The Heart Of The Matter [on Merely A Thought Monday]

“Well, there goes wine and coffee…” I thought when I read the headline. At 100 Years Old, I’m ‘The Oldest Living Doctor’ – 5 Things I Never Do To Live A Long, Happy Life. I couldn’t have been more wrong. The good doctor’s advice is sound, simple, and sans finger-wagging.

Several months ago, Dwight started an important ongoing conversation: how do we live well this chapter of our lives? I recently read a quote (that I can’t re-find) that suggests we grow old-in-our-minds because we stop being curious about life and living. The quote speaks to the good doctor’s first Never Do: I don’t spend my days retired. His fifth Never Do is an extension of the first: I don’t let my knowledge go to waste. Bookends, encouraging us to stoke the fires of curiosity and to share abundantly our gifts.

Ann used to say, “Find a need and fill it,” and I suspect her good advice knows no age limit. Margaret, one of my great unconfessed inspirations in this world, makes quilts, makes meals, makes smiles.

Since our dinner with Dwight I’ve been paying attention to the many guides that populate my path. I am surrounded by people either approaching or older than the ‘age of retirement” who are younger at heart than most of the 30-somethings I know. They are fully following their star. Horatio is writing scripts and books and making movies, making art, and has an “ever-growing ” idea pile I call his “mountain of amazing things to explore”. Judy is painting and writing more beautifully now than ever, Rebecca is boldly leading people to simplicity, Master Marsh tends a section of the Calaveras River, plays music, and makes trouble. To be clear: they are not “striving to achieve” – a concept-distinction that Dwight has me pondering – they are engaged with life. They are rooting around on their heart path. Each is finding a need in others and filling it. My list of “those-who-inspire” could go on and on.

A moment ago my thoughts turned to H. He visited me in a dream last night. If ever there was a model for how to thrive in the last chapter, it is H. He sang with his barbershop quartet, was a lively presence in Kerri’s choir and famously rapped a song, encrusted in bling, at age 89. His enormous car filled two parking spaces and after expertly landing his machine between the lines, he’d pop the trunk and retrieve his walker. I learned early on not to ask if he needed any help. The answer is “no.” He died in his middle-90’s, boldly making a mess of new technology, stomping around in this strange new world.

All are embracing the good doctor’s 4th Never Do: I don’t restrict myself. It seems to me that all of the good doctor’s rules are encapsulated in #4: it is the heart of the matter.

read Kerri’s blogpost about 5 THINGS

If you’d like to support our writing and our work-in-the-world, BuyMeACoffee. Use the QR code or follow this link. And, thank you!

Reflect [on DR Thursday]

This reflection spiraled me into a fond memory. A long ago chance dinner in London with Jonathan Miller. He was kind and funny and took me upstairs to his studio to show me photographs he was readying for a gallery show. I could have talked with him all night. As I left he gave me a copy of his most recent book, On Reflection. Questions of reality and identity in the arts and beyond, explored through reflections. I had the book for years and lost it in a loan.

Reflections. I have crossed paths with many brilliant artists. Some, like Jonathan Miller, a single evening, a passing glance. Others, I had the good fortune to spend many years assisting and watching and learning from their work. James Edmondson. If I ever delude myself into the notion that my artistry is unique and truly individual, I only need stop for a moment and track the people who shaped me, who inspired me, who challenged me, who passed to me their traditions, who gave me an hour of their time to share their work and thoughts with me. I am a reflection of those many, many people.

My work in the world is made better by the reflections of Horatio and David and Master Marsh, people who give me their time by reading my work and sharing their thoughts. People who have jumped into my mad projects and made me and my work better.

I am the luckiest man alive. Each morning I get up early and sit next to my wife. We drink coffee and write. She edits my posts. We read to each other and offer advice or talk about word choices. I take her hand and bring her into my studio and ask, “Will you tell me what you see?” Lately, as I draw in pencil cartoons for work, she digitizes them, dumps them in Photoshop, cleans up my messes and makes them better. She makes suggestions. She offers reflections. She formats them for publication. They are transformed from my work to our work.

And, that is the secret I learned from my many master teachers. A unique perspective, an artist’s eye, is the blossom of many, many wise eyes coming together, expressing through a single moment, an opportunity. It’s all collaboration. Artistry is nothing more than a hologram of reflection.

read Kerri’s blogpost about REFLECTIONS

pax © 2015 david robinson

See What’s There [on Two Artists Tuesday]

Rogue Snowboard Test copy 2

On this Two Artists Tuesday we give a nod to all the special people who are willing to help – even when it makes no sense. They are everywhere though, because they eschew drama, they remain largely unseen. They put down what they are carrying to open doors for complete strangers. Late for a meeting, they slow their pace and cross the busy intersection, an invisible shield for an elderly crosser. Sometimes, at night, they are servers at restaurants, kind and patient with everyone, even after a long day working their first job. They make soup for hungry people they’ve never met. They leave fifty dollar tips for ten dollar tabs. They step into the street to shield a dog-on-the-loose from oncoming traffic. They walk into the wind and rain to deliver packages and junk mail. They carry a snowboard out to a car to reassure a mother that her daughter’s snowboard will, indeed, fit in the back.

Kindness. Paying attention. Little acts, big ripples. It’s breathtaking. It’s everywhere.

read Kerri’s blog post about THE THINGS PEOPLE DO

 

 

www.kerrianddavid.com