Perseverance

     A baboon in South Africa refused to look at the camera. My dismay was fleeting; it barely moved the meter on the Richter scale of disappointment. 
     Last year the meter jumped. A rejection notice arrived from a literary agent. I had queried her about a novel I'd written.
     Nailing an effective photo is challenging. So is publishing a book. Perseverance keeps us going.
     Researcher Ellen Winner studied children with an aptitude for visual arts. She claimed they possessed a fierce determination to improve their abilities. She called this urge a 'rage to master.' Those kids didn't need parents to prod them along. They forged ahead on their own initiatives. 
     What about adults? Do late blooming photographers and writers possess a built-in motivation to succeed? Is their perseverance inherent or acquired?

The Value of Boredom

     My mother pointed at the wallpaper in the kitchen. A ray of sunlight illuminated  it. The artwork glowed under a warm toned ambiance.
     Over the years I've seen beams of light dancing on that wallpaper. But I'd never recognized them as sources of beauty. Perhaps my inattentiveness was attributable to the time of day. Those light shows happened during late afternoons when I was passing through, rather than hanging out in the kitchen.
     In the final analysis, busyness kept me from noticing.
     We're busier nowadays. Even during relaxation, our brains are busy processing data from televisions and electronic devices. Are creative people--artists, writers, designers, and photographers--becoming less creative from this sensory overload?
     Not too long ago, episodes of boredom happened more often. To get through them, we'd wander outside to view the stars, or lay in bed looking up at swirls of paint on ceilings above us. Boredom served a purpose. It enabled us to think without distraction.
     Boredom inspired creativity.
     Nowadays people deprive their brains of free time. Just thinking about whatever is perceived as  boring. Instead we keep busy, or expose ourselves to a barrage of digital content.
    Creativity is suffering. Have you noticed that it's harder to find novels that hold our attention? Have you noticed the music industry is no longer prolific in the creation of quality? With so many television channels, why do only a few offer top notch programing?
     Here's one answer: Because of digital media, creatives spend too much time viewing or listening to each others work. Input is diminishing the quality of output.
     The situation reminds me of these lyrics from David Bowie's song, Five Years: "My brain hurt like a warehouse, it had no room to spare. I had to cram so may things to store everything in there."
     There's too much cramming going on. It's hurting creativity. 
     What does the future portend for creatives? Those creatives who spend too much time riding the digital merry-go-round will not reach their potentials. They'll spin in circles rather than breaking new ground. Those creatives who reduce their exposure to the Internet, and find time for boredom, will experience inspiration. They'll create works that resonate.
     This photographer resolves to cut back his time spent on that digital merry-go-round. This photographer intends to get bored more often.
    During The Renaissance, I'll bet Michelangelo devoted time to idleness. He must have understood that inspiration requires nurturing. Who knows, perhaps he too stared up at a ceiling in his bedroom. In those swirls of paint he might have conceived his greatest work later drawn on another ceiling, the one inside the Sistene Chapel.
     If Michelangelo were alive today, he'd carry a flip phone rather than a smart phone loaded with apps.

Leather and Laces

     My mother's favorite shoes are beat up. Look at the bulges on the interior sides; they were created from bunions on her feet.
     Mom doesn't want new shoes. This pair still works. She's elderly, having grown up during The Great Depression. People from that generation are frugal. They're less apt to throw stuff away.
     The laces are tattered and short. They string through only two eyelets. Tying shoes is a hassle for her. Being 89 years old makes the task even harder.
     She won't buy new laces unless they match the color of her shoes. Greenish-tan laces are impossible to find. I patronized several stores without success.
     Yesterday she visited friends for lunch. She wore black shoes because they're not ugly like the greenish-tan ones. I sensed an opportunity in her change of routine. Unbeknownst to her, I strung new laces, brown in color, through the eyelets of her beat up shoes.
     I wasn't sure how she'd react to the new laces. They didn't match the color of the shoes. If she become upset, I'd string the tattered laces back on.
     This morning she entered the kitchen. I was sitting at a table. It blocked my view of her feet.
     When she wasn't looking, I leaned over the side. My movement was slow and discrete.
     Her feet came into sight. Well, part of her feet. She was wearing those favorite shoes. But only the tips were visible. Her pants blocked out everything else including the laces. Was she wearing the new pair?
     I kept leaning as she walked. She wasn't aware of my attention. The hem of her pants shifted. A brown lace appeared.
     Yes! I straightened myself, said nothing, and ate breakfast.
     I have another thing to be grateful for on Thanksgiving.

Shedding Light on Luck

   
     Is luck random? Or can we affect the frequency of luck happening?
     At the instant I took the photo seen above, someone activated a flash. An explosion of bluish light illuminated the audience in a dramatic way. The synchronicity between my camera and that flash was not planned.
     I got lucky.
     Luck is not random. The more proactive our behavior, the greater the odds of experiencing luck.
     Proactivity requires inertia which often encounters resistance. Sometimes this resistance comes in the form of laziness. Or it comes from factors apart from ourselves.
      Before snapping that photo I drove eighty-five miles to the arena. I was tired from being up late. Resistance came in the form of exhaustion.
     Once inside the building I wandered about in search of a shooting position. During this survey my movements were curtailed by security people. More resistance.
      Later, while shooting photos from my vantage point, people waving signs impeded my line of sight. Resistance yet again.
     I didn't get lucky in spite of resistance. I got lucky because of it.  
     Proactivity vs. resistance = a greater possibility of luck.

Bird in the Hand

     Protestors faced a street. They pounded on drums and chanted slogans. Their signs criticized a presidential candidate. One protestor wore a Big Bird costume. Across the street stood backers of the candidate.
     A mother and her child approached. She wasn't interested in demonstrating. She spoke to Big Bird through peep holes under the beak of the costume.
     Big Bird bent toward the boy, shook his hand, then turned back toward the street.
     How nice it was to witness a tender moment amid the clamor of protest.

Failure or Success?

    Aftermath of Mitt Romney's election eve rally.

 
    What distinguishes successful people from failures?
    Consider the career of Mitt Romney. He lost an election to a famous person. His opponent wasn't President Obama. Back in 1994 Romney lost a senate election to Ted Kennedy.
    How did Romney react? He managed a winter Olympics, led a business to profitability, and governed a state. This year he became a nominee for present of the United States.
     Even though he failed to become president, Romney is not a failure.
    A failure broods over a failure and looses initiative. A successful person licks his wounds, gets back on his feet, and forges on.  

Reason for Voting

Voting on primary election day near Columbus, South Carolina

     Why do I vote?
     Ever since casting my ballot on election day, I've pondered that question. The answer boils down to this: I belong to a sacred trust.
     Sacred? The word implies something to do with God. How does the act of voting get lumped together with divinity?  
     Consider the preamble to the American Declaration of Independence: It states that people are '…endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.'
     Some people assert that God does not bestow rights. How could Thomas Jefferson, the writer of that declaration, know if God doles out rights? Assumptions aren't proof.
  What matters is this: Here in America, the right to liberty is regarded as unalienable; it comes from God. Because voting represents a tangible expression of that right, voting can be equated with sacredness.
     During some elections, the candidates or issues hold little interest to me. Yet I still make an effort to cast a ballot.
     What motivates me to vote is being part of a sacred trust passed down by Americans since 1776.

Breaking Through the Clutter

     

     Wall to wall campaign signs in Ohio. They're situated beside intersections, posted on front yards, and appear along rural stretches of road. Some of them tout presidential candidates. Others support local races.

     After a while they become a mind numbing hodgepodge.
     But one sign caught my attention. It stood outside a church. It was posted by a preacher with a sense of humor.