A Day at the Museum

The San Francisco Museum of Modern Art is closing in two weeks for a few years for renovations and expansions so I had to visit while I had the chance. It’s small compared to New York’s MoMA but the experience is strangely similar.

I think realized it somewhere in the middle of the Gary Winogold exhibition, looking at photographs of 1960s Los Angeles. Or maybe it was when I came around the corner and the sight of one of Damien Hirst’s Dots paintings took my breath away. Or it could have been when I was standing in a small room surrounded by Robert Rauschenbergs, an old favorite.

I can’t go through a museum slowly. I always start that way; I’m one of those people that begins with a slow pace, pausing in front of each piece, studying it for a deeper meaning, observing form and technique, hoping some of the artist’s feeling rubs off on me. But as I go, I start to move faster and faster. The museum gives me a feeling I can only describe as a sense of wonder. Being surrounded by art that spans human history overwhelms me. So I have to move faster. The wonder is a motivation to pick up my dusty sketchbook, or pull out my old paint set, or grab my camera. There’s an urgency to create.

Museums are transient spaces—like airports and cathedrals—you enter one way, but you exit another. You exit with wonder and awe and inspiration.

“Once a job transcends into craft and from there into art, a door opens. Our craft becomes a canvas for something new and exciting. It never leaves, never fades into the background, but becomes the strong scaffold upon which new things are built.”
“I don’t believe in process. In fact, when I interview a potential employee and he or she says that “it’s all about the process,” I see that as a bad sign. The problem is that at a lot of big companies, process becomes a substitute for thinking. You’re encouraged to behave like a little gear in a complex machine. Frankly, it allows you to keep people who aren’t that smart, who aren’t that creative.”
Elon Musk, my current entrepreneurial hero, from this interview with Wired’s Chris Anderson from October.
“Always be around. Come or go to everything. Always go to classes. Read anything you can get your hands on. Look at movies carefully, often. Save everything - it might come in handy later.”
From Sister Corita Kent’s 10 Rules for Students, populized by John Cage.
“When someone creates something and puts it in front of you, that thing came from inside of them, and if you make them feel bad, it’s going to be hard to fix, because you’ve actually crushed them.”
Jenna Lyons, Executive Creative Director and President of J.Crew, on managing creative people
“When I am writing, my problems become invisible, and I am the same person I always was. All is well. I am as I should be.”
Roger Ebert, RIP
“Be disciplined. Work hard. Be prepared to hear “no” a lot and don’t care. My dad taught me an important lesson, which is to look at why someone does something rather than what they actually do. A lot of artists are making art because they they want to be cool and they want people to like them. That’s the wrong reason to be making art. Be prepared to have a lot of people not enjoy your work and have it not bother you; you should do it because you want to do it.”
The Great Discontent interviews Oliver Jeffers

The Makers

Everything is made.

History.
Promises.
Wishes.
Friends.

Computers.
Films.
Quilts.
Shakespeare.

Theories.
Tools.

Our habits.
Our homes.
Our relationships.

Our future.

The future
is something we make.
The world isn’t done yet.
We can make tomorrow
better.

There’s more work to do.

“I’ll watch a genius do anything. I’ll watch my friend Andy use Photoshop to erase color impurities on the same image for an hour because he sees things I don’t see. I’ll watch him until I see that he sees them. It’s like opening a gift. Or the original meaning of ‘apocalypse’: the lifting of the veil.”
Sarah Manguso, from David Shields’s New York Times piece on How to Write Yourself into Existence
“Where your feet take you, that is who you are. My feet are crossed under the table where I write. The heel of one is pressed against the instep of the other. My legs are broken.”

John Hodgman’s advice to writers: writing what you know is not enough—you actually have to know interesting things. And the only way to learn interesting things is to experience life; to orient your life in such a way that you regularly encounter things to incorporate into your work.

“I’d like to believe that I wouldn’t have been one of those infamous British people who tried to boo Dylan offstage when he went electric, but on the evidence of past form I very much fear I would have. We want our artists to remain as they were when we first loved them. But our artists want to move.”