and character has also activated a fear - the fear of losing anything that makes New York what it is, whether it's the authenticity, energy, or diversity.

The conclusion I finally come to after all of this thesis stuff is finished will have nothing to do with preserving the way things are, or nostalgia for the way things were. New York City is constantly being transformed - rebuilt and recreated by its people. That may be the thing I love the most, and the thing that makes New York City what it is today.

SOME THINGS THAT MY THESIS IS NOT ABOUT:
While corporations with out-of-place branding is deplorable in historic neighborhoods, that is not something I want or need to tackle. I feel that corporations like McDonalds and Dunkin Donuts should have flexible branding strategies for their retail outlets, in order to connect with the community and enhance the beauty of the built environment, but this is something that needs to happen at the top levels of management. Many neighborhoods welcome chain stores because of the economic contribution, or convenience of easily grabbing a latte, gadget, or cheap shoes. Only a few community boards will completely block chain stores from opening in their neighborhoods, and some will place strong restrictions on signage to maintain visual integration.

The greater issue is the lack of historical and contextual awareness of retail stores, but costs would skyrocket if research and attention to context were required for every outpost. The responsibility is with the corporation to make a meaningful contribution to the community they enter, and many already have policies for employee volunteerism and grant programs. In this new age of social responsibility, maybe every globalized behemoth will make an effort to integrate visually and also with their community. In fact, it may even bring in a new customer base.

Also, I'm not trying to place meaning where there is none. Branding is a giant industry that tries to create beauty from the banal; to create meaningful experiences from trivial ones. I'm not interested in making the everyday beautiful, just to understand that the quotidian is enough. I'd like to uncover the truth in what is already there, and find my own meaning in the city I'm surrounded by every day. Maybe once I find truths hidden in the cracks and shadows of New York City, they can be applied to other cities around the globe.

So there you have it - a quick psychological interlude. Also it's my personal context that helps explain where I'm coming from and the color of glass that I'm peering through.

Exhibitions and installations based on psychogeography

Of the two festivals that offer installations and performances roughly based on psychogeography, Conflux and AIOP seem to have lost a strong thread tying all of the exhibitions together. The individual installations and performances included in these events are only scratching the surface, but when viewed as a collective festival it infuses the urban landscape with experimentation. Conflux has more of a technology focus, and AIOP is mostly different groups of performance artists set up in different locations in the city. In one performance, a group of artists from the collective Flux Factory wear t-shirts with waivers printed on the back of them. One artist stands across the street and waves to someone walking down the street (they choose specific people to wave at - people in hats, boots, etc). If the person waves back, another artist on that side of the street stops them and asks them to sign the waiver on the back of their shirt. The performance is called Sign a Waiver. I don't know about you but one of my biggest pet peeves is when someone stops me on the street, to ask me something, hand out something, etc. I'm usually in a rush, being a New Yorker and all, and it bothers me that someone assumes that my time is not that important. If I'm meandering through the city on a derive, however, I probably wouldn't mind that much. Unfortunately I don't usually have the luxury of that freedom.

This brings up an interesting point about time, psychogeography and who really cares? I think it's fascinating that there can never be two identical psychogeographies of an area, because each person will have different memories and experiences in a place. However, who has the time to drift through the city, letting the contours and encounters guide you. The only purpose you have is to keep your awareness open to chance and circumstance and a sense of play and adventure. Is this aimless navel-gazing for jobless people with too much free time? Or is it something that everyone, even people whose jobs and families prevent them from having much freedom, would benefit from experiencing?

The concept of psychogeography is deeply rooted in the theory and circumstances of the Sixties. This new approach to the city was a rebellion against the "spectacle". In these days, the spectacle is more powerful than ever, so much so that we don't even notice it anymore. Many of these street installations are surface treatments of a larger issue that is underlying but not mentioned. Or maybe people aren't interested in making political statements anymore. The closest any of the artists get to making a political statement is Rebecca Nagle who stands in the middle of Times Square with a sign saying "I can't compete with this". She attempts to bring awareness to the increasing competing advertisements that make up the texture of our urban environment.

This project is interesting - the artist Todd Jokl proposed to track participants paths on a map of nyc. Each person has a hand-held GPS device that they use to check-in at every Conflux event they visit. The map he draws in the simulation is beautiful, the line quality is organic and each path combines to create this nice visual harmony. When you see the actual results of the project the feeling completely changes. It looks so unnatural and forced. There are 12 lines, some follow identical paths, and others just meander around the small space of the parks. Also, that shaky, natural line quality is gone. Maybe there were technical restraints to actually creating a path on Google maps but I would have liked to see the artist draw the path lines himself then. I'm struggling to see the purpose of this project, beyond trying to make a beautiful composition at the end of the festival.

I just played three of these gnome games and they're very addictive. The artist's name is Mateusz Skutnik and he highlights little known or abandoned places by creating a scavenger hunt for gnomes hiding in the structures and behind walls. His images are high contrast black and white, so very expressive and mysterious, and during the game an ominous melody plays in the background. The gnomes themselves are adorable and have so much personality that it makes me so happy to find them. This game makes me smile. Thanks Mateusz!

This is a lovely audio tour by Jeremy Dalmas that infuses the city with some mystery and adventure. He started in Golden gate park and by popular demand created an audio tour for the southwest part of New York City. You are meant to download the tour on an ipod and begin at the start of the tour. He takes you through back streets and down staircases, through parks, sometimes providing true historical facts and other times embellishing a little. He makes the experience of the street so intimate amidst the hustle and bustle, and even unearths some hidden creatures and forgotten stories along the way. The various music is a rich complement to his relaxing voice. The tour encourages a playful approach to the city and gives the participant a new sense of wonder while walking through ordinary surroundings.

oooooh! I'm starting to get it

Michelle also said something in our meeting on Thursday that made me think. How do I see this work entering the community itself? What do I see as the site-specific application of my abstractions, symbols and drawings? I just discovered a Brooklyn artist who places tape in geometric (mostly cubes and rectangles) shapes in the street environment. This is the description from the Art in Odd Places festival in 2008: "In a city made up of rectangular buildings, windows, and blocks the artist plays with a shape that is symbolic of New York City. In the attempt to draw attention to forgotten dimensions and overlooked layers, he creates reminders and portals with cubes that allow pedestrians to see the lines they are surrounded by in a new light."

Image from Art in Odd Places.

Aakash Nihalani currently has his first solo show at the Bose Pacia gallery and I'm actually so happy for him it's as if I knew him as a friend. I feel such a kinship and understanding of the work he's doing in the street environment, and he also has beautiful abstract paintings.

I'm putting together a presentation for Seminar class that started out trying to define psychogeography and it's really interesting to track the trajectory of my research. I started with psychogeography on Wikipedia. Apparently the term was coined by a man named Ivan Chtcheglov in the 1953 essay "Formulary for a New Urbanism". He was then banned from Situationist International (SI) and was eventually committed to a mental institution where he went through shock therapy and eventually died in 1998. It's horrible how fickle the SI and Lettrist movements were and there was constant turnover in the membership of both movements. Guy Debord seems to be the only constant name throughout, and also the only member with a full theoretical work, Society of the Spectacle. I read this book over the summer after finishing Naomi Klein's No Logo and was inspired by the lofty language and theory of the former while learning about case studies through the more practical language of the latter. Both books are essentially about the "spectacle" of contemporary society, and not having to accept the way it is just because that's how it is.

You can see the similarity in beliefs from the biography of Guy Debord on the European Graduate School site: "At the beginning of the SI movement their goal was to transgress the boundary separating art and culture from the everyday and make them part of common life. They theorized that Capitalism has the effect of diverting and stifling creativity, dividing the social body into producers and consumers, or actors and spectators. The SI saw art and poetry as a production by all people, that this was a way to make art the dominant power rather than having power rest in a small group of designated men. They argued for complete divertissement, and were against work. By 1962 they were applying their critique to all aspects of capitalist society, and no longer limiting it to arts and culture."

It also turns out that Debord was quite the heavy drinker and the SI movement did most of their theorizing in bars around Paris. Not the upscale bars that philosophers like Camus frequented, but smaller, seedier places. Debord tragically committed suicide in France in 1994, at which time the French press memorialized him after never acknowledging or recognizing any of his work before.

Psychogeography began in this way as a critique of urban geography. In the late 50's and 60's the French intellectuals and artists that made up SI were contemporaries to the Beat generation in the US. They rejected the traditional experience of the street, which they considered part of the spectacle itself with expressionless, cold modern glass towers. Le Corbusier was their nemesis because of his insistence on homogenous architectural structures and spaces that left little adventure in their chance and exploration. They proposed a more organic and spontaneous encounter with the city landscape. Debord describes the theory of the derive: "In a dérive one or more persons during a certain period drop their relations, their work and leisure activities, and all their other usual motives for movement and action, and let themselves be drawn by the attractions of the terrain and the encounters they find there. Chance is a less important factor in this activity than one might think: from a dérive point of view cities have psychogeographical contours, with constant currents, fixed points and vortexes that strongly discourage entry into or exit from certain zones"

Chance. That was the theme of the latest Art in Odd Places festival in New York City. It's surprising that this event (or series of events) is so related to the theory of Dada and Situationist movements but they make not one mention of it on their site. In the opening sentence of the curatorial statement they mention the word spectacle, which is an obvious nod to the work of Debord without literally saying it. As the statement goes on, they suggest that chance gives us the opportunity to move past our cultural conditioning to see the world in a new way. They aim to reveal undetected aspects of the city through performance and sound-based work.

Coming soon: a critique on this event series and also the Conflux festival.

Observation Journal Part 5

Observation Journal Part 4

Manhole Covers, The Naked City and Paul Klee

In class two weeks ago, I read a thesis from 2001 called 'Manhole Covers and Other Art Underfoot'. I was mostly interested in discovering how to create a thesis out of a concept so abstract. The author found that upon transitioning to a pedestrian lifestyle after moving to New York City, she began noticing and appreciating so many details in her surroundings. I definitely had a similar experience of waking up to the beauty of our city, even in the most banal everyday things.

'While the exotic may raise our eyebrows, it is the mundane that is truly engrossing, and from which the most can be learned. It is in the everyday that we find insights and miracles, in what's under our noses... and under our feet.'

New York City at one time was dotted with cast-iron foundries that produced everything from decorative railings, staircases, doors, building fronts, weathervanes, lampposts, boot scrapers, and manhole and coal chute covers. In the thousands of miles of sidewalks in NYC you can find the names of these foundries with handiwork from as far back as the late 1800's intact. Also, one of the most beautiful aspects of the Gramercy Park neighborhood are the cast iron gates surrounding the buildings.

It is definitely interesting that these manhole covers signify an old-fashioned time in New York City. A time when we burned coal for heat (oh, we still do that) and had to access the reservoir from downtown, and when there were many fine craftsmen available to make beautiful designs for our buildings out of cast iron.

The most interesting part of the thesis was an historical section that examined the Situationist movement and derive. The Situationist work focuses on the urban environment and it's interaction with human behavior. Derive is "a technique of transient passage through varied ambiences, one that entails playful-constructive behavior and awareness of psychogeographical effects." This is all so related to urban planning, and some of the articles I plan on reading for thesis research are within this field. I am only interested in this subject with regards to how welcoming a space is to bring people together to interact with each other and their environment.

It is so interesting to think that the experience of our place is so dependent on the maps that guide us. Guy Debord and Asger Jorn offer an entirely new perspective with 'The Naked City', a map of Paris that weaves together parts of the city based on their psychogeographic importance. In the map they offer an antidote to being "swept along by crowds... bound by an artificial imperative of speed... rushing toward sites of alienated production or consumption." It is possible to create a map for residents and tourists alike that suggests drifting through the cities backwaters to enjoy the sense of encounter, and highlighting unique aspects of the city beyond the standard tourist attractions.

This reminds me of a book I just read actually. I was lucky enough to get my hands on a copy of Paul Klee's Pedagogical Sketchbook (1925), which diagrams in detail the many points, lines and planes that are available to the artist simply from referencing our environment. In my Visual Communications I class with Professor Mark Sanders, one of our first assignments was to find a modular structure in our walk to class and create a pattern out of it. The concept originated in the Bauhaus philosophy, and more specifically Klee's philosophy "that rested on empathy with the created world, accepting everything that is with equal love and humility. As a very young man he had spoken of his art as "andacht zum kleinen" (devotion to small things)... Through observation of the smallest manifestation of form and interrelationship, he could conclude about the magnitude of natural order." This text is found in the devotional introduction to the book by Sibyl Moholy-Nagy, and in the concluding notes she quotes Novalis in the hopes that Klee's book will inspire others to:
"...give sense to the vulgar,
give mysteriousness to the common,
give the dignity of the unknown to the obvious,
and a trace of infinity to the temporal."

Inspiration from this weekend/Observation Journal Part 3

1. I picked up this Monocle magazine yesterday and fell in love with the style, layout and infographics. It reminds me a lot of Good Magazine - this style of information design is such a happy and upbeat way to represent statistics. The clean lines and simple shapes probably appeal to the organized side of my personality.

2. This is a take-out bag from a recent trip to Chipotle. It made me start thinking that so much more can be done with packaging and takeaway items from local businesses and restaurants. There could be more of a connection to the community - for example, a picture and story of a child from a local school and their artwork or story.

3. I was so excited to get an email with a link to David Lynch's Interview project. His son Austin travelled around the country interviewing 121 people in their communities, which results in a soulful look into the essence of America. The focus is on the individuals and their stories, and the interviews are structured in a way that they are able to really speak their minds. It is a beautiful character study - of the people and of our country as a whole. This is an image from the article in Big Picture magazine that I grabbed from the blog of Julie Pepin - the still photographer for the project.

4. Observation Journal Part 3
I'm beginning to understand more what I'm trying to find with my observation journal. I'm very interested in way-finding systems and methods - maps, symbols and images that help people move around in the least confusing way possible. Or I also just like when they're for decoration too.

How gorgeous are those radishes? I couldn't eat them because they had bacon on them but Dean said they were really good.

I took the photos in the subway because I thought it was so interesting that there's this cold and unfriendly sign called 'Neighborhood Institutions' - they list AIGA on there because it's the 23rd street stop. Needless to say, this system could be improved to make people feel more welcomed into the neighborhood. Also the posters tacked on the wall contain line changes due to service and construction but there are a few that could be used for community programs and events! What a great place to introduce people to the neighborhood and give them ideas on where to go.

Observation Journal Part 2

A few random observations

Last week I decided to start taking photos of random observations throughout the day. I'm spending a decent amount of time in the subway this summer with the commute to work every day. I might start trying to bike there so I can enjoy the outdoors a little!

Pursuit of Happiness

I feel that the last seven years of my life have been a search for the elusive 'happiness' that we all try to capture in a little bottle, to pull of the shelf and take a swig when we need it. Our assignment for Directed Research this week is to describe three pivotal moments of our lives that have led us on the path we are on today. I am on the path to become a graphic artist, and there are a few key moments in my search that have gotten me here:

Infographics I created to symbolize three pivotal moments.

One.
In 2002 I transferred to NYU to finish my undergraduate degree in Political Science but I was immediately impacted by the vibrant culture, street art and architecture of the city. Street artists like Swoon and Banksy expose truths about the political and corporate culture we live in and that spoke to me very much. I love how the integration of art with the crumbling old building and layer upon layer of posters and paint create a juxtaposition of old and new. Their beautiful illustrations, stencils and pastings collaborate with the building facade to engage the observer in an exploration of the experience of the street. Looking back, moving to New York City is probably one of the most pivotal moments in my life since it has provided inspiration and adventure for the past 8 years.

A Banksy stencil from last week in DUMBO. Side note: the quote on the bottom left was from a girl that wrote it with her lipstick while we were standing there.

Two.
Upon graduation in 2004 I decided to put aside my desire to save the world by becoming an environmental lawyer and discover the adventure of the screen and stage. I began an intensive study of film and theater, as well as body and voice technique classes. The study of acting is very much a study of yourself, since the actor's body and mind is the instrument - much like the guitar is to the musician. I also really enjoy character study, which requires observation of people and situations.

The films I am drawn to are controlled, meditative and searching for meaning in mundane reality. Some film-makers that made an impact on me at this time were Darren Aronofsky, French director Eugene Green, David Lynch's Mulholland Drive, Sofia Coppola, and Gus van Sant's Elephant. Many of these films confront the viewer to examine the limits of boredom, loneliness and beauty of everyday life. They test how much impact can be made with the smallest, most subtle actions

Also at this time I began the practice of yoga, mostly at Jivamukti, and most impacted by the teacher Ruth Lauer-Manenti. One day she told a simple story from Ananda Ma:

A wealthy merchant was traveling on business, and a thief decided to dress as a wealthy merchant and pretend he was traveling with him and steal his money. Every morning the merchant would get up and count his money carefully and tediously, while the thief watched on. Every night the thief would search through the merchants belongings, his clothes, his person even and could not find the money. This went on for many nights. Finally the thief could not continue in this way and he said to the merchant 'I have to tell you the truth. I have been deceiving you. I only wanted to come with you on this trip in order to steal your money. I have not been able to find it for all of these nights. Please tell me by what magic you have been hiding your money from me.' The merchant laughed heartily and said 'From the beginning I had a feeling you had these evil intentions. I hid the money in the best place I knew it would never be found: under your pillow.'

We search everywhere outside of ourselves for happiness, money, love, and peace. Everything we are looking for outside of us is already within. We don't have to look any further than our own person.

Ruth told our yoga class that there's no reason for people to be unhappy or dissatisfied with the mundane activities of life, because if you put your spirit into everything you do there is never boredom or dissatisfaction. Even doing the dishes can be a peaceful, happy experience where you simply focus on what you are doing and do not think of anything else. This is beginning to living a peaceful and fulfilled life when the smallest things are savored and considered just as important as the big accomplishments in life.

Three.
I learned perspective drawing in the summer of 2006. The insecurity of acting had finally worn on me and I began a job at momAgenda in the fall of that year. Needing to continue on the creative path, graphic design was the perfect blend of business thinking and application of artistic concepts. The Artists Way by Julia Cameron, as well as other classes over the next few years contributed to my development of artistic tools and the belief that I can have a career in graphic design.

These are two drawings I did in 2009 from the course Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain with Betty Edwards.

I'm on the right path now and feel good about it, and have since realized that always asking 'Am I happy?' 'Am I happy?' causes more unhappiness than just living my life and developing appreciation of what surrounds me.

"One of life's most fulfilling moments occurs in that split second when the familiar is suddenly transformed into the dazzling aura of the profoundly new.... These breakthroughs are too infrequent, more uncommon than common; and we are mired most of the time in the mundane and the trivial. The shocker: what seems mundane and trivial is the very stuff that discovery is made of. The only difference is our perspective, our readiness to put the pieces together in an entirely new way and to see patterns where only shadows appeared just a moment before."
-Edward B. Lindaman
Thinking in Future Tense, 1978