I genuinely enjoy reading two books at the same time, often finding an odd synergy, or perhaps, irony in the juxtaposed thoughts and feelings such a combination evokes. I’ll have the two books by my side at my comfortable tan leather Danish reading chair, and switch from one to the other after a chapter or two of either. All else that is needed is a hot cup of tea (reading and vino rosso don’t mix well).
Certainly it was synergy when reading Les Misérables, as necessity required a second book. With only a half understanding the historically references, I saw a need to I read about 200 pages of Will Durant’s The Age of Napoleon to comfortably move on. I’m still only half into Hugo’s classic, with no rush to its completion. A work of such magnitude can’t be rushed. Even so, the brief French history lesson is still fresh in my mind.
If I read a few pages of Les Mis late at night, sometimes my dreams bring me back to that time, always in some oddly abstract adventure, as dreams tend to unfold.
As for irony, what an odd couple I picked for this week’s read – or maybe not that odd at all?
Last night I began a bittersweet read of Patti Smith’s We were only Kids, documenting her life with and love of Robert Mapplethorpe. Patti is my second favorite female artist, a close second, with Laurie Anderson topping her, as she is far more ethereal, which suits my musical needs more than not. I’ll always love these two older women, and would hope to one day comfortably chat with both.
I’d guess that egos would forever prevent a collaboration between Patti and Laurie, yet my dream CD and subsequent world tour would be Patti and Laurie together combining their talents as only they could do – with Lou Reed and Brian Eno supporting the effort. That likely will never happen – dream on.
So early on we learn this about Patti: she loved to read, and she loved art, both from her very beginnings. She saw being an artist her only path. She had a painful and lonely road down that path, but always with hope and insightful experiences to move her closer. The poetry and spirit of Rimbaud carried her through the rough times, coaxing her to make that ever-so-important move to NYC.
I’m not far enough into the book to comment on her thoughts of Robert (the essence of the book), except early on Patti hints of kindred spirits destined to collide. It will be an interesting read when they inevitably do – likely tonight for me before I retire. Yet already I am moved by her words.
Seth Godin is the god of Web 2.0 marketing, and thus all that is cool in the rapidly evolving digital age. I bought one of his first books, Permission Marketing, years ago and never cared for the concept. It was sort of like sheepishly allowing spammers into your in-box. The concept has stuck and I am still annoyed when Amazon strategically reminds me of the next “thing” that I surely would like to order – at 30% off none-the-less.
Seth brilliantly promoting a previous book - Purple Cow
Well, Seth is a really smart guy, and turns out to be not a bad guy at all, in spite of his digital god status. So along with Patti’s book, I picked up Linchpin and began reading it the same night.
Again, I am not far enough into the book to really comment, but so far it is a refreshing and inspirational read. He states, regardless of what we do for a living, we all work in factories. Every enterprise that employs people is a factory – services, hospitals, universities, software developers and, of course, manufacturers.
In spite of this, we must all strive to be Linchpins – become indispensable, in whatever “factory” we work. Yet he seems to use the words “linchpin” and “artist” interchangeably, and makes many a good argument as to why.
His latest book is clearly geared for the Web 2.0 (or maybe 3.0) generation – those that likely work for a living, and more likely dream of being part of a highly successful start-up. Yet the message is that, like Tom Peters a decade ago, we are all entrepreneurs, or simply artists, and that we had better perform, or else, i.e., best think to move on (by choice or circumstance). Given we are in the worst recession of a lifetime, even those with the most secure “factory” jobs best have a look.
He suggests we throw away our résumés, and let our body of “art” and our ability to demonstrate our value speak for us. Okay – I’ll gladly buy into that!
Key words in both Patti’s and Seth’s books are “factory” and “artist.” The brief time Patti spent working in a real factory drove her to the realization that she could only be an artist. Not even teaching, her early planned career path, would do. An unequivocal and uncompromising artist is all she could be. And so it was, and still is.
Seth’s message is a bit more down to earth – make your work your art. If you can’t . . . well I’ll have to finish the book!
I’m reading both books, unlike many, with the intent of never returning to work for a paycheck again. I rarely found my art in my work. Regardless, I still need to obtain Linchpin status, perhaps for only my customers, the consumers of whatever I create. I need to become an artist.
Patti’s style of writing is quite inspirational. I’ve come to the realization that at this point in my life, I’ll never achieve any fame in this world; never have an entry on Wikipedia (unless I write it myself). Yet these things I’ve never wanted or remotely cared for.
Yet, just in case, I think I’ll start a draft of an autobiography of my own. Here’s the first installment.
Thirty years of building advanced composite aircraft and spacecraft is enough for me. Now, I just want to create art – with carbon fiber, with digital images, and maybe even words. Artist, without fame is fine – just let me make a modest living at it.
Thanks for the inspiration Patti & Seth! In spite of a generational and cultural gap, the two of you should hangout a bit, being New Yorker’s and such. Ha – maybe you do. There is an odd synergy – but perhaps only I can see it.
Oh – a Happy Valentine’s Day to all those I love – such fond times we have had! I miss you MKC and SHL, more than you can imagine.
