Some good words we picked out from Andy J. Miller’s thoughts on lowering expectations:
I just got back from New York a few weeks ago and I made an effort to meet as many peers as possible. The thing that struck me most was that even though many of these people were ahead of me in their careers, they were still working things out.
No one had it all figured out.
I realized this: until I retire, I won’t have it all figured out. I’ll never ‘arrive’. With every new phase there are new problems, new confusion, new feelings of being lost and unsure.
My expectations were adjusted. I felt more content within the struggle of where I was.
I am happier because of this.
My expectations have also been adjusted when it comes to career growth. When I was first starting out I always thought I was one great client from really making it. I always thought that there was some key that could flip a switch and I would have ‘made it’.
I also thought that if I just made a piece of work that was better than all of my other work, my career would slingshot into the next phase overnight!
The truth is the path is slow moving.
Yes there are some things that propel you to the next step faster than others, but it all works together.
Each day is a building block on the next, and no matter how large the block, you still have to keep building. The truth is the building is that part you love, it’s the making stuff that is that fun. Don’t wish the building away. That’s what it’s all about.
Read the rest of his thoughts on lowering expectations (which is healthier than it sounds!) here.
Liu Bolin, rightly nicknamed “The Disappearing Man,” hails from China and creates work as “a way to examine the relationship between culture and its development, and to speak for those who are rendered invisible by the Chinese government, by consumer culture or simply by the circumstances of history.”
In his own words, he says that “From the beginning, this series has a protesting, reflective and uncompromising spirit. I think that in art, an artist’s attitude is the most important element. If an artwork is to touch someone, it must be the result of not only technique, but also the artist’s thinking and struggles in life.”
So our question to you is: if life is art, how will your artwork touch others?
Hear more about Liu Bolin and his work on his new TED talk.
ArtPower! is at Transfer Admit Day! Library Walk, block 2001! Come check us out! #artpower #art #transferadmitday #ucsd #tritons
ArtPower! received the cutest ‘thank you’ notes for the Simon Shaheen Student Matinee! (at UCSD Student Center)
The ArtPower! Student Marketing team is all revved up for the Spark Party! (at The Loft At UCSD)
We’re thanking our fabulous donors at the ArtPower! Spark Party! #sundaybunch #artpower #spark #party (at The Loft At UCSD)
Talent Campus and Film Festival posters are in! Are you ready for the next two weeks? Because we are! (at UCSD Student Center)
I never liked jazz music because jazz music doesn’t resolve. But I was outside the Bagdad Theater in Portland one night when I saw a man playing the saxophone. I stood there for fifteen minutes, and he never opened his eyes.
After that I liked jazz music.
Sometimes you have to watch somebody love something before you can love it yourself. It is as if they are showing you the way.
-Donald Miller, Blue Like Jazz
I was never really into jazz. During my childhood, my most prominent moments associated with this mysterious form of music were 1) that time my dad and I went for a Saturday afternoon drive and I fell and woke up to the sounds of KKSF 103.7, “The Bay Area’s Smooth Jazz radio station” (they kept on playing this one track in their sets, which made the car ride feel timeless—as in, the car ride felt like an excruciating form of eternity) and 2) getting my haircut at a salon and being surprised at the fact that the barber hummed along to the jazz that was playing in the shop.
Who hums to jazz?!
The thought baffled me—I grew up having heard classical music and the stuff of radio Disney, neither of which boasted improvisational techniques and unpredictable rhythms. It never occurred to me that one could feel so inclined to love a jazz song in all its rhythm changes, especially to the point of knowing how to hum along with all its twists and turns.
And yet, I think the words of Donald Miller ring true. There’s something about watching somebody love something before I know how to love it myself. The reason why I say this is because this is how I feel about the Julian Lage Group performance we hosted back in March. I was utterly awestruck and stunned at the ease with which he played that guitar. —No, playing isn’t the right word, actually: it was more like he was coaxing all this emotion and energy out of that instrument in the form of music, one moment laying down those melodies in a quiet, soft manner, another moment switching it up to something swaggering and bursting with fullness. It was like hearing someone sing, except instead of words it was pure sound, almost as if it were expressing an emotion or an experience at its core, in a raw state.
And that irregular rhythm that was present throughout the night somehow seemed so right. It didn’t bother me anymore, that unpredictability of jazz. I’m sure it belonged that way all along, I just wasn’t ready to take it for what it was. If anything, jazz has given me its piece of mind, in such a kind and beautiful manner as this: that sometimes, it’s alright to sit and take in things as they come. Soak in experiences, soak in emotions and let them be what they are. And from that, make music—whatever next steps or next notes are appropriate. Make music with whatever instrument you’ve got, be it your sax, your words, your friendships. Make music with what you know and what you have.
The longboard life, Mexican cuisine, California coast: these are inspirations to Paris-based Chef Iñaki Aizpitarte for his first visit to the Golden State.
Cuisine as art, art as cuisine—the thought of it sure makes me think twice about my college cooking.