Negative-SoundByters! I very much hope that you all had a very festive Christmas. I had a scorcher myself; I celebrated it with seven very glamorous women in a Gordon Ramsey restaurant in Chelsea – okay, one was my wife and another my sister, but still I got some tacit nods of approval from the other gentlemen in the establishment; especially from the guy managing two little Santas who were intent on ensuring that his Christmas was one that he would forget in about a nanosecond. His wife had already forgotten about it as Little Santa One pitched his screams at a level that just about outshone Little Santa Two. I was so wrapped up in Christmas cheer – and Ralph Lauren (big shout out to Mrs H!) – that I barely noticed the little rascals. I certainly have not mastered selective hearing; but no doubt should I be fortunate enough to become a father one day, that will become a key component of my “dad” arsenal!
It was of course a Christmas etched with sadness: George Michael, a UK pop icon died around midnight on Christmas Day. He did not “wake me up before you go-go” when his partner asked, “I want your sex”; instead George passed with a “Careless whisper”, although given that he had the “Faith” getting through the pearly gates would not have been a problem.
To be fair I can’t say I knew an awful lot about George. I have danced (badly; or “mal-co” as Mrs H likes to describe it) and tried to pull chicks (emphasis on the word “tried” and obvs pre Mrs H before I get an arched eyebrow!) to his songs over the years and I do remember him getting into trouble with the plod over the pond for a “lewd act” in a public restroom. (Obviously he didn’t just get his knob out like usually what happens in a men’s restroom; there must have been more to it than that although having done my research online now it appears that plod tricked him into getting his knob out in front of said plod and apparently that sort of behaviour is not viewed upon kindly in public toilets in the US OF A. George got a fine and 80 hours of community service for that show of his manhood; can you imagine if had done that with The Donald in charge – castration most likely!!).
But it’s not important what I think or know about him really. It’s the fact that the world has lost an artist. His death sits alongside David Bowie – and now just yesterday Carrie Fisher (she who immortalised the two-giant-cinnamon-bun hairdo while fighting off the Dark Side) - and it is therefore most certainly a year to forget in this regard.
I have just recently finished a book by Seth Godin called the Icarus Deception. In it he exhorts the reader to produce “art” no matter what the form but just as long as it connects you with others. It is what makes us human. And if we can harness it such that it is possible to live by it, then that will make for a more fulfilling existence. It is a risky path, but then if it were easy then everybody would be doing it.
Mrs H is an artist; her cooking connects with me every time she experiments with different flavours to produce culinary delights that I am privileged enough to enjoy. And when she cooks for others she has the same impact. I think her next test should be a “Come Dine With Me” to take her national! (That would certainly be a way to christen the new kitchen-and-dining extension if it ever finishes!) I know she sometimes wishes I was an artist in the same regard; but I have other talents although mostly not kitchen based ☺.
I think there is an “artist” in all of us, but the very nature of the way we lead our lives serves to drown him or her out. We don’t seem to have enough time. Once you have gone to the swamp, slaved, fought your way home (or maybe you don’t get home if you are a victim of Southern Fail), put the kids to bed (or tried to) and had dinner with your better half (or retrieved it from the microwave), what’s left? A few hours shut-eye and back into the fray…..
That’s why I started blogging again – and in a more disciplined way – so that I feel like I am using my creative energy to create a connection with those that read Negative-Soundbyte. I can’t earn a living off NSB but if it stimulates me enough then when I head out into the swamp at some point, hopefully some of that buzz will rub off on the work I do or the people I interact with. And if it means that I have to get up early to write it up before work then that’s what must be done so that my art flourishes. Mrs H also bought me a set of watercolours for Christmas so watch this space! Streatham’s very own Matisse-in-the-making!
So what is your art? Show us. (a very Seth Godin ending; he would be proud – shit I hope he doesn’t end his book in this way…better check….!)
Nope all good; he ends as follows:
We built this world for you. Not so you would watch more online videos, keep up your feeds, and LOL with your high school friends. We built it so you could do what you are capable of. Without apology and without excuse.
Go.
Seth Godin, The Icarus Deception
OUT.
Pic of the Week:
It really should have been a Christmas snap but I guess you guys are tired of those now! I took this in the Cape at a hotel Mrs H and I stayed it. The South African summer sun is very harsh but for those talented enough to make good pics with shadow and light it is a goldmine. My artistic attempt isn't too bad.
