For just a few weeks, Richmond is home to quite the collection of Picasso's art. Now, i am not one to frequent art galleries nor do i study art history in my spare time but some things you just have to do. so i went. in conversation with my companion for the day i compared it to seeing the rolling stones. i am certainly not a fan of their music but that is no reason why i shouldnt experience what is said to be a legendary show at least one time. if i thought otherwise, i would have missed out on how bad-ass elton john was in concert. so yeah, i went. for the most part i walked slowly while scratching my head and feeling ever so confused. ocassionally one of these completely abstract and totally bizarre paintings would stop me in my tracks. i felt a little stupid just standing there trying to figure out what it was about it that pulled me in. thats when it hit me again.... just like music. i dont love every song that any artist has written. i skip tracks on a cd all the time. when i finally land on one that i love.... i can sing every word, tap along to every tiny detail of the beat and i play it over and over and over and over and over. to top it off, i rarely know what the artist was trying to convey. i just love the piece. that opened me up to the idea that maybe i have been missing out on something special. maybe some pale still life of a two apples on a plate... on a pitcher, can really mean a whole lot more to me than i ever expected. it was a good lesson in being open to new ideas and perspectives.
here is one that i really wanted to take home with me.
so after i learned that lesson, i took a class in exterminating unjustified inhibitions. i played catch. now i would first like to straighten out one thing. i am not athletic. chances are i have not played catch in 20 years. when a woman who keeps a baseball mitt in her car asks an athletically handicapped man to play catch, you best bet that he has some apprehensions. in addition to that... i have a further handicap. i throw AND catch with my left hand. so the problem here is either i 1)repeatedly take the glove off and put it back on in order to comfortably play, 2)play with no glove and have a bruised palm the next day or 3) suck it up and try to throw with my right arm. well, like any proud non-directions-asking-"dont worry about me, i got it"-club-toting male... i sucked it up. i learned quite quickly that i throw with the wrong hand just fine. that made me feel really good. while that is great and a lesson learned.... thats not my lesson. my lesson.... i figured that no matter what, no matter which hand i used to throw, i was going to look like a tard-o. up until the very second that i threw the ball, i knew i was just going to humiliate myself. well, when her glove caught the ball and there was no laughter, i was a wiser person. i knew right then that you just cant let your inhibitions rule your life. sometimes you have to do the hokey pokey or talk baby talk or wear a stupid hat to enjoy life. today, i just had to play catch, with the wrong hand.
combined life lessons: surprises are everywhere... except where you already are. go live.