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ZF2 = SA+SA

Today was an absolutely stunning day. The heavens opened last night but this morning the sky began clear, bright blue and cold. I regretted wearing a short coat and stuffed my hands in my pockets as I walked through the Jardins de Palais Royal in the late afternoon.

Like a cat, I have slowly expanded the circle around my house and I have what feels like a sizeable radius within which I can wander on autopilot and let the hamsters in my brain do what they do best. It’s come to my attention that the content of my blog has not landed well with a few people and I have been mulling since my last post exactly how to address that.

I’ve been told that given I am a very private person, it seems strange that I am sharing things about my life in a public blog. I’ve thought a lot about this one. My blog came to be because I used to write long descriptive notes to a friend of mine and he suggested that I could write a blog because my journey might be of interest to other people. I do enjoy writing. It’s a great outlet for me to work through some of the cacophony created by the hamsters upstairs. I also love reading, and as such I follow a few blogs that I think, dare I say, ‘enrich my perspective’ and by whom I’ve felt inspired.

My favorite blog as most of you know because I am incorrigible about sending it to people, is Jenny Lawson, author of 3 books, and author of a blog called The Bloggess. Not only is Jenny Lawson absolutely hilarious, but she is a brilliant storyteller. She is a passionate animal lover and it’s a wonder she gets any words to screen given the constant barrage by her menagerie. I find her to be incredibly witty and engaging with her style of writing and her topics are so uncommon and also seem so relatable.

Jenny Lawson is very open about suffering from a myriad of health problems, both physical and mental which sometimes cause her to feel like the walls are closing in. Sometimes her depression is so bad she cannot write. And yet she does..just a little, here and there when she can. The grace and good humor with which she handles all that life throws her is incredibly inspiring and impressive.

There are people who are fighting crime and slaying dragons in impressive displays in the arenas of athletics, academics, business, technology, medicine and others I’m sure I’ve forgotten, but what partly inspires me about the way Jenny Lawson is, is that she lives a seemingly mostly ‘typical’ life, being a daughter, wife, mother, pet owner, neighbor, friend etc and also dealing with (more than her fair share of) adversity. And from her everyday experiences and struggles with medical challenge, she makes her own kind of beauty and magic, and SHARES it with all of us.

If she eliminated the personal content of her blog, her story wouldn’t resonate on the very human level that it does. I believe it’s precisely her bravery and courage in sharing all the parts of her life that gives her messages their immense power. (Click here for an article about her.)

It’s also a wonderful example of giving because as a result of sharing her journey in such a truly authentic, touching and hilarious way, Jenny Lawson has created a huge fan base from whom she says she now feels tremendous daily support. It’s a perfect example of how the act of giving when done with pure intention becomes symbiotic with receiving.

I thank all the stars that shine that I haven’t had to deal with the sorts of obstacles Jenny Lawson faces daily. But like all of us I have had challenges. I had never known fear of imminent death for example like when I had cancer. It was crushing for me. The challenges of living abroad have paled in comparison, but I have certainly had my moments and the heartfelt notes of love and encouragement from you have meant the world. You know who you are, and I thank you and am so grateful to have you ‘in my orbit’ as one of my friends says.

I think it’s important to note also that my blog is not meant to be taken as notes home. My writing here is my place to play with ideas and experiment with commentary about things that are of interest to me, and maybe others. My stories are not fictional, but may involve a little artistic license because that’s fun and makes things more interesting.

I think it’s of benefit to be in a public format and discoverable for people to come across because it means I can connect with those with whom my path might otherwise not cross. And isn’t that the whole point of our journeys through time on this floating blue dot?….to challenge the unknown in whatever form that takes for each one of us? It’s also been my experience that when I share authentically especially with others who I am just coming to know, they will often do the same. And if they don’t, they are probably not those with whom I wish to engage. I’m not a huge fan of cocktail parties for example because of their ‘small talk nature’ but almost without fail I end up finding a few like-minded people with whom to share a few really deep conversations.

So what does ZF2.0 = SA+SA mean?

Well I was thinking about the concept that’s bantered about so much these days of ‘giving zero f*cks’. There’s a book on it, and I have to say I found it to be excellent. And this image below just came up on my instagram and I had to laugh:

But joking aside, it’s a concept with which I wrestle so much. The idea of ‘giving zero f*cks’ about what others think is very difficult for me. Like most of us, I have always sought the acceptance and approval of others. So when I boil down the true nature of giving zero f*cks it means being so accepting and approving of ourselves that the opinions and judgments of others don’t hold any relevance for us.

Zero F*cks 2.0 = Self Acceptance + Self Approval

If I chose to write some commentary or other about something or to share my version of something that happened in my life, it is for my own artistic expression and as a way to consider the meaning of things as I move through life. Acting with kindness, respect and honesty is what is of utmost importance to me. I endeavour to do that with every interaction I have everyday.

When I make decisions, my rationale might not be obvious, clear or even discernible when explained to others, but that’s ok. And sharing things about my life is a form of expression that won’t ‘vibe’ with everyone as the modern vernacular goes. But I’m happy doing my thing here in my pink Mickey Mouse spandex. It works for me. I’m comfortable for travel, and maybe I’m on my way to Disneyland!? I’m going to fit right in, and be able to walk happily for miles in my dad sneakers, tank top and these vermin themed leggings in a color that will make me easily viewable in a crowd. 😉 #DisneylandOrBust

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“What” and “If”: Two Innocuous Words

Two innocuous words that when used together have the ability to put the brain into complete spiral.

Vanessa Redgrave in ‘Letters to Juliette’

Well, this is my fourth attempt at a blog post. I have been thwarted at every turn. Twice, the wifi cut out in the middle of me writing…once my piece was lost due to my own error in closing the window, and then the second time it was saved, but alas the moment of inspiration was lost.

When I create, whether painting or writing, I tend to work until the piece is done. I will go back and edit or modify a painting at a later time of course, but the initial genesis always comes out in its first iteration in one sitting. So I have a few posts now sitting in construction, and I will attempt to come back to them, but for now I am surging forward.

It has been a hard week with a few emotionally dramatic scenarios occurring. They are not my stories to tell, but they have been dramatic and traumatic. I think Roo will allow me to say that he was mugged. He is physically ok, but mentally quite shaken. A guy accosted him at the skate park (about 2.5km from our apt) and tried to take Roo’s drink off him. Roo stood his ground and then the man followed him into the skate park course and started to point and pull at Roo’s knee and elbow pads. Roo had the good sense to leave the park, but unfortunately the guy followed him…keeping out of sight. When Roo opened his cross body bag to retrieve his key card to enter the building, the guy sprang on him as Roo was closing the door behind him.

The guy grabbed him by the scruff and thrust his hand into Roo’s open bag and made off with some cash. He couldn’t steal the whole bag as it was attached to Roo so that’s at least a consolation. The loss of money was little consequence compared to the awful feeling of violation Roo felt being accosted in our own front lobby. So that has very much eroded his sense of safety and well being. And it’s really unfortunate because Roo was just starting to feel at ease, making small circles from our apartment to get familiar with the area. Our neighbourhood is very safe and it’s just very unfortunate that this crime of the skate park followed him home.

Roo’s courage and resilience has impressed me no end and I am pleased and relieved to see him recovering. This incident has however lessened his love of this city, and he is struggling with not wanting to remain here. This is a familiar predicament for me because I was an exchange student to Venezuela and I had some exceedingly traumatic events occur and I was desperate to leave. I didn’t disclose to my parents the full extent of what had happened so they didn’t know what I was dealing with, and insisted I stay. My mom grew up in the Middle East and a day where bullets didn’t ruin the family’s good sheets while they were drying on the line, was a victory. My mom is made of tough stuff and I know wanted me to grow from my challenges of living abroad.

But do I think leaving Venezuela would have been the right choice for me? I do. I stopped going to school in Venezuela because I was harassed there by the boys, and I turned to exercise as a means to cope. I lived in a tiny gated community of about 6 houses in the mountains and we had a shared driveway that was about 1 km long at about a 40% incline. So I sprinted up it. Again, and again and again. I also found a gym I could go to and feel safe and so I worked out. Class after class after class. When I arrived back in Canada I was wiry and lean (and absolutely totally mentally wrung out.)

My physical prowess inadvertently put me in perfect condition to hit my next chapter of life which was starting in the Canadian Navy as a Fighter Pilot trainee. I arrived being able to surpass all the physical fitness standards set for (women and for) men. I could do chin ups for days and as the smallest person was always the ‘marker’ when we formed up. (The marker was the one around whom everyone else had to keep the proper distance so the squad stayed in perfect formation while in motion. It was kind of a thing of beauty to be honest, but I was often shrieked at to slow the pace while we ran for miles as one.) So perhaps the challenges of South America prepped me well for military life, but Rupert is not training for military forces and he is also only 12. So we are working our way through finding what will feel like the right path forward for him.

Regardless of what we all decide is the right choice for Roo, I know this experience of living in Paris (regardless of the length of time) will inform him for the rest of his life….and I don’t just mean the being mugged part. That was an unfortunate experience but there have already been soooo many good ones. So it’s a matter of finding the balance of how many good ones we pack into his bucket before he returns home to Victoria.

As I sit writing this, my hair is in a wild mess on top of my head. We are now at day 3 without hot water and feeling like I’m back in the military, on a multi-day field exercise where personal hygiene isn’t a priority. But I have to take a moment and let off some steam, and say, ” ummm, WTF?!…last I checked I am living in PARIS….one of the largest metropolitan cities in the ‘modern’ world. Why on God’s (still mostly…) green earth is it taking 2-3 days to get a part for a boiler in a building that has just been gutted to the studs?! ”

This is a rhetorical question, because in France in this situation one just shrugs one’s shoulders and simultaneously exhales whilst also saying ‘Ufffffttt….’ and trailing off. I mean honestly I would expect this from some enchantingly quaint town in rural Italy, but not in the freaking centre of freaking Paris. Sorry there is a lot of ‘freaking’ happening here, and let me just say that I’m actually toning it down.

I wrote about the challenges of the French bureaucracy….I accidentally typed that as ‘bureaucrazy’ and really, no spelling mistake could be more apropos. In order for us to ‘validate’ Georgia’s student visa we need to pay a small ‘administrative’ fee and present her visa and passport to our local city hall. In order to pay the aforementioned admin fee, however, we need to have a French bank card or credit card to pay. Those are the only two accepted forms of payment.

I am now about a month and a half into the process of getting a bank account. I’ve given them copies of everything under the sun, I even have my IBAN number AND have given them 800 Euros to open the account. I felt like I was just about there, but do you think I can get the bank to give me the bank card to be able to access my bank account?! Absolutely not! That appears to be a whole different thing. I’ve been to the bank four times. They now know me there. They actually KNOW my first and last name just by seeing me. At least I have that going for me, except they just shake their heads and give me the French ‘uffffttt’ about where my bank card is. Apparently they are waiting from authorization from the heavens. God, if you are listening….I know you have WAY bigger fish to fry….world peace, starvation, environmental peril, the ill and the suffering…..they all take priority, and I want them to, but…..I just kind of really need that bank card in order to get some $hit done down here in the earthly realm.

I’m not one to watch many movies, but lately I’ve just needed to escape into some kind of feel-good screen therapy. My latest drug of choice was a delightful little movie called ‘Letters to Juliet’. I am most certainly NOT recommending it because I don’t want to hear from anyone who says it’s a cheesy giant cliche. Maybe it is, but it offered a little bit of welcome happy magic to me as I feel like I’m floundering in a french quagmire of challenge.

Letters to Juliet is the story of a young girl played by the absolutely gorgeous Amanda Seyfried who stumbles upon ‘the secretaries of Juliet’ who are the Veronese women hired by the city to reply to all the letters written to the famous Juliet Capulet. In a lovely twist of fate involving her ill-suited fiance, she ends up replying to an overlooked letter from 50 years ago and setting off a chain of events that leads to the search of one woman’s unrequited love.

The story is a beautiful adventure through the most absolutely stunning Tuscan countryside. It is everywhere I would like to be right now. And it gives me pause.

When I was looking at being an exchange student all those years ago, I had wanted to go to Australia, but my mom insisted I go somewhere where I would learn a different language and expand my cultural awareness. So I went to Venezuela.

When Georgia was applying to design schools, it’s no secret that I thought the ‘right’ choice for her was the Design Academy in Eindhoven in Holland. But when she got the nod from Paris, everything else faded to black. She was determined to be here, and I wanted HER to make her own decisions. But I also didn’t think it would be a great idea for her to hit Paris alone. After all, Paris is a big city, with the propensity for danger. ( #MuggingMuch ?! ) So I wanted to accompany her and ease in the transition.

I’m not sure I’ve succeeded thus far with easing much, however. I think my frustration with most things French hasn’t been very easy for her (or Roo) to endure. And maybe it was a mistake to think I could handle the chaos of all things big city-ish nevermind, en Francais. Big cities and I are not bosom buddies. I question my sanity in being here every time I head to the gym to out-run my thoughts and to enjoy the gym’s wonderful peace and quiet.

I was on the treadmill the other day and my favorite Prince song came on. I couldn’t believe the flood of memories the song brought back. These must be some of the best song lyrics I know. (I know I don’t get out much, but the whole ‘Trojans/horses’ analogy is still as amazing now as it was all those years ago.) I was close to Rupert’s age when the Purple Rain album came out. My beloved aunties bought me the cassette for my birthday and I played it non-stop on my waterproof bright yellow Sony Walkman.

Anyway, with one thing and another I find myself daydreaming about the ‘what if’s’. And if Roo and I happen to disappear, I can tell you where to find us. I will have found us a bright orange Ferrari California and we will be racing through the rural Italian countryside in search of the next best olive oil, with Prince’s “Little Red Corvette” blaring in the offensive way in which only North Americans are capable.

“Buckle-Up Bitches!” (as my favorite fashion design student in Paris is known to say…)
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Parles Francais?….

Bumbling along in one of the most beautiful cities in the world with my rudimentary language skills.

One of my dear friends (and my former boss back in my advertising hey day…😄) has the most amazing brain that is always curious and hooked into whats happening here, there and everywhere. She is coming to visit and I couldn’t be more excited to trail her around this city that she knows better than me. She has also been a wonderful resource sending me so many interesting articles about living in Paris/France.

When one moves to a foreign country, one of the best ways for it to cease to feel foreign is for you to be able to converse in the language. Well, I have a little experience in speaking French but I am definitely not where I would like to be. That said, I keep plodding away with lessons and enthusiasm. (I suspect both are of equal importance! ;o)

But my aforementioned friend sent me an article about the French and how their language informs how they communicate. I found it super interesting.

Apparently the English language has 500,000 words and French has 70,000. I am sort of stumped to hear this. French is rumoured to be THE language of love afterall….maybe keeping it simple makes it sexiest?! I have no idea but as always, color me intrigued.

I also have to admit to feeling weirdly grateful to have english as a my first language if the bit about word use is correct. I am someone who LOVES words. I love learning vocabulary and I am weirdly obsessed and delighted with knowing as many of our words as possible. Afterall, the ability to very precisely articulate my thoughts and ideas is of great importance to me.

I just enjoyed a visit from a very dear longtime friend and we were speaking about our human frailities. She said she had realized she has a deep desire to be liked and accepted. I said I could understand that, and that my own fraility is similar but with a twist. I have a deep need to be understood. And for that reason, the ability to hold an arsenal of vocabulary to enable articulation of my perspective is a huge joy.

So this means the discovery that the French language, again…perpetuated to be one of the most endearing and romantic in the world, contains only 70,000 words is so surprising to me. Mais, ce n’est pas possible! How do the French manage to sound so damn sexy and beautiful with their, can I say it, *limited* language?!

So of course now I’m thinking, and I’m observing how our languages differ.

I went to the gym today after 5 (very sad) days off because of a very unfortunate mancold. (I am really getting some milage out of this whole mancold thing. Usually I get a bug and throw it off, but this bug really grappled on with a vengeance and definitely deserved the ‘mancold’ moniker, but i digress…) Do the French “digress”? More likely they ‘step’ or ‘pass’ or something else that they also do in 25 other situations.

For that is what I have determined is the difference between French and English. In English we are super specific and super direct. We have a specific word to describe precisely what we mean. The French are more laissez-faire with the whole concept of words. The same word can be used to mean a few different things depending on which words precede it and which come after.

I love this concept of french language because in practical terms it means you are playing russian roulette on a daily basis, haha. Here is what I mean….getting back to the gym. (See I always loop around even if it takes me a while.)

So I’m back at the gym this morning and the lovely gentleman there asks how I am and I can tell by his intimation that he recognizes I’ve been absent. I’m not in the habit of whining about maladies but I do like to try and make conversation and I could tell he had noticed my absence so I prepared myself to say ‘I was sick.” I said “J’etais” and paused while I searched for the word ‘sick’.

He looked on with interest as I paused. In my mind I knew I had said “J’etais…” as in “I was” but it also sounds like ‘jete’ (or jetee, or jetes, or jetees) which google (translate) tells me, means ‘throw’, but years of ballet also tell me it means ‘jump’, as in ‘Grand Jete’, so while i paused for a micro second to search for the word ‘sick’, he was actually no closer to knowing what I was about to say.

It took the word “malade” after the “j’etais” for him to know I was whining about having been sick, as opposed to saying something weirdly random about throwing or jumping. And this examplifies EXACTLY what I have experienced in blundering around trying to speak French: that the specific words mean less actually than their context and relation to the words on either side of them.

I am happy admitting that I am a total weirdo who thinks of things like this, but it is a really fascinating concept to me about the power of context. It also explains why the French are perceived as being ‘subtle’ and perhaps a bit ‘circumspect’. Their subtlety comes from their lack of word choice I think. Can I say that?! It’s not meant to be critical, it’s just meant to be an observation. I am constantly surprised to type different things into Google Translate for help in relaying what I want to say and seeing the same words for different meanings.

In the article my friend sent to me,

“context includes tone, body language, setting and situation.” INSEAD Business School Professor Erin Meyer identifies 8 scales to demonstrate how different cultures relate. She says countries like the US and Australia are low-context cultures where people generally say what they mean. However France, like Russia and Japan, tends to be a high context culture, where good communication is sophisticated, nuanced and layered. Messages are both spoken and read between the lines.”

Meyer explains that because the French have access to fewer words than English speakers, Francophones must string together a series of words to communicate their message. “This not only forces the French to be more creative with language, it also allows them to be more ambiguous with what they want to say.”

Wow….I have to sit with that for a moment. I already feel duped somehow. I am not someone who favors ambiguity and it’s a challenging concept to realize it’s a fundamental underlier for some of the world’s languages. I can see this needs to be a new challenge for me: to accept, and groan….’learn to enjoy’…lack of clairity. Gaaaaa, it makes my eye twitch just even considering it….wink, wink. Why would less clear be better?!

In the article Meyers explains how these differences affect how different cultures conduct business meetings. The French have grown up with the concept that no doesnt mean no (and I’m NOT making reference to consent during sex but that is an interesting aside I now think.) Anyway, in French, ‘no’ may mean no, yes or maybe. Apparently it is taught in school to argue one’s point from both sides and then to draw a summary, hence when French business people say ‘no’ they are often actually meaning to open and invite a discussion for debate. Huh. Is that so?!

And….apparently there are a bouquet of ‘no-s’ which can mean a variety of things.

Groan!…a bouquet of ‘no-s’ which mean a whole host of differing things?! Mon Dieux! I am clearly such an Anglophone!!! I thrive on clear specific precise communication. This whole ‘no might mean 10 things situation’ does not make immediate sense to me….especially because as a Canadian, I was raised to be ‘respectful’. Generally speaking, if Canadians are told no, we tend not to argue the point, and instead ‘behave ourselves, and retreat.’

This cultural difference however does help me to understand how and why I felt so much irritation and frustration trying to get visas and then more recently trying to get a bank account and do other basic life activities.

Researchers suggest that the ‘no’ so favoured by the French comes from a cultural obsession with not wanting to be blamed for being wrong. Hmmm. And the practice of saying ‘no’ a few times before saying ‘yes’ seems so ingrained in culture that people factor it into their conversations and planning, even within families between husbands and wives.

Cultural consultant Polly Platt describes a scenario whereby she convinces her husband to go on a vacation to the place of her choosing. Platt says she knows her husband will automatically say ‘no’ to her first few suggestions so knowing this she puts out some decoy suggestions that are not her actual choice. As predicted her husband says no to her first 3 suggestions and then finally agrees on her last suggestion…which was actually her first choice.

OH. MY. GOD. REALLY?! This is a CULTURAL NORM?! Wow. I had no idea how North American I really am. I don’t have interest or patience for these kind of ‘games’. I know it risks sounding judgemental to refer to a cultural norm as being a game but I struggle to see it differently. (And Oh Dear, I hate it when I am confronted with how set in my ways I really am. It’s indeed a sobering thought. I thought I was adaptable and open minded. Apparently not…)

I can’t help but wonder if this same strategy relates to shopping for women? Does this mean she shows her male partner 3 items she has zero interest in before showing him the 4th item which is actually the one she covets? Good lord….what a time suck?! Who can be bothered with this farce?! My motto for shopping is ‘Get in, get the thing you want, get out!’ Wow…I am SO not French!!!

In the French language, “I love” and “I like” are the same?! What the actual heck?! I’ve seen that “I feel” and “I think” also have one translation…and yet they are NOT the same thing I would argue! I will start to keep track of other examples because there truly have been so many, already!… (And I’m pretty sure Ms. Meyers is waiting with baited breath for my elucidating perspective complete with examples to hit her inbox….bahahaha.) And it is only because I have a little prior experience with French that I can read the suggested translation when it’s offered to me and then go back in and search for an existing French word that better articulates what I want to say.

But for now whether I like or love something remains for the listener to decide. No wonder the French are considered some of the world’s best lovers?!…. 😉✨

This article (link below) explaining how/why the French don’t get ‘excited’ is also fantastic. It explains how the French live in the verb of ‘to be’ whereas as North Americans we live in the land of ‘to do’ or ‘to have’. We live in the future and it could be argued it’s to our detriment. We are always planning and looking forward, often forgetting to just sit and enjoy the now.

The article further articulates our cultural differences. It is also a great reminder never to tell a French person you are excited unless it’s intended as a romantic overture because in French ‘excited’ references physical stimulation or arousal. In French ‘arousal’ and ‘emotional enthusiasm’ must share a verb. C’est vraiment dommage, non?…

http://www.bbc.com/travel/story/20181104-why-the-french-dont-show-excitement

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Lessons From Fashion’s Best

Anna Wintour: Masterclass in Teaching Leadership and Creativity

I am a huge fan of the MasterClass App. I love the fact I can take courses wherever I go (and lectures can be downloaded for offline viewing on planes etc.) The app also has a wonderful concentration of ‘industry bests’. To be clear, I’m not sponsored by the app, although I’m thinking it might be something for me to pursue!! I am just a legit fan because I love to learn but also want to do it on my own schedule and locale. (I practice yoga the same way but will leave my yoga app endorsement for another post!)

The courses offered on the MasterClass App are so varied and regardless of one’s field of interest, the knowledge imparted by instructors always seems widely applicable. Malcolm Gladwell was my favorite because his energy and passion for his craft and its subjects sparkles palpably, but the (new) Anna Wintour class I just finished was profoundly more thought provoking and inspiring than I would have imagined.

https://youtu.be/j7BkeFy_L94

I was very surprised by Georgia’s choice to study Fashion in Paris. I thought she would choose perhaps a more varied design education where she would learn industrial design, commercial interior design and residential interior design. But her dad and I brought her to Paris at the age of 8 for her ‘alone (with us but without her brothers) trip’ and the city made its indelible mark on her. So when she decided to study Fashion in Paris I decided to learn all I can about the industry because it’s not something in which I’ve had a huge amount of interest.

I suppose I just didn’t really understand why people follow Fashion. Wearing the latest creation of a popular designer or fashion house has never seemed to me like evidence of original thinking. But having finished Anna Wintour’s Masterclass I am pleased to say she has very much broadened my perspective of the role of fashion in the world.

I think one of my main take aways from her course is that not everyone can be a creative leader, but everyone can contribute in a creative way to influencing the world around them. Some people design clothes and others wear them, but those wearing them can be influencers in their own right. Anna Wintour, Editor in Chief of US Vogue magazine since 1988, seems not only to be an incredibly intelligent and not the least bit vacuous person, but also highly aware of the impact and role that fashion can and should play in the world at large. I found her perspective as being considered one of the (if not THE) most influential fashion personalities in the world entirely engaging and illuminating.

Here are some of the most salient points I gleened:

  1. Give people change. People want to have their perspectives challenged and informed even if they enjoy moaning about it. People look to industry leaders to suggest new ways of thinking, being and doing.
  2. Lead from the heart. Choose to work with people who stand for something…and if they stand for something different than you do, become informed from their perspective. Everyone has something to teach us.
  3. Lead by instict, and don’t succumb to outdated thinking. Often the business minds that are behind the creative minds have dramatically different ideas about the creative world, but as a creative person you have to confidently stick to your guns and trust your own inclinations (and learn some powerful tools of persuasion.)
  4. Let the master lead. Always be seeking and supporting new talent if you are lucky enough to find it. (And if you can, make sure it’s someone’s specific job to seek new talent in every area of your business.) And when you find these people, listen to them! Be confident enough to recognize they may very well have a better idea than you do and that your job is to support the best idea, not generate all of them yourself.
  5. Keep your ear to the ground. Every industry is influenced by the world at large and the changes that are always occurring in culture. Being creative is about allowing yourself and your direction to morph as you recognize how the world around you is shifting. I personally liked this point because I made me hopeful that the fashion world is very much aware and is responding the the demands we humans we are inflicting upon the world. This makes me hopeful that tomorrow’s designers who are more ecologically minded will be recognized and supported for their innovation in fashion by fashion media leaders.
  6. Bring others into the process and trust your team. This relates to the point about letting the master lead. It’s important to love a surprise, and to force yourself to remain open to the unexpected. Anna Wintour speaks about various shoots she had envisioned entirely differently but when the photographer, art director, stylists and models etc. were there in the moment together, they all responded to the energy and forged their own way. Having confidence in one’s team to delight you inspires them to continue to do so.
  7. Don’t take credit. Always recognize that every accomplishment is the result of a team of people, so always acknowledge the successes as they occur but give specific credit to others. Empowering those around you will make everyone’s work better.
  8. Take risks and be willing to make mistakes (and then own them, learn from them and move on from them.) Being bold and being wrong creates more learning than cruising along doing the same old thing.
  9. You learn by giving back. Anna Wintour started the CFDA – Vogue Fashion Fund Awards which support young designers by awarding them grants to launch their businesses. She says the visits to the studios of designers and engaging with them is some of her most important work, not just in supporting and encouraging those designers but through being able to see the world through their eyes. She says she learns as much from designers starting out as from the established industry masters.

And my favorite take away, because I’m someone who hasn’t really understood the role that fashion can play in the bigger world is:

10. Find the bigger meaning in your work. There are always ways to speak to the world’s woes in a creative way that can lead to progressive thought and change. In a polarized world it is imperative to take a stand for what you believe in even when and perhaps especially if it’s unpopular. Everyone has a voice. Listen to them all. Encourage discourse so you make an informed perspective on what to support. It’s a serious responsibility to form an educated opinion and share it by creating work that supports it.

The September Issue of Fashion Magazines is the most important one for a fashion magazine apparently, and there is a film about Anna Wintour and her team’s creation of one of those editions. Here is the trailer. I’ve not seen it yet, but the trailer depicts a more ‘cutting’ version of Anna Wintour than was my impression of her from her MasterClass. In her MasterClass series she seems entirely approachable and open minded, gracious and charismatic, but I’m sure she also needs to be discerning and determined and sometimes uncompromising to be the successful head of America’s most influential fashion media outlet. And so should she be.

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Media influences du Jour

After a busy couple of weeks of packing and moving and unpacking and settling and school readying, I’ve succumbed to a bug and am feeling very ‘harumphhh’. I would like to ring the little bell from the ManCold Video, and have someone soothingly whisper, ‘Poor Little Bunny’, but instead I’ve been consoling myself with some reading and movie viewing.

Georgia’s acting coach recommended the movie ‘Phantom Thread’ to me. Daniel Day Lewis once again plays an almost maniacal creative genius, akin to his role in Nine. I loved his portrayal of the Italian filmmaker in that movie and his work as a British fashion designer in Phantom Thread is even more impressive.

https://youtu.be/xNsiQMeSvMk

I hesitate to give away the plot but let me say that while the story weaves a thread of fashion, it is more about relationships: with oneself, and with others. The portrayal of his relationship with a local waitress who becomes his muse, lover and wife is strikingly powerful. I had not anticipated how their connection would unfold. It was extremely curious to me to watch the dynamics of power shift between the two individuals, one the fastidious creative master and the other his initially timid muse.

I love when movies and books leave me processing for days and this one has done just that. The power differential between any two individuals who make a couple is always interesting to witness, and when a partnership lasts for years, it inevitably endures all sorts of challenges which change the dynamic. One of the most common changes/challenges for a couple is the creation of a family, and the acquisition of a home and lifestyle, but there are many other strains a couple can experience. Some face the acquisition of fame, or fortune, (or the loss of either/both), others experience one (or both) of the individuals experiencing sickness or other hardship.

The winding journey of the relationship between the famous designer and his seemingly quiet wife was vividly portrayed. My favorite scene was also one which made me cringe to see myself in it.

The designer, who we have seen enjoying the same daily ritual of sketching and planning his day while quietly eating breakfast, is thrown completely off when his lover spends the night and joins him at the table the following morning. His lover noisily slices butter and scratches her knife on her toast. She holds the tea pot up very high and then tips it dramatically so the water has a long distance to land in the tea cup below. She even manages to make stirring the milk in her tea a noisy and off-putting affair.

As this unfolds, the camera pans back and forth between the noise she is making of eating breakfast as many ‘normal’ people would do and the face of the designer as he gets increasingly annoyed with the disruption of his serene routine. His long curls come out of place from his carefully styled hair and fall maddeningly into his eyes with every obtrusive disturbance she creates. He pushes his curls aside and vainly tries to block out his lover’s breakfast noises. Not being able to withstand it any longer he finally barks at her to please stop having so much ‘movement’ and “distraction’ at breakfast.

I laughed and also blanched because I could relate so much to his frustrations. I spend an embarrassing amount of energy trying not to be put-off by the actions of others. If someone is tapping his pen, or jiggling her foot it becomes an unescapable ticker-tape of annoyance in my head. If someone is coughing or clearing their throat, or worse yet, smoking and sending plumes in my direction I am completely put off. The more I try to block it out, the more obvious it becomes. I find myself looking at others to see if they have picked up on what seems to be an obvious and obtrusive disruption to my thought process, and lament to see that I am often alone in my heightened irritation.

The designer is portrayed as the stereotypical ‘mad’ creative genius who is a tyrant, getting angry at his wife for having brought him tea when he was working. She says something along the lines of ‘Ok, Ok, I will take it away. No harm done.’ but he snaps in reply that the harm of her interruption will remain long after she (and her tea) have left.

The designer is clearly a self-absorbed narcissistic pain in the ass, and yet she loves him and comes to understand his eccentricities. She handles and ultimately tames him in a way I had not predicted. The movie reminded me, albeit in a perplexing disturbing way, that what we often see occurring between a couple is really just the tip of the ice burg.

Conversely, I am enjoying a warm fuzzy feeling since having read Mitch Albom’s “The Next Person You Meet in Heaven”. It is the sequel to “The Five People You Meet in Heaven” which I somehow missed. But I loved “Tuesdays With Morrie” and pulled this off my shelf as I lay tucked under covers this weekend.

The story opens with a young bride, Annie, mere hours before her death. I was reminded of Harrison telling me I needed a strong hook to pull my readers in because Albom’s hook was strong and had me from the first sentence.

Annie had a difficult childhood and feels she is the constant ‘maker of mistakes’. Eddie was a ‘nobody who did nothing of any importance’ and this is a tale of how their lives intersect to create meaning for them both. It is magical fable of how everything that happens in life to us as humans is meant to be, and is all just part of our evolutionary process.

There were some beautiful quotes in this speedy quick read that I would highly recommend. For those of us who are animal lovers, Albom’s portrayal of Annie’s childhood dog is truly heart warming and his description of this dog’s view of heaven made me teary. He also has a keen observation on loneliness:

“We fear loneliness, but loneliness itself does not exist. It has no form. It is merely a shadow that falls over us. And just as shadows die when light changes, that sad feeling can depart once we see the truth.”

(And the subtext is that loneliness cannot exist for the evolved in the presence of an animal. I could not agree more and was reminded of how much I enjoyed Matt Haig’s book ‘The Humans’, and his depiction of an alien learning to love a dog.)

Albom also handles deftly, the parent-child relationship. He observes:

“Children begin by needing their parents. Over time, they reject them. Eventually, they become them.”

He also ruminates,

“On earth, we get the what of things. The why takes a little longer.”

I find this to be a beautiful concept: that our so called ignorance as humans is all part of our evolution. We aren’t supposed to know all the answers as earthly creatures. I love the idea that it takes the transition into becoming a heavenly body in order to understand what all the earthly time meant. It also helps us tolerate the end of life on earth for people which he observes is often very difficult for most of us.

Albom closes the story with a very meaningful take-away. Annie thinks she is on a quest to make peace with the people in her earthly past and Eddie, who has already transitioned to the heavenly realm gently reveals,

“(Your mother) was right about making peace,” he said. “But she didn’t mean with me. You only have peace when you make it with yourself. I had to learn that the hard way.”

“The truth is, I spent years thinking I was doing nothing ’cause I was a nobody. You spent years doing lots of things and thinking they were all mistakes.”

He exhaled. “We were both wrong.”

“There’s no such thing as a nobody. And there are no mistakes.”

This is a quick and magical little read for all of us earthly creatures trying to learn the messages of the heavens.