Nametags
Sometimes I get overwhelmed by the idea that on any given day I walk past dozens-hundreds of people that I will never know. Not knowing them is not usually the issue. The issue is if I'm honest with myself, I don't care.
That sounds harsh; but do you stand in line at the grocery store or in the airport and more than acknowledge the existence of those around you? Each one of those people is the center of their own universe they have a lifetime of experiences, triumphs, failures, heart aches that I'll never know about. I don't know their names they wont remember my face, you get my point.
To put my conscience at ease I asked the cabinet lady at home depot a few leading questions...I figured the box store hadn't been there forever she must have had a life before that orange smock. Right? She used to live in VA, owned her own arts and crafts store, put two kids through college. This woman even helped her girls start successful businesses of their own.Oh and she was modest about it but I feel like she was a pretty good artist.
I tried this again on a recent flight from Atlanta to Nashville. The young woman next to me was a Sr. at a Kentucky University who was on her way back from L.A.. "Summer Vacation?", I asked. She then informed me she just buried her boyfriend who drowned the week before in a swimming accident. He passed while she was trying to save him. And the kicker was that she seemed okay. She was full of hope and she had plans on how to honor his life.
As artists we have the privilege of telling people our stories...but maybe we also have the responsibility of telling theirs.
j.
That sounds harsh; but do you stand in line at the grocery store or in the airport and more than acknowledge the existence of those around you? Each one of those people is the center of their own universe they have a lifetime of experiences, triumphs, failures, heart aches that I'll never know about. I don't know their names they wont remember my face, you get my point.
To put my conscience at ease I asked the cabinet lady at home depot a few leading questions...I figured the box store hadn't been there forever she must have had a life before that orange smock. Right? She used to live in VA, owned her own arts and crafts store, put two kids through college. This woman even helped her girls start successful businesses of their own.Oh and she was modest about it but I feel like she was a pretty good artist.
I tried this again on a recent flight from Atlanta to Nashville. The young woman next to me was a Sr. at a Kentucky University who was on her way back from L.A.. "Summer Vacation?", I asked. She then informed me she just buried her boyfriend who drowned the week before in a swimming accident. He passed while she was trying to save him. And the kicker was that she seemed okay. She was full of hope and she had plans on how to honor his life.
As artists we have the privilege of telling people our stories...but maybe we also have the responsibility of telling theirs.
j.
