What is it?

I have spent a couple of days getting some photographs ready for an art show at a gallery in Memphis. It would seem like an easy task with all the pictures that I have. But when the task was at hand I had to decide the answer to an important question. What is art? That just opened the door.
Next I had to decide another big issue which is if the picture is pretty does that make it more than a snapshot. It didn't. It doesn't. It just wasn't. I then had to look deeper. Since paper is "paper thin" I had to find another location to discover this answer.
I was left with many outlets but no anwers. I have talked with friends, family, the camera. And no anwers still. I discovered when talking to my family that everything I do is wonderful. Well, who would have guessed that one. Some friends told me that art was art because it was different and it matched the room it was placed into. The camera, of course, was notoriously silent. He never gives me the answers he just sits there and listens while I throw out all the wild ideas.
I was left with no other choice. I had to look into my own thoughts and at all my photographs and decide what is a snapshot and what is "art". What did I find? I found still more confusion. But then some things became clearer. I take pictures. I create a snapshot, to keep forever, of what I see. It becomes art when someone else can see what I see. Not just a snapshot of the world but the story behind it. It is the subtext of life.
Why is that so important to me? I think it is because if someone else can get the meaning then I have made a connection with another person in this world beyond the just a glance of life.

Sunday Sunday

Today I was sitting on the porch of my very good friends' and as I enjoyed 'Sunday Drop In' I found myself in the middle of several discussions. One that really struck me was about a pair of cuff links. The story I want to share wasn't actually about the cuff links as it was about how they ended up with "Sam"(names have been changed to protect my innocence). "Sam's" father was Scottish and was a child during WWII. Like many children he was relocated to Northern Ireland. I don't know why this was so, I just know it occurred. Years later this man, now grown, was touring the countryside of Ireland and ended up coming across another man that too was relocated during the war. BLAH BLAH BLAH.....the other man was important, he gave "Sam's" father some cuff links and now "Sam" wears them proudly as he should.
Now why you wonder was this so important to me? Well I found myself thinking how exciting it would be to have a "home" to go back to for such an adventure. It was then I realized that I did have a home to go back and visit and it is as much an adventure as Ireland or Scotland or BFE. My "home" is a little known place called Number Nine Arkansas. Just the name alone brings up mental images of wild times I am sure.
An adverture it was. I have two wonderful people that have been such an unbelievable influence on my life that still make it home when I return. I guess I should give some background before I drift on into the world of No. 9. I actually grew up in the Memphis area and for most of my years in Horn Lake. There I lived with and was extremely well cared for by the best mother in the world. The paternal unit was not as great. So this led to my adventures in Number Nine. During most of my teen years my mother worked very very long hours taking care of the needs of her family so during many weekends and most of the summer I lived with my grandparents so that she wouldn't worry about me being home alone all the time. I never gave this arrangement a second thought. I got the best of everything. I had a great mother and two of the most amazing grandparents.
So what adventure was there to find on a big farm during the summer for a teenage boy? You name it. The best thing was that I was given so much time to think, to create, to make my own adventures which each day were different. I was not running the streets. I was not just hanging out with the crowd. I was hiking across fields that may have been out at Number Nine but with the right creative imagination, I was all over the world.
But what made it "home" was this is the place where I knew I was loved, cared for, and given high expectations. I had two homes. But this one had Maw Maw and Paw Paw. Who could ask for anything else.

There is no I in Loser!

Does being behind when the time runs out mean you lose? For a group of young men from Memphis you probably will never convince them of anything else. For millions of fans that watched all over the country you can't ever make the low any worse than what it was at the end of the game. But I stand here and say that being behind when time ran out is just an obstacle to overcome next year.

Now what we have to do is realize what those men from Memphis have done in the last few weeks. They have taken a city that watched the nightly news to see how many people have died, been robbed, raped, etc. and turned it into Tiger Fever. For a short time we got a break from reality and learned to like ourselves and more importantly have pride in ourselves as we supported a team with spirit.

No. We didn't lose. We won on so many more important levels. There is no I in loser because you and "I" won so much more by just being in the moment with them.

How many people died in Memphis yesterday? It wasn't our focus. We won!

Go Tigers Go!

Next year the fight begins again. Never give up even when the time runs out.

Go Tigers Go!!

Memphis. A town of losers? A town of criminals? OK, I'll give you criminals. Well, a lot of them any way. But losers, no you can't have that one. But what is it about Memphis that gives people that idea?

Is it the image of our city? Is it the fact that in the past there has not often been a Memphis team to get this far in the finals. Is it simply because when you are down and out in so many ways people like to keep you there?

I have grown up in the Memphis area. I have lived here for 19.66 years of the twenty years since I moved back to the city after college. I have told people that I had to move back, after just four months when I did move away, because I love Memphis. Not Memphis basketball mind you. But I loved the city and being away just didn't seem right.

Now I find myself loving Memphis basketball too. Only twenty years after I made this city my chosen home. Just a couple of years after I have decided that the metropolitan is too dangerous to live in so I will have to move when I retire. So does this mean more than just an enjoyment of a game? Maybe I am looking so hard for a reason to stay that I am noticing all the positives about Memphis I have missed for all these years.

Positives about Memphis. The one thing that the entire country can focus on right now is Memphis basketball. Is it life changing? Will it make us a better city? Does it make any difference at all? Maybe. Maybe? Yeah, maybe.

If a person finds something to be happy about he or she will pass that along. Happy people share happy. Life changing? Maybe. You never know who needs only one more negative to finish them off. Why try any more? Extreme, possibly. Basketball as a life saver? In this cut off, virtual world of limited true human contact (pay at the pump, self-check out, ATM and so on) when more bad contact happens than good contact it can make people think really hard about all things in life.

How about a better city? Why don't we all wear blue and stand together supporting a university. It might lead us to believing it is more than just basketball. The thought of going to be a part of the whole system might lead people to want education. Education will make us a better city and change a life. Hmmm, makes more sense to me.

It makes all the difference when people can stand together for something. Look at history. Think of all the things good and bad that happened when a group of people had something to work for together. The north took a more supportive effort in the Civil War when it became all about slavery. Germans supported Hitler against those evil jews (please note sarcasm), the Allied powers uniting at the discovery of the Holocaust, the Red Scare and McCarthyism, the domino theory and the USSR, Monica Lewinsky, boys kissing, stem cells, and suicide bombers.

So I will support Memphis. Go Tigers Go! I just wish I had been shopping at Ashley furniture. Look up Memphis good things to figure that one out.

Wal-Mart and Other Anomalies

It just seems unusual to me how many people shop at Wal-Mart no matter what hour you go into that store. But more importantly, if you shop there, does that make you one of "them?"

How often do we judge other people silently and with no other facts than first impresson of appearances to base our judgments on, we seem to be able to sum up all the qualities of those around us.

I personally would never do that anymore than I would go out to eat on a Saturday night. In fact, three serial killers and a redneck woman later I finally made it totally in the store had basket and was in route to the pharmacy. Not for prescriptons but for Breath Assure. What a first impression! Now who would have thought that it was possible but with a harsh realization of this little information tidbit, I started to understand that I too was one of "them." Yes, I am a discount shopper. I will drive across town to save three cents on gas. I do have my old favorite clothes and will wear them however mis-matched into the Wal-Mart and if it is summer, sometimes there will be flip flops too.

Sadly, this store is in my community. I might run into people that I work with. Do I want my boss to see me in a shirt that says, "I make my own gas." I could justify that statement is not too bad with prices like they are but when you add the can of baked beans to the message in the big picture it all tends to go downhill.

There is nothing left to do. I will own my status in this society and be proud that I too am a redneckily(if Bush can make up words so can I) dressed discount shopper. I will however not go into a place without first using a comb or a hat.

If I am like those fellow shoppers in appearance, I should consider what really counts. How parallel are our lives? Do they struggle to make ends meet now that almost $300 a month goes to those wonderful people at the oil companies? Do they have elderly grandparents that need help with their house and lives? What about their own families? How many hours do they spend going to ballgames and dance rehersals? Dogs or cats?

If their lives are like mine, then on what can I judge them? I guess nothing. And isn't that the way it should be? How much time do we waste judging people? What could we do with our thoughts if we used them in a more fruitful manner?

Of course, to quote one of those famous writings there is the concept of "Judge not lest ye be judged." Now reading and knowing that simple fact it should be easy to say that I should not judge others on a glance.

Sadly we are all more alike than I want to admit because no matter what I realized I will probably still snap judge in the Wal-Mart and other places just like everyone else. But at least now it will be with fresh breath.

Who is that?

Ok, I am very guilty of this so I have to admit it. I don't know my neighbors. Now that is not exactly true. I know "Biff"(named changed to protect the ignorant) to the right and I know Patsy to the left. I don't spend time with my neighbors. Do you know who lives next to you? Do you care? Why should I? I don't even know you. Wait, that might be it. I don't know them. So what happens to them, their property, etc. means nothing to me.

When I moved into the neighborhood it was still small and mostly under construction. There were only about five of us that lived on the street. At that time I knew my neighbors. Well, I knew enough about them that I was willing to talk in the yard about weed control, all those bugs(who knew they would take issue with houses being built on the open land where they lived), and the fact that there would more people soon.

But as fast as the bugs moved on, the deer quit running through the woods up the hill from me, and my house started to sink the neighbors that I knew moved away. And the only one left is Biff.

Some of you might remember the old days when a moving truck drove up you went out and met the neighbors and made a new friend. Community was a feeling as well as a geographic location.

Is that important? I think it may be. This might be an ever better place to live if I knew people. If nothing more than to say hello and talk about the weeds in the yard.

Someone might even want to hear about the deer that used to run by up the hill.

Saturday, about 8:00 am

It is another morning. In the last couple of days I have dealt with the death of a former student and that made the rest of life sort of dull. That is when something else came to mind. Not long ago I was riding with a family member and his phone rang. One of his friends was coming to town and thought she was in Memphis but wasn't quite sure. I overheard the conversation and rang in, "Ask her if she is suddenly nervous and feels like she may die soon." He, without a thought of morbidity, passed on my random thought. If you don't live in the Memphis area you don't seem to realize that while gross in nature, the thought goes through all of the local citizens' minds. Violence avoidance has become a regular way of life for those of us in the metropolitan area.

Why? I could give a simple answer of "it is because of poverity" as that is the catch all when someone wants to pretend there is nothing that can be done. Let us not forget that poverty has existed since humans began living together in communities. There has always been rich. There will always be poor. It is just a reality that we have to face and then look at the real reason for violence. Violence and crime are not just concepts that only belong to the poor. They belong to people who are not taught while growing up these things are wrong. I don't mean people aren't telling their children that killing and stealing are wrong. I know that does happen. I am talking about a whole way of life. We glorify violence. And here we go. I know I am about to lose a few people's interest because it is always better to scoff at something then to find a possible rationale to the thought.

We have glorified violence in our media to the point that the more horrific the better thus making us desensatized to the gore inflicted on people daily. Add that to a generation of people who have not been taught to find solutions to conflict and you have makings for a deadly society.

When did this begin to happen? When society forgot that families provide the biggest influence on a child's life. Families aren't following the patterns that have been a proven method to pass on thoughts and teach skills necessary to live in a community.

Here is one beginning to the problem.

One very important factor that has been lost is the "Family Dinner." People will be quick to say that there isn't time to do that anymore. I challenge that. If there has been time for families to meet and interact for many generations then there is time now. What we have to do is make the decision to take back the family and use this daily or several times a week possibility to teach the proper ways to act and react.

Leaders of families will need to do one thing. Commit to doing the right things themselves. It all starts at home. Not with government officials putting more police on the street. It means that moms and dads have to make decisions for their families. Talk. Mentor. Help make better decisions.

At 41 I still get to experience the family dinner as this is the way I was taught by my mother. A single parent she instilled values in me so that I could pass them on to others.

I want to clarify that statement. Values meaning those concepts of what is important to make one's life successful. And value number one was success comes from being a part of a family.

Notice that material needs aren't listed as the most important value.

When was the last time that actions about family importance matched the words? Lip service is detrimental to this concept. Our actions must match our words. If they don't we teach a conflicting message that devalues family and sends people to the streets to learn lessons.

Families are the beginning and will be the end to a problem if we will truly learn what the institution is supposed to do and how important the interactions will be to the development of the children.