Something Beautiful, Something Meaningless

Interrupting Capitalism With Beauty:  I find that being a parent in commercial spaces is stressful. Kids want to play, proprietors want people to focus on buying things and are very protective of their spaces and wares. The other night, I was in goodwill will my son, age 6, and something cool happened. We were looking at costumes, when a little girl popped up in the middle of the rack. She was present and aware, and interested in her view from there. Her parents were rushing inconspicuously over and getting ready to shoo her down, when I sent my son in to join her. He quickly scaled the interior of the display, and popped up next to her to say hello. The faces of the girls parents, who had just arrived, eased into relaxed smiles. They were visibly and energetically less stressed, because now they knew that their daughter was not going to be targeted for disrupting the peace. The kids had a jolly peaceful 5 minutes up there, and then happily climbed out without a struggle. I dubbed this incident, Interrupting Capitalism, because often capitalism interrupts the natural curiosity of children, and effects their brains and bodies in adverse ways. When they are encouraged and allowed the space to explore, there is less harm done. If they had been taken out of the rack, there could have been some bad energy and then the trope of the whiny child in the store would continue to be reinforced, but this was a chance to work on that image. 

Nothing Has Meaning Like Memory:

I chose to take five minutes to make something meaningless. I took the first random things in that time and spent some time marrying them. I considered formal attributes. I chose words by picking up a paper and opening it and ripping out the first thing I saw. One of the random things I played my eyes on in that time happened to be a memory box, so I took it. Then there was a canvas board on the ground where I sat with the box. I picked the paint that was sitting near me as well. All in all, none of these objects or ephemera have importance to me, and I don't even have a reason for having the canvas board or memory box in my house....memory does not serve me when trying to conjure up when and where I acquired them. The meaninglessness will invade if allowed to, so make with intention, make meaning that means something.