Author: Wayne Slingluff

Joy of Surprise

Many times in my life I have purposely tried not to overprepare. Careful planning and study can dull the joy. At least for good things, I have always appreciated surprises .

Now that I began drawing again., I have gone through the usual process of learning to be an artist. At first I was overwhelmed and fearful at making “mistakes”. Then with practice, I was able to concentrate on the general shape of what I was trying to do .

The true reward is beginning to arrive after 6 months of mostly concentrated effort. Some of the things I do are once again surprising me. My intuition kicks in and spontaneously adds a doodle or line, which turns out to be quite interesting. My hands almost guide themselves as I pay more attention to the general vision of what I want. And at some point, as I finish up, I am happily surprised at the result. At least some of the time …

When folks speak of becoming like a child, they often mean being able to play. Surprise is a part of that. I merely extend that to utilize it in other areas of my life .

These days it is much too easy to know (or think we know) too much. Sometimes, ignorance can truly provide bliss.

Matisse

I suspect most people walk into a room, glance around, and when they find nothing threatening nor astonishing, begin to concentrate on whatever purpose at hand. I myself tend to ignore most wall decorations out of rush and habit. And, after all, paintings are really just simple wall decorations.

That’s why I like Matisse. Unlike artists who wish to make us look, try to change our character, to disturb the bourgeois, or to follow some obscure vision, Matisse accepts being a relaxing wall decoration. A beautiful and amazing wall decoration, to be sure, but no more than that.

Matisse is no simple artist. His pictures do reward long and deep study. There is always nuance in the deceptively simple presentations. But if you do not feel the nuance, his paintings are also just lovely background. A lot like nature itself .

I admit a preference for bold colors and strong drawing which he consistently delivers. Blended subtlety must be left for others. His work is usually joyful, exuberant, and makes one smile when it is noticed .

In a world of acid religions, societies, and politics, it is refreshing to contemplate his world of “lux, calme, et volupte.”

Barbarians

The Greeks called those outside their linguistic tribe “barbarians” because their language sounded like “bar bar bar” (or “blah blah blah”) nonsense. The name stuck for anyone not abiding by the “civilized” rules _ implicit and explicit _ of any given society. Being a barbarian is in the eye of the beholder .

“Uncivilized” attitudes and behaviors from those within a tribe are more difficult. For the most part, that comes down to ignoring laws and customs and saving a special treatment (good and bad) for friends and family. Living and possibly ruling by petulant whim .

Obviously not all barbarians arrive from “outside” like Attila the Hun. Internal monsters and their gang are frequent interruptions in “the march of progress” which includes peace and prosperity. More importantly, civilization implies a stable or rising economic framework and basic security for its members.

Once a barbarian clique gains power, it is difficult to dislodge, since it uses all the leverage of the state to maintain position. It seems most such situations are resolved more by internal squabbles and knives than by anybody legally replacing them. And on occasion a violent revolution. Or, of course, outside invaders.

The best hope for those trapped in a culture captured by barbarians is to lie low and hope they quickly eliminate each other .

Coda

July 4th was a family gathering, senior generations, young adults, grandchildren. As the younger folks spoke of ambitions, hassles, fears and the future, the elders reminisced about what had been and how magically much of life had happened .

Then the party ended and we elders went back to whatever normal lives we each inhabit. And I realized that in this culture – at least for the more fortunate – old age is a kind of coda on reality .

Finally we are free of admonitions about what to do, what we must do, especially what we are supposed to do. Mostly the young – even as they love us dearly – want us to stay out of the way as they race along their narrow paths .

Earlier, that was somewhat frustrating, as we were used to racing ourselves. But sometime in our late ’70s, life truly slows into rocking chair time at least for stretches of our days, however much we may regret it .

And what we learned at the party was to pull out the old memories and nostalgia and personal tales, since it is as raconteurs that the young treasure us most .

Blame Game

All revolutionary, authoritarian, mob rule movements eventually come down to blaming someone else for your problems. MAGA voters are no different .

Once it was aristocrats, or Jews. Now it is illegal aliens who are responsible for crime, minorities who keep you from getting a good job, conspiracies which keep prices up, evil elites who burden good people with rules, fiendish Chinese who enable drug addiction. And on and on .

There’s a lot wrong with the world, and enough blame to go around. Now the populists are in power, rampaging like the directorate of 1793. No one and nothing is safe. There MUST be a simple fix to complex problems. SOMEONE is preventing us from using it .

But since the election, none of the cultists seem to ask: is crime down, are prices lower, are jobs better, does the future seem brighter, has anything actually improved in day-to-day individual life? The standard answer for all leaders in such a fix is “we have not gone far enough.” Punish more enemies. Check if they hide among your acquaintances, friends, family. Roll out the guillotines, send professors to the farms! Double down on what we are sure will work, somehow 

It’s an old and continuous disease of every civilization that ever existed. We’ve never found a vaccine, cure, or antidote. Just plain human nature, I guess .

Impenetrable

There are many things I do not know nor understand. Some are too complex for my humble brain. Some simply do not interest me. Many I am too lazy to waste time on. But a few  have become truly impenetrable .

To me, impenetrable carries a different connotation than “unknowable” _ an article of faith. I accept many things as unknowable – the meaning of life, the purpose of the universe – and most of the grand religious philosophic questions like free will and the true nature of time. Impenetrable rather means that something may have reasons, but they cannot be discovered by me. The best example is other people’s hidden motivations. 

The boundaries between impenetrable and unknowable are tenuous and shifty. Which gets to my main focus of this essay: the future. I always accepted its details as unknowable, but I thought I understood the basic outline.

Nope. Now everything is both unknowable and impenetrable. Next year seems a gray goo, with no connection to the present. I can project no trends .

That annoys me because as an avid SF reader from childhood and student of history still, I unaccountably convinced myself I had some idea of what was happening and where the world might be going .

No more .