The line opens. Ordinary art. Wonderful. And the beautiful photo conveys the wonder. It has taken work, persistence and intelligent self-observation for you to get to this point. Admirable. And what McManus says about the unconscious categories we accept is true, and baffling. Or it is to me. Because we do nothing of the sort when the endeavour is sport. A crook-kneed granny can throw a cricket ball, any kid can kick a football, and not only is no one daunted by the gold medal winners or cup holders, but the high achievers are celebrated unconditionally. Not only is a global win not felt as a negative comment on the game in the paddock, that game is seen as part of the effort. Which is exactly what it is. When half the town turns out for the round the harbour marathon, everyone is celebrated, no one shamed. The extraordinary includes the ordinary. Why the difference? Wouldn't it be great if the same applied to the arts?
Carolyn, I just love the idea of the run, the marathon with all of life's people, and the imagery for writing, making art: how we are all in the marathon, one step after one step. Jogging along, scribbling on paper, in all our colourful outfits, suffering, joyous, alone and together. Celebrated. And maybe also able to rest and chat and eat chocolate biscuits (that should be a definite feature of the writers' marathon).
The line opens. Ordinary art. Wonderful. And the beautiful photo conveys the wonder. It has taken work, persistence and intelligent self-observation for you to get to this point. Admirable. And what McManus says about the unconscious categories we accept is true, and baffling. Or it is to me. Because we do nothing of the sort when the endeavour is sport. A crook-kneed granny can throw a cricket ball, any kid can kick a football, and not only is no one daunted by the gold medal winners or cup holders, but the high achievers are celebrated unconditionally. Not only is a global win not felt as a negative comment on the game in the paddock, that game is seen as part of the effort. Which is exactly what it is. When half the town turns out for the round the harbour marathon, everyone is celebrated, no one shamed. The extraordinary includes the ordinary. Why the difference? Wouldn't it be great if the same applied to the arts?
Carolyn, I just love the idea of the run, the marathon with all of life's people, and the imagery for writing, making art: how we are all in the marathon, one step after one step. Jogging along, scribbling on paper, in all our colourful outfits, suffering, joyous, alone and together. Celebrated. And maybe also able to rest and chat and eat chocolate biscuits (that should be a definite feature of the writers' marathon).
Your weekly posts are a salve for my soul. 🙏🏽🩷
Thank you Toni. Salve is such a good word. Salve has texture, application, healing in the making. Ahh. 🙏🏽🌿
Beautifully written xx
Thank you Margaret 💛.