I love your advice about listening to interviews with actors, a way of collaborating across space and time. Isn’t it always the case that when we are feeling stuck or low with our work the antidote is to find connection with others, to bridge that space between things and reach for a hand?
"The whiplash of chaos." Good lord do you know how to hard-bake a phrase! To this piece, I share the following: I come home on the F to Bklyn, turn on my 1976 Pioneer Receiver with the sexy blue light, dial in jazz on WBGO-FM, and sit quietly on the blue couch and listen. Occasionally I turn on my lava lamp. That is soothing too. Peace to you, Ms. Rabin and all your friends who visit here. May you find silence and solace in the empty spaces. ––Ken
Jennifer - thanks for yet another stimulating, humanising, and humbling post. I find great comfort and inspiration in what you share. And I can’t help but say thank you for the wonderful tip of the hat to actors, their process, and their often misunderstood communion with each other. As it would happen, in every art gallery I visit, I end up spending the vast majority of my time with sculpture. I am always stunned by the synthesis of thought, balance, form, emotion, and what I assume is an endless supply of patience, perseverance, and DEEP listening on the part of the sculptor. I recently was able to visit the Musée Rodin - my first visit ever - and was brought to tears by his ability to capture in perpetuity what actors strive to share in flashes in the moments of their best work. Thank you for providing yet another piece that feeds and informs me. Have a wonderful holiday.
I love your advice about listening to interviews with actors, a way of collaborating across space and time. Isn’t it always the case that when we are feeling stuck or low with our work the antidote is to find connection with others, to bridge that space between things and reach for a hand?
"The whiplash of chaos." Good lord do you know how to hard-bake a phrase! To this piece, I share the following: I come home on the F to Bklyn, turn on my 1976 Pioneer Receiver with the sexy blue light, dial in jazz on WBGO-FM, and sit quietly on the blue couch and listen. Occasionally I turn on my lava lamp. That is soothing too. Peace to you, Ms. Rabin and all your friends who visit here. May you find silence and solace in the empty spaces. ––Ken
Thank you for these thoughts, Jennifer. What you write is obvious, but only after I read it. this calls for a second cup of coffee! David
Jennifer - thanks for yet another stimulating, humanising, and humbling post. I find great comfort and inspiration in what you share. And I can’t help but say thank you for the wonderful tip of the hat to actors, their process, and their often misunderstood communion with each other. As it would happen, in every art gallery I visit, I end up spending the vast majority of my time with sculpture. I am always stunned by the synthesis of thought, balance, form, emotion, and what I assume is an endless supply of patience, perseverance, and DEEP listening on the part of the sculptor. I recently was able to visit the Musée Rodin - my first visit ever - and was brought to tears by his ability to capture in perpetuity what actors strive to share in flashes in the moments of their best work. Thank you for providing yet another piece that feeds and informs me. Have a wonderful holiday.