Still thinking...

I really appreciate all the support, I truly do. I am referring to the kind and thoughtful comments responding to my previous post.

This morning I was lying in bed just before sunrise with the New York Times on my iPad. I was reading an amazing story of Auschwitz survivors, a guy and a girl, who fell in love in the concentration camp, and, against all odds survived. They planned to meet in Warsaw if they survived, but it didn't work out. They finally met again only very recently in New York City. What struck me was that they were artists. She was a graphic designer, and he was a singer. Their respective arts skills played crucial roles in their survival.

It got me thinking about the role that art plays in our lives.

Susan and I collect art. It's a little bit of a joke in the family: whether we are running out of wall space (we aren't). We don't have the means to invest in major league art. Maybe not even minor league art. We are both drawn to artists who create art that isn't strictly figurative, tending towards some form of abstraction. It's hard to explain.

I want to learn art appreciation. What differentiates good art? I distinctly remember being blown away by a Riopelle abstract painting that was absolutely stunning. There was nothing figurative about it. You can go to Homesense and find abstract works for $100. That 'art' may even be overpriced.

Susan and I typically spend quite a bit more for the art we buy, in the very low four figures. Definitely minor league.

The burning question is, what makes art good and worth owning?

The answer I have so far is basically unhelpful. My measure is that art I consider to be 'good' is art that stands the test of time. In other words, I liked it when we bought it, and many years later, the painting still works for me. 'Bad' art, tends to lose its appeal quite quickly. Like the abstract Susan and I bought when we were first married. We liked it when we bought it, obviously, but within mere months we began calling it the 'pizza'. The Pizza didn't follow us to our second apartment.

Back to this morning reading the New York Times in bed.

I went from the couple from Auschwitz to John Farago's column discussing the infamous duct tape banana sculpture by Maurizio Cattelan. Mr. Farago is an art critic with a serious international reputation. Really? A banana duct taped to a wall is serious art? As I read, I was beginning to worry that all abstract or cutting edge art might all be bullshit. How sad would that make me?

So I dug into John Farago, and that took me to the Hidden Noise podcast, and a panel he moderated about how modern art intersects with blockchain. Blockchain? Now I was really concerned.

It turned out that the panelists were really very interesting. Extremely knowledgeable and thought provoking. The best by far was Sarah Meyohas and her Bitchcoin project.

In the end, my early morning reading (and listening), far from convincing me that modern art is all bogus trash hyped by vacuous and pretentious curators and critics, definitely had the potential, when it was 'good' art, to inspire me, and could certainly stand the test of time.

So much for other people's art.

What about my art?

What about my posts, what about my videos? Are they art? To me they are. Do they pass my crude test of time?

I sometimes go back to read posts I've written, or to watch my videos. I expect to wince and cringe. Often I don't. I often find I still like things I wrote years ago. My videos are still crude, and aren't close to good art, not yet, anyway.

As I lay in bed I found myself editing a video in my mind out of the footage I shot over the summer and fall. I was beginning to feel inspired.

Susan and I discussed the question of good and bad art over breakfast. I now think that what makes any art form 'good' is the degree to which it conveys a message beyond the colours, the shapes, the strokes, the words, the notes, the tune, the lyrics, the scenes, and the dialogue. Like Take five, Dave Brubeck's classic composition that I fell in love with when I was a kid. I still pause and listen when I hear it. It moved me then, and it moves me now.

Now I need to find a path back to a place where I find the time to indulge the artist in me.

What's my excuse...

What's my excuse?

Truth is, I don't really have one.

There is no doubt that shifting from plain old posts to video posts, and changing this from a simple blog to a blog-cum-vlog really upped the ante in terms of the work required to post.

Perhaps rather than posting these thoughts here... I'll continue with a post. Maybe that will prompt me to get back to sharing my life..

[THE FOREGOING COMMENT ON THE PREVIOUS POST NOW CONTINUES AS AN ACTUAL POST...]

It's not like my life got too boring to share. Quite the reverse. A whole bunch of interesting things have happened, most of which are certainly begging to be shared here.

The fact is, that lately (by lately I mean for several months now), I frequently tell people how lucky and blessed I am.

Blogging began for me as a way of returning the favours I received when I found the inspiration and support I needed to begin a fresh chapter of my life commuting to work on a scooter. I thought someone like me might be similarly inspired to take a chance and start a new adventure if I shared my experience, so I started this blog.

Where am I now?

For one thing, as many of you know, I retired. Then I moved to Toronto from Montreal where I had lived my entire life. Then I slowly got back into the practice of law, part-time, as a means to make a little money that Susan and I could spend as we wished in retirement without a financial care in the world.

So how's that going David? [I seem to be interviewing myself now...]

It's going too well I'm afraid.

Care to explain?

My home office is amazing. Three computers, a new bookcase... it's frankly the best office I have ever had.

And how's your practice?

That's also amazing.

And there's the rub.

Since July I find that I am working full time. It's a blessing in some ways. It's challenging, rewarding, occasionally exciting (for the first time in a very long time I have actually been to court!!), and I am really enjoying it.

I admit it can be stressful, but ultimately in a good way. My efforts on behalf of my clients have been successful, and in one case I truly think that what I accomplished for my client ranks among the top five achievements of my career.

So it's all just wonderful great news, right?

Not quite.

This year, actually the last six months, while my professional work soared, my creative work hit an all-time low. As in zero, nada, zip, nothing. Well that's definitely an exaggeration. Did I mention I tweaked my home office? Added a new Billy, a Gnedby, some Ommlops, a new bridge, a remote, showcased my white porcelain flying pig in the way it deserves, bought myself a kickass new 27" iMac... there was some creativity involved there, don't you know?

But...?

Right. The creativity I promised myself I would pursue, like writing (I actually have a novel in the works that I was going to finish in retirement), sharing my thoughts here, making regular YouTube videos, well none of that is happening.

Let me digress, slightly.

Back in February, a day before Susan and I were to leave for a break in Florida, I took a tumble on my morning walk. Hit some hidden ice, crashed on my side, cracked some ribs. I still made it to Florida, but my exercise regimen came to a grinding halt. When that happens, when you break a healthy habit, it can be quite difficult getting back on track. I wasn't until mid-August, or early September, that I finally gave myself a kick in the butt and started exercising again. So far, so good.

In July I took a creative tumble. I let my busy professional life push all my creative work to the wayside. That sucks just as much as abandoning exercises. If life on the couch is bad for the body, foresaking creativity is bad for the soul. Or at least, I think it's bad for my soul. I need to claw my way back.

Hello. My name is David, and I'm a workaholic.

Hi David, welcome back. Take a seat at the keyboard and share some thoughts with us.

I'll try my best to take it one day at a time.