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1 July 2003 (Tuesday): gift of sight
If I had a deity to be thankful to, I'd be thankful for that corner of my brain that occupies itself with noticing. Today consisted largely of moving boxes up and down flights of stairs, on about three hours of sleep, but what I remember most about it was that bit of ocean chill, catching me right on the cheek as I came out of the building, a breeze of perfect strength and temperature. The box-hauling went on into the night, and as I headed down the street to unlock the car, a bus pulled around the corner, the reflected green of the traffic light sliding fuzzily across its windows. Red and orange and white lights dotted the rest of the scene, against a backdrop of tree shadows and deep, deep blue sky.
I suppose the talent of an artist is to notice, as I do, but then also to express, to recapture in some other form: gesture, word, paint, pitch. The translation process is a mystery to me. How does sight become sound? Movement become clay? Sometimes I think I'd like to understand that more than anything else in the world.
posted by enjelani @ 11:41 PM PST
Replies: 5 comments
As toddlers, everything, EVERYTHING is the world is brand-new and we view it with the attitude of novelty. In time, that sense of wonder and observational hyper-awareness gets sublimed into the subconcious; by adulthood, most people ignore the tiny miracles that pass us by on a day-to-day basis because we've learned to take it for granted. Holding fast that sense of *newness* is a rare and wonderful gift; it is unsurprising to me that you'd be one to have it.
But that translation process ... how those observed moments gets shot through the lens of a particular person's perceptions to be reexpressed in an entirely different medium ... well it's a mystery to me too. :P
If you get any leads on an answer, do share! :)
posted by pjammer @ 02 07 2003 02:02 PM PST
Supposedly, one of the great joys of being a parent is the chance to tag along through that wide-eyed odyssey of discovery your child is making. But as an adult, you get a much deeper, perhaps poignant, appreciation of the discovery process the second time through.
It almost makes me want to have a kid or two. Selfish motive, that! :-)
Some of the most intense moments of observation (active noticing, as it were) I have ever experienced were on the tail end of brutal sleep deprivation. It's more of an emotional experience than an intellectual one. I don't think analysis was even an option at the time - but strong, detailed memories formed freely. Definitely the seeds of creative thought - but after some nice sleep!
Translation of form. Creation of art and expression... I'm not sure we're equipped to truly understand the process, but understanding it is certainly one of those basic intellectual cravings.
I have to suspect that the inability, thus far, of humans to wrap our heads around the creative process is the basis for why so many artists and performers to get really goofy and superstitious about their work especially as they get progressively more addicted to their results. I knew a most excellent jazz sax player who wouldn't go on stage without substantial puffs of Mary-J. He said he was afraid he wouldn't get the inspiration without it. But the inspiration came just fine off stage without it. Go Figure...
It's late.
posted by bill @ 03 07 2003 01:18 AM PST
i don't think we were meant to know everything. then again, we were granted a curiosity and the intelligence to gain the knowledge we crave.
posted by Liz @ 03 07 2003 09:46 AM PST
To notice, I think, is to find one significant observation among the many trivial ones, and to focus on it in a way that brings out its value. Don't know if toddlers are particularly good at this :) A camera observes; an artist and a scientist, in their different ways, notice.
Regarding translation to another form, a psychologist would tell you that sight does not become sound: rather, a sight and a sound may produce similar emotional effects. There are fewer distinct emotional experiences than there are stimuli; different stimuli may trigger the same experience. I don't know enough psychology to be certain, but I think that's basically what happens. Not the sort of answer you're looking for, is it ;)
posted by beefeater @ 03 07 2003 07:47 PM PST
Strangely enough, I have been having thoughts along similar lines, these past few days. Whenever I´m traveling through new places, as I am right now, I find that my observational skills are much heightened-- mostly because I´m not talking very much (due to the language barrier and traveling alone). I too am grateful for the ability to notice things, to revel in the quotidian sights and happenings which surround me. That´s part of the reason I love to travel; it´s so much harder to be observant at home, when I´m caught up in the frenzy of everyday life. Sometimes, when I´ve gone too long without finding this state of mind, I feel like an essential part of myself is being denied or supressed. Do you know what I mean?
My great frustration has always been with the ¨recapturing¨ process, the ability to creatively express what I have taken in. I desperately want to write, but only succeed (at least, to my own satisfaction) in extremely rare bursts of inspiration. I am somewhat more successful at capturing things photographically, but even in that my skills are amateur at best. However frustrating, though, my experiences have helped me to truly appreciate-- on a deep level-- those people I know, such as yourself, who do possess gifts of artistic expression. Most of the time, I am content to enjoy the fruits of other people´s labor... and as far as my own creative abilities go, I plan to keep trying. After all, the impulse or need to create is an essentially human one, whatever form it takes.
posted by Lynn @ 04 07 2003 03:57 AM PST