New Year

Susan Finsen, Untitled 2

Susan Finsen, Untitled 2

I’m not a fan of resolutions – I find them flimsy and limiting. Trying to “solve” life or “re-solve” life is a perilous venture potholed with frustration.

I’m not saying you shouldn’t try to reflect over the year and evaluate (This year I liked. . . )

Find areas for improvement (I wish. . .)

Isolate the things that worked to redouble efforts for success next year (What if . . .)

Accurate feedback is helpful – possibly life changing. One small study found that people who write down their goals more often achieve them.

Yet -I’m making a case for following this year. Artists already know the power of following. Follow inspiration to see where it leads. Allow ideas to unfold and evolve. Watch your creativity and ask how you can help it. Rather than ironing intention into a sentence to stick on the mirror/fridge for future castigation. Balled up and crushed in the trash by March.

Resolutions are limited by self-judgement – powered by self-discipline. People who are good at judgement and self-discipline profit from the model. The rest of us must follow – our passions, our ideas, our “what if life was like. . . this?” I’m for drawing a picture in your head (or paper) of what you want, and following that.

If you have an ambition – what does it look like? If you have a joy, find its color and keep close. If you feel trapped, cut out a door. If you are aimless, craft an arrow.

To pictures of a new year and a long swig of champagne. Cheers friends!


Rudolf Herman Eisenmenger, Runners at the Finish Line, Silver Medal 1936

Rudolf Herman Eisenmenger, Runners at the Finish Line, Silver Medal 1936

Whew!  The week’s almost over and Friday’s finish line ribbon flutters around the bend. I hear the wheezing huff of fellow teammates pushing to finish deadlines. The flop of others who put their projects off until next week, pens tapping like seconds ticking.

But we still have a bit of time, so let me interrupt your programming to remind you of some obscure Olympic yore.

As it turns out the Olympic Committee did award medals for painting, sculpture, architecture and literature  from 1912-1948.  Artists weren’t too keen on the idea. The subject matter had to be sport and the competitions were held alongside sporting events. Imagine the feverish writing in the Olympic literary salon. Or paint splattered spectators in Olympic stadium. Surprise – not a lot of takers.

I imagine this picture above is a portrait of most artist’s reaction to the idea. A pack of panicked artists sprinting away, in droves.

Finally, in a fit of reason, the Committee converted the “competitions” to “exhibitions” for the 1952 games in Helsinki. But the few medalists from the brief, well-intentioned but frightfully misguided period were scratched from the Olympic games’ official record. What? Removed. Delete buttoned. I’d love to pull that move on my epic fails.

Where will you find me in the Friday PM pack? Panting to the nearest happy hour for a tall pint of bronze or maybe a glass of gold (chardonnay please).