This work was painted in oil on Arches paper. It currently hangs in my parlor. Rudolf Steiner lived from 1821-1965. He spent his life trying to balance science with spirituality, which led to the development of Waldorf education and biodynamic agriculture.
Today didn't start out great. I had a bunch of work to do for my news job and the sound of remodeling going on just outside my room made my job more difficult. Fortunately, the remodeling on the top floor where I live seems to be drawing to a close. I don't want to speak too soon and jinx it, but that's what it's looking like. Also today, the parlor and dining room were finally cleared out, so maybe these rooms will become usable again.
After work, I was able to rehang two large oil paintings that previously had to be taken down due to the remodeling. There are still a couple more big pieces in remodeling limbo, but hopefully these can be rehung soon as well.
The weather today was perfect. I took a walk and then chatted with friends at the coffee shop. One of them even gave me a fancy doughnut. Now I'm getting ready to dive back into my next novel. A part of me wishes I could just keep working on it without having to worry about anything else.
I can fantasize about this, but if I lived any more like a monk I'd be an actual monk. I mean, I already live and work in a tiny room. I sleep on the floor and subsist primarily on juices and nuts. It's a lifestyle that works for me. It keeps art and writing centered in my habits. But it's sparse.
In some ways, focusing on artistic and literary pursuits in our current societal circumstance feels like fiddling while Rome burns. But society's problems are systemic and largely unapproachable. And the proposed solutions to these problems being discussed by the mainstream seem like hollow attempts to continue supporting business as usual despite the fact that business as usual caused the problems in the first place.
One funny thought that's been on my mind lately is the healing power of complaining. Growing up in the Midwest, I was led to believe that complaining was an undesirable or even amoral response to stuff that sucked. Of course, constructive solutions are always better than complaints. But in the last year or so, I've been seeing more and more value in the act of complaining.
Complaining is accessible to the powerless. Often it's the only action that can be taken in response to the harmful behavior of the comparatively powerful. In my own life, I've found it increasingly useful to complain about problems and then let them go. Sometimes the problems get resolved. Oftentimes they do not. Either way, once I've complained about them, their hold on my thinking becomes greatly diminished.
An interesting part of this is that my complaints don't actually have to be received by anyone else for them to have a calming effect on my psyche. I can just write them in a blog post that nobody reads and essentially feel they've been laid to rest. For someone who is naturally inclined to bottle stuff up, this can be very helpful. But for those who are naturally inclined to always spill everything, it could potentially make matters worse.
