Back to where we started last week...
One of the more memorable lessons I learned from Tim Glenn, a then-grad-student teacher of composition, involved transitions. He was getting frustrated with the tendency of us all to have dances consisting of "neat pose-->shuffle to next-->neat combination-->drop alignment and go into next-->neat pose". In other words, our dances consisted of more a strung-together series of nifty little segments than a coherent whole.
The problem, he said, was that we were so focused on the next movement, the next new thing, that we dropped out of our bodies. To help us out he asked us to imagine that if a snapshot were taken of us at any point during the dance it could be instantly hung on the wall as a masterpiece. If we were frozen at any moment in the dance, we would be sculptures worthy of any museum.
We paid more attention to our dancing, to the moments in between. Well, mostly. At the very least our attention improved, if our dances didn't.
Fast forward eight years to a couple of weeks ago. I was looking through some stock photography at iStockPhoto (thanks, PresentationZen!) and it occurred to me how present some of the people in the images were in whatever moment they were in. Sometimes ridiculously so--come on, does that latte really bring that big a smile to your face?--but in a flash, it occurred to me that one of the qualities requisite for any beautiful performance is presence--that is, being fully there in whatever you are doing, giving your full attention to it.
It was Tim Glenn's suggestion writ large, the idea that if a photo were taken of you at whatever moment in your day it would instantly be a beautiful stock photo simply because you were present in that moment, giving it your full attention. Typing this article on my MacBook could be used in Steve Jobs' next keynote; as I pause to take a sip of coffee (...) mmmm, Indie Coffee is going to use that pic of me in their next brochure because I am so into the French press coffee I ordered.
Now, when I mentioned this at the recent art retreat my wife and I enjoyed, the mentor/facilitator was completely appalled. He said that the kind of "superficiality" I was promoting really infuriated him, this idea that you had to be "beautiful" all of the time.
I'm not sure if I was ever able to explain to him that he was coming at it from the wrong direction, but I know the other participants got it. It wasn't about trying to be aware of how you look all the time and trying to look beautiful.
No, it was about the fact that if you are there, present in the moment, fully engaged in what you are doing, you can't help but be beautiful. It comes from within, and will be noticed...but only by people that are paying attention.
Makes for a fun game, really--both trying to be present in what you're doing, and at the same time looking at the people around you and noticing who is beautifully engaged.
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