Archives for March 2019

When I was in high school I was taught not to remember anything that I could look up. Instead, I was taught to remember where to look. This may be good for information that has mass adoption, is easily documented, and never changes. An example might be a standardized mathematical formula, or physics equation.

But what if the information, or rather wisdom, that is only kept in people, difficult to document, and is not widely adopted?

If you have been given such wisdom there is a big responsibility that comes with that. You are a keeper. One who was entrusted to hold the wisdom of another. You were entrusted because you were deemed to have the good judgement to know what to do with what you have been given, able to respond to the weight of being a keeper, and able to identify and teach the next generation of keepers.

If you have found yourself in such a position, be encouraged, the strength will come, hold fast to the wisdom you’ve been given, and stay true to the work in front of you. It may not be an easy road, but it is full of good work.

Nobody should have the right to tell someone else’s story. Especially if the person in question is still alive. I know, it happens all the time.

The pressure of being knowledgeable creates hack spokespeople. Because of time, access, or other issues, writers, filmmakers, newscasters, find the person closest to a thing (maybe not the best) to make comment.

But I’m tired of getting second or third hand information of why a particular person is important, what their influences were, or even their inspirations or intentions.

Why can we just get the truth?

Even if the person themselves said, “I’m not really sure why I did that, I just wanted to see what would happen.” I would take that, over someone who wasn’t there, didn’t know them, and couldn’t have found out, saying anything.

If you don’t know, say you don’t know. Don’t make up a narrative just to have something to say, but isn’t true. Better yet, if you know someone who can speak more to the topic, get them on the microphone.

Ever since I was young, I’ve enjoyed sleep. Whenever someone asks me what my favorite pastime, hobby, thing I do when I’m not dancing is, I say, “sleep.” But sleep can be challenging for some, and I don’t have a perfect record of restful nights.

That said, a comment a friend recently posted reminded me of something that has helped me rest, and something that my parents shared with me early in life.

That is, “Whatever you do during the day, make sure you can go to bed at night with a clear conscious.”

Sleep is directly related to the activity of the day. If there is anything that happens during the course of the day that strikes me the wrong way, then my journey to sleep will take some work. However, if all my actions over the course of the day are reconcilable to the values I’ve been given to hold, then sleep is easy.

I remember reading that there was a time when some people believed that when you went to sleep, you literally went to visit God. Makes sense then (if you believe), that we wouldn’t want to go for the visit if we weren’t comfortable with what we had done. Better to have that conversation before the visit.

And then, there is grace.

Ideas are like children, they need food, rest, cleaning, and interaction in order to grow. It’s important for ideas to go through this process before you let them out of the bag. Hold them tight. Raise them right. Lest you see your idea out in the world doing something you wouldn’t want them to be doing.

Those who care for material honor its creator, tend to it for the sake of its longevity, and feel a duty to teach it well.

Those who consume material simply eat it up, and then move on to the next thing. In the moment, there may be care, but it leaves once the consuming is done. There isn’t a vision of the necessity of longevity.

Those who use material, leverage their knowledge of the content for a gain that does not serve the material in any way. They don’t care for the material, honor the creators, or feel any duty to teach it well. They only care that the material provides what they desire – be it notoriety, financial gain, or something else.

Those who use material are manipulators and for all practical purposes destroyers of culture, by nature of them breaking the connection between the material and all people and values associated with that material.

Those who consume material are benign consumers, they buy in, fill themselves, and leave. The harm done here is the perpetuation of a consumer culture, and loss of vision for the future.

Those that care for the material simply care.

Now, go back and re-read this while replacing the word “material” with the word “people.”

I was recently at a meeting of arts practitioners and arts organization leaders in the City of Vancouver that opened with a conversation from members of the three First Nations upon whose land the city of Vancouver has been built.

During the course of the conversation which traveled through many topics, including reconciliation, redress, symbolism, language, and more, one of the members said, as an aside, “We don’t have a word for art…”

I’ve been thinking about that statement for a while. If art, isn’t art, what could it be? It could be another form of language. It could be another form of expression. It could be another form of teaching.

Whatever it is, one thing for sure: art in its fullest form is connected to everything that there is about being human. This idea that “art” carries stories, histories, cultural values, ways of life, and information beyond technique and aesthetics is common for those who have engaged in any kind of oral tradition. Such an understanding brings to light the true power of art to change the world, not just through consuming and understanding, but through the engendering of values, lived through the activity of art-making.

I wonder what would become of the world if we reminded ourselves of this power and put it to use for good?

In a deconstructed world very little exists that should be taken for granted. Yet when we give and receive information, we often find it without any context (or minimal).

It’s worse for kids. They ask why, and we say, “because I said so.” Maybe the explanation would be too long and complicated. Maybe we don’t actually know the answer.

No matter the question, there is one thing we should be able to offer to anyone who asks us. Assuming honesty here, and especially when teaching. We should be able to, and always should, share who our teachers are (and were), where we learned something, and why that lineage is important to understand.

It’s up to us to share. It’s up to the listeners to take it in.

I recently saw an awesome performance by the singer/songwriter Khari Wendell McClelland. It was in an intimate venue, where the audience all seemed within reach of where he was on the stage, at all times. He began and ended his show solo, singing, without a microphone.

There is something deeply moving for me about hearing the human voice un-amplified. Same with many instruments (including tap dancing). The sounds affect me differently. I pay a different kind of attention. I am moved differently by the experience.

For me this true on either side of the curtain, as performer or audience member. While I gladly admit to the many benefits of amplification, I also advocate for the least amount to be used in any presentation.

In a world where electronics have become the mediator of so many interactions, I wonder what would happen if we changed the current trend in the performing arts. I wonder what experiences we would have if we stripped away the decorations and returned to nature?