Elaine Smith Writes

Anything She Wants

What happened

To my artist brain?

This is what I want to know.

I’m convinced we all start out with the ability to be hugely creative—and then, something happens.

I don’t know what.

Maybe an art teacher laughs at a drawing.  Maybe we make too early comparisons between our own lopsided clay pots and the Ming vases we see in museums.  Maybe we just get too caught up in linear thinking to make the leaps and connections required for innovation.

Something happens, though.

Usually, I think of myself as moderately creative.  I have had some success with writing.  I did recently discover a heretofore underestimated aptitude for drawing.

But then I see something like this:

And I wonder.

 

Five minutes

That’s all.

Got a goal you’re having trouble achieving?

See if a timer will help you.

Procrastination.

It’s hard work to write a novel, keep a house clean, make a painting. We don’t like to get started because it commits us to a long process. But most of us can face five minutes of anything.

So, start small.

Write for five minutes.  Dust for five minutes.  Paint for…well, ok, painting might need larger chunks of time.  There’s a lot of prep and a lot of clean-up.  But the principle is the same.

If you set a timer, you have an exit strategy.  You can begin already knowing that you don’t have to continue for the rest of your life.  No matter how horrible the task becomes, there is an end point.

I love timers.

Quite often, when they go off, I am interested and immersed in what I am doing, and I continue on beyond the beep, beep, beep.  But I don’t have to, and that can make all the difference between getting started on something or spending another half day on Facebook.  (Now, there’s another use for a timer.  Use it to limit those time-wasting activities!)

It doesn’t really matter what interval you use in setting the timer.  If you can face thirty minutes of housework, go for it.  The point is just to go into any task for which you are experiencing reluctance with an escape hatch.

Maybe, when the timer goes off, you’ll want to continue.  Maybe not.  Either way, you’re some number of minutes closer to your goal.

You can get timers in any dollar store, Radio Shack, grocery store.  It’s nice to have several actual physical timers that you can keep in strategic areas of the house and move around as necessary.

Until you lay in a supply, however, you can use this one:

E.ggtimer.com

Go ahead.

Start that novel.

Just five minutes.

Ideas for you

For free!

I’m talking about TED Talks.

TED started in 1984 as a conference to bring together people from three disciplines:  Technology, Entertainment, and Design.  It has since grown to include experts from almost every field of human endeavor in two annual conferences.

More than 1400 TED Talks are available online and have been viewed over a billion times.  They are posted under a Creative Commons license, so they are free to re-post and share.

Participants in TED are challenged to give the talk of their lives.  Scary, huh?  What’s so amazing is that most of them do.

Fascinating, informative, moving.

There is something there for everyone, and everything on the website merits your investment of your twenty-or-so minutes to listen.

I, myself, am partial to Brene Brown’s talk on vulnerability.  And I love poet and teacher Sarah Kay’s If I should have a daughter.  You can find links to both of them on the introductory page New to TED?

There are various other compilations of recommended talks.

12 TED Talks that Every Human Should Watch

Five Key TED Talks

and lots more you can find by googling.

You can just go to the TED site and work your way through everything there.  (I keep meaning to do that.  Maybe one a day—like a vitamin!)

But, what a miracle!

These marvelous thinkers and speakers, sharing their ideas with us.  Costing nothing more than a few minutes of our time.  A bigger investment than scanning a Facebook meme or a 140-character Tweet—and with a much bigger payoff.

These are the ideas our best minds are considering.  These are the things our best speakers are talking about.

These are conferences that happen far from most of us, and we get to participate.  No admission charge, no airline ticket, no hotel fee.

What a miracle!

Harry Smith

Anchors Away.

In 2011, CBS news anchor, Harry Smith, left the network after 25 years to head on over to NBC.  I don’t watch a lot of network news, so I don’t know exactly what or how he’s doing over there, but I do remember him from The Early Show—and many stints as substitute anchor on the evening news.

Researching this post, I’ve discovered some things about Mr. Smith that I never knew and a couple of things we have in common.  We both have an undergraduate degree in theater.  His is a combined communications and theater degree from Central College in Iowa.

And we both spent time in Denver, CO.  In fact, we were there at the same time.  Who knew?!

Harry stayed longer than I did, though.

Subsequently, he spent thirteen years as a contributor to CBS Evening News and other CBS news programming, nine years as co-anchor of CBS This Morning and another nine years with CBS The Early Show along with various documentary, radio and other tv hosting tasks for other networks.

Another thing I didn’t know about him is that, apparently, he regularly commutes to work on a folding bike.

I think that’s kind of cool!

Go, Harry!

 

The time you enjoy wasting

is not wasted time.
~ Bertrand Russell

Which makes this Silly Saturday all the sillier.  Because, of all the pointless sites that I have pointed out to you in this blog, I think this may be the worst.

As far as I’m concerned, it’s not even all that enjoyable—although it does hold a certain strange fascination.  (I’m still trying to figure out what it says at the end of the game, for one thing.)

So, take a look at PressTheSpaceBar if you must and because I haven’t got anything better to show you today.

But please, please, please don’t spend more than a minute or two there.  It has no redeeming qualities other than providing me with an entry for the blog today.

Just think of all the things you could be doing instead.

Take a walk.  Talk to your significant other.  Write a poem, paint a picture, or play something that is actually fun!

The King is dead

Long live the King!

Okay.  That is a much-exaggerated headline.  (I’ve been watching Edward the Seventh on Netflix so you’ll have to forgive the royalist hyperbole.  And, may I say—just as an aside—that I had no idea Queen Victoria was such a shrew!)

Anyway, today’s post is about a Friday Find that pleases me immensely.

Once upon a time, before Blackberrys and iPhones, I had a Palm Pilot.  (I still have it.  I just don’t use it much.  Its battery life is practically non-existent at this point, and I haven’t gotten around to finding a replacement.)

I loved the Palm.

Best calendar, address book and task list I’ve yet seen.  Entry by handwriting instead of tiny, thumb-driven keyboard.

A lovely instrument.  (I must see about that battery.)

Of particular use to me was the task list.  It was so easy to categorize items, to schedule them as single or recurring tasks, to make them provide audible and insistent reminders,and, most importantly, to reschedule without having to enter them anew.

Nothing since the Palm has measured up.  (We will not even discuss the Blackberry’s feeble ToDo list.)

Until now.

There’s a free, web-based app that comes very close.

FollowUpThen

It’s totally email based.  I can send an email to remind me to write a blog post to tomorrow@followupthen, and I will get a reminder emailed to me tomorrow.  I can specify a particular date and/or time.  I can choose a specific interval—say, 3 hours or 4 days or 2 weeks.  I can create a recurring reminder—every Tuesday, every week, every month.  I can create a task which will nag me every 24 hours until I mark it complete.

In addition, I can forward emails I’ve received and get them back at a more appropriate time for follow up.  I can blind copy emails I send and be reminded to check with others.

It is the closest I’ve yet found to the—for me—nearly perfect task list functionality of my late, lamented Palm.

The only things it’s missing are the ability to organize upcoming tasks by category, the audible alerts, and an easy way to print the whole list.

The only risks to it seem to be that of any web-based app.  The creators could decide to start charging for the base service instead of the premium, or they could suddenly stop supporting it.  With software that you purchase or are otherwise allowed to own, you can use it forever—or until your computer dies and you are forced to upgrade to an incompatible operating system.  (Anyone knowing where I can get a legal copy of Windows XP against future need will get cake, by the way.)

Meanwhile, registration is easy.  Just head over to FollowUpThen and sign up.  Then you can email yourself a little reminder to thank me later.

Am I thankful?

I think I am.

But I’m not entirely sure.

I’m talking about virtual experiences.

For example, the internet fireplace.

Purists among you will be recoiling in horror, but I rather like digital fireplaces.  I have a DVD with several, and, let me tell you, it was quite a nice accessory a couple of weeks ago when we had a week of wind and rain.  The temperature outside was falling into that never-never-land where it is too warm for the heat to come on and too cold for the a/c to kick in.  Consequently, the atmosphere indoors was damp and cool and uncomfortable as only a Florida season between the extremes can be.

My fireplace DVD was a cozy little addition to the long afternoons spent with my attention divided between books and Netflix and watching the creek rise.  It’s amazing how much of an illusion of warmth is conjured by the sight of dancing flames and the sounds of burning wood.  The actual heat and the smell of wood smoke seem to be secondary to the illusion.  Now, I suspect this is because of years of conditioning to what those sights and sounds accompany.  Future generations may not get the same illusion of comfort from a virtual fireplace as I do.

And, if I had a real fireplace, I would prefer it.  I think.  On the other hand…not to have to chop wood…or clean up soot and ash…or risk burning down the house…. there’s something to be said for that.

We do have a gas fireplace here at Casa Lagarto, but it’s one of those things that was on the verge of disrepair when we got the house and has crossed over.  Unlike the a/c, it is low on the list of things to fix.

So, I am thankful today for the digital hearth.

And I am considering experiments with digital oceans and digital aquariums.  I’d be interested in digital blasted heaths, mountain streams, stone circles, too.

The thing is, I can sort of justify the energy used to play the fireplace as being less than the carbon footprint of an actual fire.  I’m not sure I could say the same for amps for any form of H2O.

So, I guess I’ll just stick to my digital fireplace and be thankful.

Putting the end of the ham

on your car’s wheels.

Apparently, we’re all doing it.

It’s a billion dollar business.

(Well, that might be an exaggeration.  The truth is I don’t know the actual figures for the profit in the hubcap industry, but I’m betting—given the number of cars on the road and the fact that most of them have at least four tires—that it is a significant sector of the economy.)

You may remember, a few weeks ago, a post wherein I was wishing for the Star Trek computer to record a moment by moment account of my life so that I could find the source of used hubcaps we bought some years ago.

Well, along the way to getting that replacement hubcap, I began to wonder why we have hubcaps at all.

I now refer you to Car Talk wherein a valiant attempt is made to justify the existence of hubcaps, but it turns out to be mostly like that old story about the end of the ham.

There are plenty of versions of it floating around.  In essence, it goes something like this:

A new husband asked his bride why she was cutting the end off the ham prior to cooking it.

She replied that she didn’t know.  Her mother had always done it that way, so she assumed it was the right thing to do.

Mom, when asked, replied the same.  Her mother had always done it, so she had carried on discarding a portion of the ham prior to cooking.

Grandma was approached.

Yes, she confirmed.  She had always cut off the end of the ham.

Why?

Because, otherwise, it didn’t fit in her pan.

This, of course, is a cautionary tale about doing things just because they’ve always been done that way.

And, it turns out, that the raison d’être of the hubcap is similar.

Hand-tightened wheel nuts might, if they fell off, clang around in a metal hubcap and alert you to a problem before you lost the actual wheel.  (Many hubcaps today are plastic, so good luck with that.  Plus, most wheel nuts are machine-tightened these days.  Good luck with changing that flat yourself, too.)

Hubcaps might help prevent the nuts from rusting to a point where they are too difficult to remove (assuming you’re going to be able to loosen those machine-tightened things anyway).  The Car Talk boys point out, however, that wheel rotation and brake inspection generally take care of that in a well-maintained vehicle.

That leaves them with the slippery slope argument.  The ‘for want of a nail’ sort of thing.  Missing hubcaps are the first step on a downward spiral where you don’t get the brakes inspected or change the oil.

Generally, however, it sounds like the end of the ham to me.

I wonder on what other things we are spending time and money for some ancient and now irrelevant tradition.  I believe I’ll try to be re-thinking things as I go along.  Sort of wondering on more than Wednesdays, so to speak.

Get in the river.

And let the river roll.

We’ve got such a linear society.

Enter kindergarten at the age of five.  Exit the school system 13, 17, 19 years later with an education (maybe) and a diploma (probably).  Get a job.  Work your way up the ladder.  Go to weddings in your youth, christenings in your middle age, and funerals in your elder years.

We’re sort of conditioned to know how things turn out.

Even the television that we watch tends to support the idea that things get solved within 42 minutes of air time plus commercials.

It can make us reluctant to embark on journeys where the destination is unclear.  Even scarier, there are journeys where we don’t even know if there is a destination.

It might be interesting to try approaching life like the explorers of old.

Henry Hudson didn’t know where the Hudson river came out.  He didn’t even know if it did.  He just set sail to see what he could see.

It’s amazing the things that happen if you just get in the river.

The current catches you.  You move along, sometimes through rapids, sometimes through shallows, but always advancing.  There are moments of great beauty and times when the current holds you up and moves you forward with unexpected support.  There are moments when the flood tide is against you and you wonder what possessed you to get started.

But it’s like the old story about the lady who resisted learning to play the piano in later life.

Do you know how old I will be when I finally learn?, she demanded.

Yes, came the answer.  Exactly the same age as you’ll be if you don’t.

So, today’s tip is to stop waiting to start.  We don’t always know how things come out.

Leap, and the net will appear.  ~ John Burroughs

Get in the river.

 

Look at what we can do!

 Baffling, but cool!

I don’t understand how it works, but it’s fascinating.

Panorama of London

Also, a little scary, as you realize that whatever took these pictures can actually see in the windows.  Big Brother is watching.

So, I don’t know whether this is something to celebrate, but I think it’s inevitable.  The privacy issues, as always, are lagging behind the technology.  At some point, we will probably have to deal with them.  Although, I suspect, the ship has sailed.  I don’t think I can recall any single instance of humanity deciding not to use some technology we have invented.  The show-and-tell gene is too dominant in our species, I think.

At least, this has the possibility of benign and beneficial applications.  Imagine real time web cams at Picadilly Circus.  The Acropolis.

We can already watch manatees at Blue Spring State Park, falcon cams in Ohio, and countless tourist locations at EarthCam.  (It appears to be raining in Times Square as I write this.)

Most of these shots seem a little grainy, and some are more active than others.  For instance, there are more people out and about near the Miami News Cafe than there seem to be in Chios, Greece just now.  Personally, I am rather fond of the giraffe cam.  And I look forward to checking out the penguin cam (too dark in California just now).

The possibilities for eyedropping (I know it’s not a word, but “spying” just seems loaded with more evil intent) seem to be endless.

Really, it’s amazing what we can do!

And, I hope, that someday we can celebrate the miracle of careful consideration about whether we should do all the things we can.