The Power of Tiny

Painting walks a fine line between meditation and inner contemplation...after this last Burn I dove straight in and sank so deep that I was a day late in returning my rental car (oops!). While there have definitely been meditative moments, on the whole, the process of working on this latest painting has been a very contemplative process...digesting internal experiences that took place for those two weeks in the dust. (my navel runs deep 😉)

Today I had a moment where a physical/visual occurrence dovetailed with my inner monologue (so it makes for a tidy example).

The painting I've been working on contains some blocks of letters on red. They are bold and stand out in a sea of (mostly) monochromatic tones. They are the visual equivalent of the grand gesture...and they were at odds with the rest of the painting...too bright...too much...to there...but I knew that they had to be a part of the painting...a part of the bigger picture.

This afternoon, I made a tiny gesture. A tiny visual gesture. I added five matching red shapes, the largest of which is no bigger than the fingernail on my index finger...and the whole painting just popped into togetherness.

You wouldn't think such a tiny element would have such a big impact, but it does. This tangible example mirrored what I have been mulling over in my head, during, and since the Burn.

So much in our lives focuses on the grand gesture (and don't get me wrong, I'm a huge fan, it makes for a good story) but what inspires me more is the tiny gesture...the tiny pebble that is tossed into a pond and the subsequent ripples that reach the other side and then reflect back.

Maybe some slightly less esoteric examples will paint a better picture.

I went to the Burn this year wanting, seeking the grand gesture, the epic adventure, the sparkle...and for the most part it remained elusive...

In a mid-week lull of whatthefuckisgoingonIwashopingforadifferentnarrative, a tiny moment presented itself. Not a grand adventure. Not a chance to have a magical make-out session under the stars, nor a letscommandeerbikesandgetlost or a letseatallthefuckingcandy* ...but rather a moment that said, stop, sit outside your tent and a small but worthy conversation will come your way.

It did.

Change radiated out from that tiny conversation and back in...

Tiny gestures...

Of course the power of tiny gestures goes both ways. You can take two seconds to pick up a mooped sequin or two second to brush off someone in need of inclusion...

I think in the face of big events (and there are so many happening around us constantly) we feel a need to respond with a big gesture, and we forget that even the tiniest act, can have a profound effect...

I guess what I'm really trying to say, is thank you, to all you bringers of the tiny gesture...you made my Burn... x

Biking Around the Road Blocks

Sometimes life throws things at you and you've got nuthin'...each way you turn you seem to encounter a road block. I've got a couple solutions when life sends me down a dead end. The first is dancing. 

While dancing is awesome, sometimes the clubs are closed and dancing around in your room just isn't going to cut it! That brings me to my second solution. Biking! 

Today was such a day, where I was again facing something that has (at least at the moment) no solution. I'm very good at falling down that rabbit hole where my mental wheels will spin and I won't actually get anywhere. When I feel that I'm falling into this trap, it's time to get the other wheels spinning. So, I put on my happy t-shirt... 

...and went for a ride.

While neither dancing nor riding actually solves anything, it does allow me to push a personal reset button...and now I want another happy t-shirt that says "Bicycle Doggy Chariots Make Me Happy!"

The Reluctant Cyclist

I am, without a doubt, a reluctant biker. It's not that I don't like riding a bike...or that I'm lazy. I actually love riding and have fond memories of riding on top of the wall surrounding a lovely old Italian town or being thrilled (and a bit terrified) on a mountain biking afternoon in Switzerland... It's just that here, in LA, I don't like playing king of the road with cars...

Fortunately for me, I'm allowed to ride on the sidewalk (or path to you non-American speakers!) However, this does pose a different set of problems...cracks that run parallel to my tire (or tyre)...forcing me into a groove I do not desire, blind driveways and the like.

So I've come to the conclusion, I think, that what I like and dislike the most about biking is that it makes me feel alive (and therefore also aware of my own mortality...) But, since it is my current, and only chariot (aside from my legs and feet) I am getting over my reluctance, exploring uncharted (at least for me) territories and enjoying the spring air, the scent of jasmine, orange blossoms and car exhaust...

* the picture is from the fabulous Lucca, Italy (sadly LA is not "quite" so picturesque!)