James Baldwin on Anger and Pain

 

James Baldwin writing

“I imagine one of the reasons people cling to their hates so stubbornly is because they sense, once hate is gone, they will be forced to deal with pain.”

Taken from this short essay on Medium.

A new documentary about Baldwin’s life and his arrival from Paris to the United States was launched last year. It’s called I am not Your Negro. It’s one of the most moving documentaries I have ever seen.

James Baldwin

James Baldwin cigar

Images of Baldwin are taken from NITCH

Chronos and Kairos: Two Meanings of Time Explained by a Franciscan Priest Richard Rohr

 

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Image by Darkness. Via: (Unsplash)

 

I love discovering new words, especially words that we don’t normally use, words on the margin, words that hold so much truth and aliveness. Those are words that can speak directly to our experiences when we run out of things to articulate.

In a podcast that I recently listened to, Richard Rohr, a Franciscan priest of the New Mexico Province and founder of the Center for Action and Contemplation in Albuquerque, New Mexico, unleashes his reflection on two different meanings of time: chronological time and deep time. These concepts of time are rooted from Greek words, chronos and kairos.

Chronological time (chronos), as he argues, is the time that ticks. It’s, for instance, when a bored student stares at the watch in his class, wishing the class would end faster. Chronological time is the short and structured time we inhabit. Unlike chronological time, deep time (kairos) is grand and audacious. Living in deep time means looking at a longer view of time with an unflinching optimism, believing that every moment in our culture is a blink that will pass. As Rohr succinctly says, deep time is, “where time comes to a fullness, and the dots connect.”

The transcript of the interview:

Krista Tippett: “A phrase that you use a lot that I’d like you to just flesh out is an aspect of this progression towards meaning, towards spiritual fullness, is ‘living in deep time.’ Just say what you’re saying there.”

Richard Rohr: “OK, well, let me say, first of all, I’m not sure what I mean by that. [laughs] But a phrase was used in medieval Catholic spirituality was ‘the eternal now.’ ‘When time comes to its fullness,’ is the biblical phrase. I’m sure you’ve been told that in the Greek, in the New Testament, there’s two words for time. Chronos is chronological time, time as duration, one moment after another, and that’s what most of us think of as time.

But there was another word in Greek, kairos. And kairos was deep time. It was when you have those moments where you say, ‘Oh my God, this is it. I get it,’ or, ‘This is as perfect as it can be,’ or, ‘It doesn’t get any better than this,’ or, ‘This moment is summing up the last five years of my life,’ things like that where time comes to a fullness, and the dots connect, when we can learn how to more easily go back to those kind of moments or to live in that kind of space.

Now, I think that’s what the tradition means by the word ‘contemplation,’ that to be a contemplative is to learn to trust deep time and to learn how to rest there and not be wrapped up in chronological time. Because what you’ve learned, especially by my age, is that all of it passes away. The things that you’re so impassioned about when you’re 22 or 42 don’t even mean anything anymore, and yet, you got so angry about it or so invested in it.

So already, the desert fathers and mothers discovered this word ‘contemplation’ because I believe they found the word that most believers use, the word ‘prayer,’ to be so trivialized, so cheapened by misuse. Prayer was sort of a functional thing you did to make announcements to God or tell God things, which God already knew, of course. And they created another word to give us access to this deep time, and that word that kept recurring throughout the 2,000-year history of Christianity was the contemplative mind. It’s a different form of consciousness. It’s a different form of time.

Let me add one thing. We used to, in Latin, use this phrase sub specie aeternitatis, and the old professor used to say, ‘Sub specie aeternitatis.’ And what it means — ‘in the light of eternity.’ In the light of eternity, this thing that you’re so worried about right now — is it really going to mean anything on your deathbed? [laughs] And for some reason, that had the power to relativize the things that a young man would get so impassioned about, positively or negatively. And those were various ways of directing us toward deep time.”

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Love is a stronger than death. Image by Peter Tandlund. 2012. Via: (Flickr)

 

To enjoy the full podcast:

Milton Glaser on the Problem with New Ideas, Overcoming Creative Block, and Doing Good Work as an Artist

 

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Milton Glaser. Via: (FLICKR)

 

Milton Glaser is one of the most celebrated and revered Graphic Designers in the world. If you have not seen any of his work,  check out his iconic I ♥ NY logo and Bob Dylan poster for Columbia record, to name a few. In a recent interview with Creative Boom, an online art magazine based in Manchester, UK, Glaser sat down with Katy Cowan and he generously shared what he has learned throughout his life about his intense and passionate engagement with the world of graphic design. The conversation covers so many insightful topics but I decided to highlight some of my favorites such as: the impracticality of new ideas, overcoming creative block, and the best advice he’s ever received.

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I Love NY Campaign by Milton Glaser. Via: (MiltonGlaser.com)

 

On the problem with finding new ideas:

“The problem really is that there are too many ideas. The question is how do you avoid new ideas as well as deal with the ones you know and make them deeper and more penetrating and more significant. The new is not always the most beneficial realm although in many areas of communication the new is useful because it engages people or surprises people or compels them to ask, what was that question? In any case, the question of finding new ideas is irrelevant.”

When he was asked, “Do you ever suffer from creative block? And if so, what do you do to overcome it?” Glaser says that we need to embrace creative block as a natural part of creative process, because, at the end, it can lead us to a place that can fuel our work.

He says:

“I embrace it. When you are blocked, you know you have something to do. And also it is not a permanent condition. A block basically leads you elsewhere and very frequently that is precisely what is needed. A block comes from doing the same thing too many times and running out of gas. As I frequently quote Picasso, ‘once you’ve mastered something, you can abandon it.'”

In consonance with Patti Smith’s advice to any aspiring artist, the best advice Glaser has ever received came from his junior high school teacher. It’s about doing good work, exerting oneself devotedly to one’s own work and forgetting the result because, at the end, as one wise man said, “Doing the work is enough.

“Do good work. It’s advice my junior high school teacher once told me after he understood that I was not going to be a scientist. I had chosen the road of art. Nevertheless, he gave me a box of contact crayons and told me ‘do good work.’ Those words have never diminished in my mind.”

The whole conversation is fantastic! As I was doing research on his life for my blog, I came upon this video about him created by Hilman Curtis.

 

The most poignant lines:

“I think the most interesting thing that one can say about one’s later life is that if you can sustain your interest in what you’re doing, you’re an extremely fortunate person. What you see very frequently in people’s professional lives, and perhaps in their emotional life as well, is that they lose interest in the third act. You sort of get tired, and indifferent, and sometimes, defensive, and you kind of lose your capacity for astonishment. And it’s a great loss because the world is a very astonishing place. So I think what I feel fortunate about is that I am still astonished that things still amaze me and I think that the great benefit of being in the arts where the possibility for learning never disappears us, where you basically have to admit you never learn it. “