Humans of New York. S1: E1.

“Humans of New York began as a photography project in 2010.  The initial goal was to photograph 10,000 New Yorkers on the street, and create an exhaustive catalogue of the city’s inhabitants" (via). Since then, it has become one of the most popular ongoing documentaries of humanity, expanding over twenty different countries, and gaining over 18 million followers world wide.

Recently, the premiere episode of Humans of New York aired. Filmed over four years with more than 1200 interviews, BRANDON STANTON is sharing the lives of the people of New York, one story at a time (via). 

"These stories focus on specific populations, examining their experiences and the challenges that they face" (via), which is both encouraging and heartbreaking. 

Encouraging because we can be reminded that we are not alone in our hardships and difficulties, and heartbreaking because they are us and we are them. And when they ache, we all ache.

Or, at least we should.

You can follow Brandon Stanton and the humans of New York on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram. 

For more on . . .

-N- Stuff  :  Humanity  :  Regular People, like us  :  Real People, Real Stories

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Humans Doing Incredible Things

: Dancing on Air :

"It's about exploring the limits of what we can do . . . It just depends on how much you want it."

: Wheels, ReImagined :

"It would be easy for me to just be bummed out on {spina bifida}, but for me I just found the positive . . . It's wheels, stuck to your butt. How is that not a great time?

The wheelchair is a great opportunity"

: 45 Days, 22 Hours, 38 Minutes :

"It's a trail for one who wants to be in fellowship with nature. No matter whether your running it, or walking it, or you're taking ten years to do it. When you're walking that trail you have a vibe, and you feel it."

: Riding the Wall of Death :

"You've got bigger balls then most of the men!"

: Towering Above the Rest :

"You have to keep going because you have a collective responsibility and you don't want to let the team down."

For more on . . .

-N- Stuff  :  Humanity  :  Life of Adventure  :  Great Big Stories

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Riches to rags: a possible utopia

Our core needs are simpler than we're lead to and choose to believe. In reality, we can do with a lot less in our lives. Our hearts and minds have "become dominated by the fear of losing, or never getting things that we could, in fact, do perfectly well without."

Josey (@storyanthology) started posting "we don't have (blank)" pictures as a joke at first, because we truly don't have much, but then, as we thought more about it, we decided to embrace it, because there is something there. A reminder, perhaps, that we're okay without all those things, even though they'd be nice to have, because they're just not needed.

As long as we have each other.

Exhausted. Together.

Last night was our first night in our new home. We've been slowly moving in all week, but with Judah away for a two-night school trip, we decided to wait till Friday for the official ceremony.

The first night felt like camping; the first full day felt like the very opposite of camping. It felt like work. Hard work. And a whole lot of selfishness.

Just before Judah left for Malo Camp, we sat them down with ice cream and thanked them for their flexibility and easy attitudes because, truly, they have been pretty great. They've moved from room to room and house to house all summer long, they've shared a king bed since school started, have had to brave new schools, and are now moving away from Grammy and Pappa's house and all that they know. Life has been a shaken rug for them, and they've endured it and embraced it with smiles and obedience, even though, at times, tears run from their eyes. 

But this morning, I didn't care about any of that. All I cared about was getting work done and working hard, with a good attitude of course. Judah had other plans, and from the beginning, he and I butted heads. By 2pm, I had had enough.

Ever since this house became an option for us, I've looked forward to the day we would move in. I envisioned us sleeping on the floor together, watching a movie and making a memory, and I fantasized about the good time we would share making this place our home. 

I envisioned a blog post about family and beauty of creating something together. When it became abundantly clear that it wasn't going to happen, I found my spirits flailing, my temper shortening, and Judah sitting next to me while I drove to Home Depot, listening to me yell about respect, role of family, and the characteristics of men. When he started to cry, I made things worse. "Stop crying," I yelled, "You are a ten year old boy, you don't need to cry about consequences that you rightly deserve" (I don't write these words proudly, just honestly).

He choked back his tears and tightened his jaw as I pulled into my parking spot. "Stay here," I said, "And when I come back, I want to hear an explanation for your actions." I closed the door then poked my head through the window, "And I don't want to hear, 'I don't know.'" 

What I really wanted to do was spank his little butt until this attitude left or cowed into submission, but I knew that was wrong and probably wouldn't help. An afternoon of hard work, however, could accomplish much the same, so I bought him a pair of gloves and a long scraper, and by the time I got back into the van, I was a bit calmer and Judah had an answer: he was tired from Malo Camp.

"So Malo Camp is to blame for your attitude today?" I asked.

"No," he said, "I'm just more frustrated than normal, because I'm tired." He looked me in the eye, "Don't you act different when you're tired?" and my heart sunk. 

Since school started, we've been non-stop, working late evenings, living in two homes, wrestling with new schedules, bills, and emotions of moving, new schools, and life. We are exhausted, and I have been more than just a little impatient and "different." 

"Yes," I said, feeling like a bucket of ice water had just been dumped on my head, "I do." Then it was my turn to apologize. 

Some of the best memories I have growing up are from the times when I got into deep and serious trouble. Some of my worst memories are from those times as well, but looking back now, as a father, I can give a bit more grace to my dad for not always acting and doing the right and perfect thing (hopefully, someday, Judah will too). However, the times where my dad did take the time to be with me and not merely punish were the best. I remember splitting wood, working in the garage, and going fishing with my dad as all part of my punishment, and I could not be more grateful for those times because not only did they teach me how to work hard and endure, but they also taught me that my dad loves me, that he likes me, and that he truly and sincerely does care and want what's best for me. 

So I put Judah to work scraping the back room of our new home. Beneath a sort of padded flooring is tile, and for almost five hours, Judah scraped and pulled and cleaned the floor while the rest of us worked on the house. Whenever he asked me for help because a particular section was too hard I told him he had to find a way, "This is your job. It has to be done." And for most all of it, he found a way. Until the end. Which was what I was waiting for. Because it's what my dad taught me. So, for the last bit, we worked together. Me scraping up places where the previous contractor thought it best to lay way too much glue, and Judah clearing away and pulling up pieces of flooring. When it was over, we high-fived and took a break, together. 

When Judah's aunt came into the room and congratulated him for all his work, he smiled his bashful smile and said, "Dad helped me too," and my heart was restored. The lessons from my father had passed to my son.

It's a pretty easy habit to get into, pushing everything and everyone away whenever things get hard. Because that seems to simplify things and makes them controllable. Which us why I found myself today, more than once, wanting to push Judah away and not be around him, because I was so friggen frustrated with his attitude and selfish demeanor that I just couldn't handle it! 

When I did this at first, our relationship and his attitude didn't improve, it only got worse.

My dad understood this when I was a child so he hung out with me, worked with me, and fished with me. He wasn't this way all the time, but he was this way enough of the time, and that was enough, and it's still enough. Those moments, more than any others, have lasted time, distance, and hardship. Not the great and perfect days, but the imperfect ones, the ones where Dad shrugged of the weight of disappointment and frustration in me and simply loved his son anyway.

Today, for Judah, I hope my scraping away a dirty floor was enough, even though it doesn't feel like it.

For more on . . .

-N- Stuff  :   On Parenting  :  Fatherhood

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Where new words come from

Official sources, like dictionaries, only document currant usage. New words don't originate from above, but ordinary people, spreading words that hit the right combination of useful, and catchy.

Kory Stamper, lexicographer and author of Word by Word, expounds a bit more on dictionaries and the role they play with words:

“Many people believe that the dictionary is some great guardian of the English language, that its job is to set boundaries of decorum around this profligate language like a great linguistic housemother setting curfew. Words that have made it into the dictionary are Official with a capital O, sanctioned, part of Real and Proper English. The corollary is that if certain words are bad, uncouth, unlovely, or distasteful, then folks think that the dictionary will make sure they are never entered into its hallowed pages, and thus are such words banished from Real, Official, Proper English. The language is thus protected, kept right, pure, good. This is commonly called “prescriptivism,” and it is unfortunately not how dictionaries work at all. We don’t just enter the good stuff; we enter the bad and ugly stuff, too. We are just observers, and the goal is to describe, as accurately as possible, as much of the language as we can” (pg 35).

At the heart of it all, it is us - the people - who create language. And this makes sense because like clothing, it's a form of expression and identity. And like clothing, it is ever evolving and molding to who we are, and who we wish to be. 

The question is though, which comes first? The chicken or the egg? Do the words help define and create our identity, or does our identity define and create the word? 

For more on . . .

-N- Stuff  :  The Language of Love: When English words aren't enough  :  What Literature is for

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Fall in love in 36 questions, and two music videos

Brian Rea

I was asked today to check out a band, Manchester Orchestra, and it sent me into a deep spiral where I spent my lunch, planning period, and a decent chunk of my after school time listening to and watching some pretty fantastic music. For most of the day, Shake it Out was one of my favorites.

Until I stumbled across these guys, Seafret. To articulate their brilliance, currently, the only phrase that comes to mind that feels fully sufficient is, "Ho-ly shit." 

Not only is their music enticing and lyrics full, their videos are like little movies that I could watch over and over and over again. And then again. 

Like this one. 

Ho-ly shit, right!  Seriously, what else comes to mind? Okay fine, "brilliant" would also work, but it lacks the fireworks.

And speaking of the mind and fireworks, this one is just about the most mind blowing music video I have ever seen.

Prepare yourself.

I just L-O-V-E LOVE this video. The faces, the tangible awkwardness that slowly turns to comfort, intrigue, and a willingness to open up. The sliding of the foot under the table. 

There's no place to hide; no tricks to perform. It's just them, talking, and staring into each others eyes.

I love question 31, "Tell your partner something that you like about them already" because we can, that quickly, truly begin to like something about an individual and we can, that quickly, choose to focus on it, grow on it, and love it. And I love that they have to say it, not just think it. 

While watching this one, I began to wonder what would happen if I did this with family? With the ones that won't talk to me, and the ones I don't want to talk to? Especially after considering question 35.

Could we choose to love again? After 36 questions, could we find something that we liked about them, something new or something renewed? Or would we choose to cling to what we hate?

But also, and a little further, what if we (everyone) did this with anyone we come into contact with that scares or intimidates us? What if we asked questions instead held judgements? I've only ever really done it once in my life, while visiting Hawaii, and the experience was one of the most profound ever. 

But then I stopped. Because sitting and asking questions beyond the norm takes time, effort, and vulnerability, which, for me (and probably for many of us), is completely exhausting. For others, its just terrifying.

But what if we did it anyway? Even if only once and a while, to remind us that with only 36 questions, we can get to know, like, and perhaps even love complete strangers?

What would happen to our world, our countries, and our communities then? What would happen to my family?

Truly, I believe the answer is that we would heal. But who has the time to sit and talk that long? 

The 36 questions are as follows:

Set One:

1. Given the choice of anyone in the world, whom would you want as a dinner guest?

2. Would you like to be famous? In what way?

3. Before making a telephone call, do you ever rehearse what you are going to say? Why?

4. What would constitute a “perfect” day for you?

5. When did you last sing to yourself? To someone else?

6. If you were able to live to the age of 90 and retain either the mind or body of a 30-year-old for the last 60 years of your life, which would you want?

7. Do you have a secret hunch about how you will die?

8. Name three things you and your partner appear to have in common.

9. For what in your life do you feel most grateful?

10. If you could change anything about the way you were raised, what would it be?

11. Take four minutes and tell your partner your life story in as much detail as possible.

12. If you could wake up tomorrow having gained any one quality or ability, what would it be?

Set Two:

13. If a crystal ball could tell you the truth about yourself, your life, the future or anything else, what would you want to know?

14. Is there something that you’ve dreamed of doing for a long time? Why haven’t you done it?

15. What is the greatest accomplishment of your life?

16. What do you value most in a friendship?

17. What is your most treasured memory?

18. What is your most terrible memory?

19. If you knew that in one year you would die suddenly, would you change anything about the way you are now living? Why?

20. What does friendship mean to you?

21. What roles do love and affection play in your life?

22. Alternate sharing something you consider a positive characteristic of your partner. Share a total of five items.

23. How close and warm is your family? Do you feel your childhood was happier than most other people’s?

24. How do you feel about your relationship with your mother?

Set Three:

25. Make three true “we” statements each. For instance, “We are both in this room feeling …”

26. Complete this sentence: “I wish I had someone with whom I could share …”

27. If you were going to become a close friend with your partner, please share what would be important for him or her to know.

28. Tell your partner what you like about them; be very honest this time, saying things that you might not say to someone you’ve just met.

29. Share with your partner an embarrassing moment in your life.

30. When did you last cry in front of another person? By yourself?

31. Tell your partner something that you like about them already.

32. What, if anything, is too serious to be joked about?

33. If you were to die this evening with no opportunity to communicate with anyone, what would you most regret not having told someone? Why haven’t you told them yet?

34. Your house, containing everything you own, catches fire. After saving your loved ones and pets, you have time to safely make a final dash to save any one item. What would it be? Why?

35. Of all the people in your family, whose death would you find most disturbing? Why?

36. Share a personal problem and ask your partner’s advice on how he or she might handle it. Also, ask your partner to reflect back to you how you seem to be feeling about the problem you have chosen.

The 36 questions that can make you “fall in love with anyone” were first published in 1997, in an academic paper by psychologist Arthur Aron and others, under the title The Experimental Generation of Interpersonal Closeness: A Procedure and Some Preliminary Findings. The questions appeared in the appendix, along with the instructions that the team had given each pair, which began “This is a study of interpersonal closeness, and your task, which we think will be quite enjoyable, is simply to get close to your partner.” Participants were told to work their way through the questions in order, each answering all 36 questions, over a period of about an hour. Six months later, two of the participants were married to each other (via).

For more on . . .

-N- Stuff  :  On Living  :  More Seafret Videos :  Music

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The Electric State: A Narrative Artbook of extraordinary imagination

In late 1997, a runaway teenager and her yellow toy robot travel west through a strange USA, where the ruins of gigantic battle drones litter the countryside heaped together with the discarded trash of a high tech consumerist society in decline. As their car approaches the edge of the continent, the world outside the window seems to be unraveling ever faster as if somewhere beyond the horizon, the hollow core of civilization has finally caved in (via).

Simon Stålenhag is the internationally acclaimed author, concept designer and artist behind Tales from the Loop and Things from the Flood. His highly imaginative images and stories depicting illusive sci-fi phenomena in mundane, hyper-realistic Scandinavian landscapes have made Stålenhag one of the most sought-after visual storytellers in the world.

Now, Stålenhag turns his unique vision to America in a new narrative artbook: The Electric State. With your support, these amazing images will turn into a top-quality narrative artbook, truly doing justice to the extreme attention to detail and quality of Stålenhag's work.

The book will also add Stålenhag's own texts to supplement the images, giving you an even deeper understanding of the universe of The Electric State.

His artwork truly is fascinating and his imagination crisp. Each piece could be a story in and of itself.

For more on . . .

-N- Stuff  :  Art  :  Role of Art

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The price of an ugly plate

On Saturday morning, we hit up a few garage sales hoping to find a few cheap treasures to help fill our soon-to-be home. Instead, I bought an overpriced plate.

After five years of living in China, I was anticipating some sort of culture shock. Three years ago, on our first summer home, it came when I tried buying a pair of pants at Kohls. I walked in, became so overwhelmed with the mounds of options - style, color, brand - that I had to walk out. Josey was shocked to see me empty handed, only three minutes later, but I just couldn't handle it.   

This time round, however, it wasn't the pants that bothered me. It was religion.

It's no surprise that Christianity isn't popular in China. Even if one professes Christ, it's with hushed tones and little secret phrases because, if spoken too loud or shared too much, the local police is sure to visit. 

I knew America was different because our founding fathers said it would be. But still, the conversations with strangers were difficult to grasp. It started first on our camping trip to Holter Lake, MT when I accidentally sat in a woman's chair on the beach and found myself in a friendly conversation. Earlier I had noticed she was shaking her head and underlining her book (tell-tail signs of a good book), so I asked her about it. "It's amazing," she said, "You have to read it."

"What book is it?" I asked.

"Not A Fan" she replied, then launched into how God doesn't need us to cheer for him but to worship him. She not only assumed I was a Christian, but that I was her type of Christian - whatever that is. She didn't ask any questions about my thoughts, my beliefs, or my faith. She just assumed we were in agreement. 

If it wasn't for my kids swimming in the nearby water, I would have left. Not because I didn't want to talk further, but because, like Kohls, I just couldn't handle it.

This conversation has happened several times over the past couple weeks, and it still does, even in the classroom, but I'm beginning to get used to it, expect it even. 

Then this weekend happened. 

At any garage sale or antique store, while Josey hunts for simple treasures to make our home, I scavenge for used books. And like lake-side conversations, everyone seems to believe everyone else is a Christian who wants to read books on Christian living, how to have a good Christian marriage, how to be good Christian parents, how to pray more, how to pray better, and why Christians should read Christian books. It's more than a little irritating. 

Then, we came to the house that sits just a few down from the one we're moving into, an "everything must go!" type of garage sale, including the house. The lady of the house sat in a chair, surrounded by dishes, bags, and a giant calculator, encouraging everyone to buy more and providing deals on everything. We got a pair of steak knives for a dollar and a bin of clothes pins for fifty cents. 

Then, I saw the plate. It was behind her, on the floor, and on top of several others. My sister - a beautiful young woman adopted from Ethiopia - saw it too. I didn't know what to do at first, but as the lady was handing back my change, I stepped behind her and said, "I'll take this too." 

My sister's eyes grew and the lady stiffened just a bit, "Oh that! Oh, I can't sell that for anything less than five dollars!" Cleary, it was special.

"That's fine," I said, quickly tucking it into my bag, then whispered, "I'll explain later," to my sister. 

As we walked I tried to convince myself that maybe I was making a bigger deal than I should because, "Really, it's just a plate," I told myself.

Then I looked at it again. And really, it's more than just a plate. 

In one of the latest issues of O, The Oprah Magazine, a powerful photo essay entitled, “Let’s Talk About Race” was published in hopes of challenging "the ways we view race in a masterful way."

"Each of the three photos in the essay shows women or girls of color in a role reversal from the ways in which they are stereotypically seen ― or not seen ― compared to white women or girls."

“I knew that there was a vision to raise questions [about race] without being heavy-handed or mean-spirited,” photographer Chris Buck says about his work. “That’s the way in which I approached the execution and helped them to create the images.” 

The article continues.

However, Buck, who is a white man, acknowledged that producing the photos led him to interrogate his own relationship with race, and that the images can mean many things to many people. But he says the photos, at their core, serve as means to help spark a healthy discussion around race and the ways we perceive it (via).

“For white people like me, we need to understand just because we’re talking about race doesn’t mean fingers are being pointed at us,” he said. “To me what’s great is that it’s made conversation. I want people of color and white people to be able to have a dialogue. I don’t want white people to feel like they’re being talked at or black people to feel like they’re being shut down either.” 

Which is why the plate is so much more than just a plate. It's a statement, and it's an ending to any sort of dialogue before they even start. It makes black people feel shut down - like a good maid should be - and white people feel how they often feel. Privileged. Can you imagine a black family with a plate of a white woman holding a rolling pin?

“All parties need to feel welcome at the table in this discussion,” he added, “that’s how we move forward and to me, at their best, that’s what these pictures can do.”

I still have the plate. I had visions of my little sister breaking it, of her throwing to the concrete floor or shattering it with a hammer. But she doesn't need to, because she's stronger than a plate. 

But, apparently, I'm not. That woman got five dollars for her plate and an affirmation that what she had, what she so boldly sold, was okay. My sister was standing right next to me, in all her blackness, and the lady never even flinched. Because the plate she held with a little black lady holding a rolling pin was okay - it was just art.

And I said nothing. Why? Was I afraid? Afraid of offending the lady who gave me a deal on the clothes pins? Why didn't I say anything? 

I really don't know. But as I've considered it, I wonder if the reason I didn't say anything is because I have a history of not saying anything. I can write about it, I can even bark at my students when they show intolerance or ignorance towards others. 

But then, I can also say nothing. And I can't get over that.

It's no surprise that America - the world - is a mess. Racial and religious tensions are just as tight and fragile as they've ever been, spilling over and into the streets of our neighborhoods and cities. 

Since buying the plate, I've wondered how responsible I am for allowing hate and racial oppression to survive by not making my voice loud enough to confront it. Because although I may brake plates in the safety of my garage, I buy them with closed lips from my neighbors. 

And a community is only as strong as its weakest neighbor. 

For more on . . .

-N- Stuff  :  Humanity  :  Chris Paul forgives the men who killed his grandfather

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Drummers who steal the show

Most bands and musical artists are known for their singing or guitar playing, not their drumming because drummers aren't often the spotlight of any band, even though drummers tend to be more intelligent. Instead, they tend to take a back seat to everyone else, tucked behind a sea of drums and cymbals and sound. 

These guys - and a gorilla - are an exception (in spotlight, not intelligence).

Steve Moore (The Mad Drummer) Check out his website at: http://www.themaddrummer.com

Kwon Soon Keun - just wait till the 1:17 minute mark.

Cadbury's Gorilla

For more on . . .

-N- Stuff  :  Music  :  The Story Behind Soundtracks

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Watch Them Whip: A decade of fun, confidence, and refuge.

Many of us are looking for a beat, something solid and rooted where we can take refuge and begin to explore the fluidity of being alive, to investigate why we often feel stuck, numb, spaced-out, tense, inert, and unable to stand up or sit down or unscramble the screens that reflect our collective insanity.

I mentioned in an earlier post that I'm trying to integrate the arts as much as possible into my classroom. One of the most difficult for me is dance. 

This is perhaps the best defense for dance that I've ever read.

Dance is the fastest, most direct route to the truth — not some big truth that belongs to everybody, but the get down and personal kind, the what’s-happening-in-me-right-now kind of truth. We dance to reclaim our brilliant ability to disappear in something bigger, something safe, a space without a critic or a judge or an analyst.

We dance to fall in love with the spirit in all things, to wipe out memory or transform it into moves that nobody else can make because they didn’t live it. We dance to hook up to the true genius lurking behind all the bullshit — to seek refuge in our originality and our power to reinvent ourselves; to shed the past, forget the future and fall into the moment feet first. Remember being fifteen, possessed by the beat, by the thrill of music pumping loud enough to drown out everything you’d ever known?

The beat is a lover that never disappoints and, like all lovers, it demands 100% surrender. It has the power to seduce moves we couldn’t dream. It grabs us by the belly, turns us inside out and leaves us abruptly begging for more. We love beats that move faster than we can think, beats that drive us ever deeper inside, that rock our worlds, break down walls and make us sweat our prayers. Prayer is moving. Prayer is offering our bones back to the dance. Prayer is letting go of everything that impedes our inner silence. God is the dance and the dance is the way to freedom and freedom is our holy work.

We dance to survive, and the beat offers a yellow brick road to make it through the chaos that is the tempo of our times. We dance to shed skins, tear off masks, crack molds, and experience the breakdown — the shattering of borders between body, heart and mind, between genders and generations, between nations and nomads. We are the transitional generation. 

This is our dance (via).

What impresses me most about this video isn't their moves, but their faces. They're all having so much fun, and they're doing it all with so much confidence.

Because it's their dance. 

And its something I've never known, because

I look like this:

We dance to hook up to the true genius lurking behind all the bullshit — to seek refuge in our originality and our power to reinvent ourselves; to shed the past, forget the future and fall into the moment feet first.

For more on . . .

-N- Stuff  :  Art  :  Art in the classroom

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100 Great Works of Dystopian Fiction: Tales About A World Gone Wrong

We may or may not be living in a dystopian age, but we are certainly living in an age of dystopias.

Vulture has compiled a list of 100 Great Works of Dystopian Fiction. Within the list you’ll "find the classics — your Orwells, Huxleys, and Atwoods — but you’ll also find a rising crop of new entries into the dystopian canon, from younger authors with fresher concerns about what, precisely, could spell our doom. 

You’ll find literary fiction (like Lord of the Flies - one my all-time favorites), young-adult works, graphic novels, realist tomes, some books written long ago, and others published in just the last few years

Dystopian literature, as described by Jenny C. Mann, is “The creation of alternate societies through the negation of despised aspects of the real world, the use of social engineering to make people ‘good,’ the difficulty of distinguishing between the civilized and the barbarous, the use of frame stories that pretend as if the document you are reading ‘really happened,’ the confusion of reality/fiction and truth/lies, the purpose of technology in a perfect society, and the question of who counts as ‘human.’” These books are all part of the same wary family and, taken as a whole, they provide a look not just at the power of a literary mode, but what we fear we are capable of."

Apparently, we capable of some pretty terrifying shit.

For more on . . .

-N- Stuff  :  Other Recommended Books  :  Stories that hold the Thread

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Self-Confidence: A Mental Wobbling

Choice is the active hesitation that we make before making a decision. It is a mental wobbling, so we are always in a dither of doubt as to whether we are behaving the right way, doing the right thing, and so on and so forth, and lack a certain kind of self confidence. And if you see that you lack self confidence, you will make mistakes. Through sheer fumbling. If you do have self confidence you might get carried away with doing entirely the wrong thing. You have to regard yourself as a cloud in the flesh because, you see, clouds never make mistakes.

Did you ever see a cloud that was misshapen? 

When we believe that, we will  be on good terms with your own being, and be able to trust our own brain . . .

The problem is, I don't want to fully trust my own brain, because I know my brain, and I don't trust it.

But I do want to be on good terms with my own being, accepting it, in all of its limitations, and wobble, because I want to rely on others, need others, and cling to others, not just myself. Confidently.

Because that is Life. And in that, I do not dither or hesitate in doubt, but fully embrace. 

Like the beauty and wonder of the clouds. 

For more on . . .

-N- Stuff  :  On Living  :  Humanity

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Poilus: A short film about any one of us

The “Poilus” - infantry soldiers in the French army, especially during WWI - are waiting to leave for the battlefield. Among them, Ferdinand, a young hare, is playing the harmonica. A signal is given, the attack begins. It’s on the no man’s land that he first encounters his enemy, a horrible creature.

by ISART DIGITAL

This short film is intriguing. Why the juxtaposition of the car in the opening scene and the tank? Is it humanity and war? 

The harmonica, like Ivan Denisovich's clean spoon, is his clinging to humanity. And when he killed the soldier wearing a different color, he killed himself - metaphorically. 

But also literally. Playing in the open battlefield was, essentially, suicide. All the soldiers heard him - and one might argue, were inspired by him - but then a shot rang out. Before the whistle.

But who shot him? 

The soldier clenching his fist is in blue, just Ferdinand. Did his own commander kill him? The one who ripped his little bit of humanity left and stomped it in the dirt? Or was it the enemy?

And who is the enemy? 

Using bunnies is brilliant because any association we have with them is kind and fluffy and a perfect gift for any child of any age because they're harmless! Bunnies don't fight wars. Bunnies don't kill - our enemies do. 

Once humans are taken out of the film, everyone can be anyone, which, I think, is the point.

The line between them and us is instantly blurred. All the bunnies look the same, act the same, and twitch the same. Suddenly, any one of us can be any one of them. And anyone of us can choose to play the harmonica, or pull the trigger. 

For more on . . .

-N- Stuff  :  WWII Vets - Former Enemies, Now Friends  :  Humanity

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Stunning Native American portraits, by Kirby Sattler

Using an extremely thin brush, the main focus is now on the eyes - the most essential part of the painting. 

That last line needs repeating - "the most essential part of the painting." These are paintings, not photographs, and they are truly fantastic.

As this precise work is demanding and tiring, the work must alternate channeling the soul of the subject through the eyes, and other less involving details such as feathers, "models" for which are temporarily taped to the canvas.

The background and landscape elements are sketched as rough outlines. 

Out of all the stages of painting a portrait, this stage is the most crucial. This is when the painting's future is being investigated. 

If Kirby decides that he did not portray the emotion he envisioned, he will destroy the canvas (via).

I came across Mr. Sattler because, in my junior English class, we're studying Native American mythology. The other day, we used these paintings to discuss the inherited worldview of the various Native American people, which, although varied, tends to agree upon a few basic truths: mankind is subject and responsible to Nature. In many of their mythological stories, it is Nature - not the heavenly beings - that bring and sustain life. So it is Nature that they respect, worship, and honor. 

Their intricate headdresses are an extension and manifestation of their beliefs, their answers to the essential questions of life: what is the role of God, the role of Man, and the purpose of Life?

So we studied their faces.

This activity was the product of a hopeful new adventure in my teaching - Art Starts. It's a new theory and practice that stems from Gene Roddenberry's quote, "All art is an attempt to answer the question, 'What is it all about?'"

Not only do I fully agree with this statement, absorbing its truth into the classroom has provided me (and us) a powerful foundation to begin the school year, a sure rudder to guide each discussion, and an answer to the repeated question, "Why are we doing this? Is this important?"

"Because," I tell them, "Someone is giving you their answer to the greatest question we can ever ask, and if we aren't careful, we might begin to believe it. Whether we want to or not."

This methodology is in its infancy stage, so as of now there isn't much to write or produce, but I hope to share more as the year continues. 

But as of now, only two weeks in, I'm loving. So do the students because, whether they've been able to articulated it or not, deep down, they agree with Lyndon B. Johnson: "Art is a nation's most precious heritage. For it is in our works of art that we reveal to ourselves and to others the inner vision which guides us as a nation. And where there is no vision, the people perish." 

What better place to dissect, discuss, and interact with art than a classroom?

You can see more of Kirby Sattler's ridiculous art at his website.

For more on . . .

-N- Stuff  :  Portraits  :  President Bush paints those who went to war  :  Art

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Simply inspired, under a bridge

Plumber-turned-furniture designer Fernando Abellanas has built himself a studio that acrophobes wouldn’t want to visit. Abellanas has constructed his workplace under a bridge in Valencia, Spain, and it perfectly blends into the urban setting (via).

"Inspired by pioneer designers and architects from the 60’s and the 70’s, Fernando creates highly-functional products with minimalist aesthetics that range from lamps, shelves and benches to bike racks." 

You can check out more of his, and their, work here. 

For more on . . .

-N- Stuff  :  Living in a plane  :  Pablo Escobar's sons is an architects, and he's building peace

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The Art of Communication, with Louis CK

I've only recently stumbled across the works of Louis CK and, like him or not, he is brilliant. Especially when talking about some of the most controversial topics because, like any great comedian, he brings the topics to the table and makes us think about them. Even to the point of great discomfort. Like when he talks about race, or abortion. 

Because he's a master of communication.

Instead of constantly talking, or yelling, we should be focusing on the most universal forms of communicating.

Laughing.

On a deeper level, Louis is actually trying to make a comment here on the actual ruthlessness of the economy we live . . .

I think I'm obsessed with articulation. With the magic of putting things, just the right way. There are 207 words in this joke, and, not a single one is wasted. They're used either in meaning or in rhythm to contribute to the overall affect. An affect that lets us see the world from a different angle, and, more importantly, makes us laugh. 

And laughter is the manifestation of hope. 

You can also listen to this TED Radio Hour entitled, Painfully Funny, where Guy Raz talks with various comedians about how they use "humor as a weapon and a shield, to ward off doubt, discrimination, and even depression."

It's great - especially Maysoon Zayid: Should Humor Make Us Uncomfortable? and Kevin Breel: What Can Depression Teach Us About Comedy? But also, Negin Farsad: Can Humor Fight Prejudice?

For more on . . .

-N- Stuff  :  Power of Discussion  :  Monopoly is only fun if you win

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Chase

“Chase” is a mesmerizing stop motion animated short, shot in Ireland and Poland, that was directed by Sligo, Ireland artist Páraic Mc Gloughlin. The captivating film, compiled of Páraic’s own personal photos and sounds, explores time and the similar decisions that we all make and the paths we take in life.

Shot in Ireland and Poland – a journey that explores ideas of decision, choice, consequence, circumstance and time among other things, a personal perception on how we try to find whatever it is we are searching for. The film looks at objects, people, and places which share common properties, our connection with one another and our environments in the very similar yet very different paths we share (via).

For more on . . .

-N- Stuff  :  Humanity  :  Art  :  Short Films

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Being human, and the price of a solitary life

"Just you and the wind. And the time just melts away."

I think whats so tricky sometimes talking about the lookout experience is your not talking to anybody about it. You more intuit it, you more experience it. . . you just find yourself sitting on the porch watching the world go by.

This video, this lifestyle, is radically intriguing to me - especially during times such as these. Life on mountain tops, rising with the sun, seems so simple, so beautiful, and so much more lovely, wrestling with the wind and rain and dooming snow, rather than with the ugliness of mankind. 

But it also seems so unbelievable selfish, lonely, and ultimately, unsatisfying. Because even though the mountains have a way, they can't teach us what it means to be human. 

Chris McCandless gave his life to pursue a life of solitude, only to find that "happiness is only real when shared" and I think that's true. But it's also incomplete. 

Because humans are meant for so much more.

The 2015 Templeton Prize Laureate, Jean Vanier, speaks on the Big Question: "What does it mean to be fully human?"

 : I'm a member of the huge human family :

 . . . To discover who I am is also to discover a unity between my head and my heart. The head we are called to grow, to understand, and to work through things. But the heart is something else. It is about concern by others. We are born into a relationship. And that relationship that we all lived is a relationship with our mom. We were so small. So weak. So fragile. And we heard the words which are the most important, and maybe the words we need to hear all our life: I love you as you are. You are my beloved son or my beloved daughter. And this is what gives consistency to people. They know they are loved. And that's what they're seeking, maybe for the rest of their lives . . .

The problem today is that many people are filled with fear. They are frightened of people, frightened of losing. And because people are filled with fear they can no longer be open to others. They're protecting themselves, protecting their class, protecting their group, protecting their religion. We're all in a state of protection (seeking isolation). To become fully human is to let down the barriers, to open up. And to discover that every person is beautiful. Under all the jobs they're doing, their responsibilities, there is you. And you, at the heart of who you are, you're somebody also crying out, "Does somebody love me not just for what I can do, but for who I am?"

So to be fully human is the development of the heart and the head, and then we can become one. One inside of us. Becoming one inside of us we can little by little let down the ego, the need to prove that I am better than you. And then I can begin to see in other people, other groups, other religions, other cultures, that people are wonderful. And then we can come and we can work for peace together.

Often, living a life of isolation is easier than dealing with who we are - fully fallible human beings. But living in isolation also robs us of the best of what life can offer: forgiveness, love, and the complete acceptance of who we are. Like family.

Something the wind, the porch, and the mountains can never be.

To be human is to be known, to share happiness and tragedy with those we love, and to sit together, hand in hand, as the world quickly and beautifully passes by.

For more on . . .

-N- Stuff  :  Simple Living  :  Humanity  :  Why Chris Mccandless must die

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Why the solar eclipse will blow our minds

This kind of event puts you in contact with the cosmos; you can feel the motions of the heavenly bodies. We can feel how vast our solar system really is.

 

In 2016, Alaskan Airlines even adjusted flight #870, from Anchorage to Honolulu, so their passengers could watch the eclipse above the clouds. 

At 35,000 feet, it's hard not to get excited.  

For more on . . .

-N- Stuff  :  The scale of our solar system  :  Cool stuff we've sent into space

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When 2+2 equals 5, it's time to stand

Sometimes, it's best not to believe what we're taught.

When I showed this to my students a few years back, I asked, "Why imaginary guns? Why not the real thing?"

"Because they're not killing him," a student responded, "but his mind. And his imagination."

Perhaps the same can be said for the mindless adherence to rules, ideas, and religion. 

Ethnic (or any) diversity is like fresh air: It benefits everybody who experiences it. By disrupting conformity it produces a public good. To step back from the goal of {diversity} would deprive {everyone}, regardless of their racial or ethnic background, of the opportunity to benefit from the improved cognitive performance that diversity promotes.

Because,

When surrounded by people “like ourselves,” we are easily influenced, more likely to fall for wrong ideas. Diversity prompts better, critical thinking. It contributes to error detection. It keeps us from drifting toward miscalculation (via).

Sadly, at times, it takes someone standing at the chalkboard or standing in front of a tank to remind us how far we've drifted. 

For more on . . .

-N- Stuff  :  Diversity  :  Heineken commercial - More than a drink  :  Dangers of a Single Story

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